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Declan
Every nightI climb through her bedroom window, telling myself that this is it. This is the night I’m going to fuck her. This is the night I’m going to take what I want because that’s what I do. I take what I want and leave someone else to clean up the mess.
And every morning, I pull away from her and force myself to leave, telling myself that I’m not coming back. That I can’t come back.
Because she deserves better.
Things I don’t know how to give her.
Someone I don’t know how to be.
Somewhere between leaving her in her bed and standing outside her window, I lose my conviction.
One more time.
One more night.
I tell myself that it’s okay.
I’m not hurting her.
I’m not touching her.
I can handle it.
One more night and then I’m done.
One more night and I’ll leave her alone for good.
Somewhere along the way, I’ve developed the habit of lying to myself as much as I do everyone else.
Because I knew this would happen eventually. And even though I know how fucking wrong it is, I wanted it to happen.
Needed it to happen.
From the second I felt her come on me, that very first time, I knew I was going to do it again. I had to.
Never really had a choice.
“I know, baby.” I murmur it in her ear, letting myself stroke the length of my fingers over the damp stretch of cotton between her thighs. Jesus, she’s fucking wet. So wet it’s seeping through her panties. The sweet smell of her arousal wraps around my cock and it gives a hard jerk. “Shhh...” It’s everything I can do to keep myself from pushing her panties to the side so I can fuck her, hard and fast, with my fingers. Yanking this goddamned pillow loose and getting her under me. Jerking her panties down so I can pound her with my cock. The thought of it has me flexing my hips in response, my dick pumping against the barrier between us, shadow fucking her from behind, over and over until I can feel my balls constrict. The small of my back go tight. The head of my cock start tingle.
Jesus Christ, what am I doing?
I force myself to stop.
This isn’t about you, asshole.
For once in your goddamned life, just give.
“I’m going to take care of you.” I don’t know where it comes from. I’ve never said it before. Never felt this overwhelming urge to make someone come.
Not true.
You felt it that day. The day she fucked your cock through your jeans. The day you sucked her nipples so hard you could see how pink and swollen they were from your mouth through the wet fabric of her shirt.
The memory has me groaning softly. Has me wanting her on top of me. My hands on her hips guiding her. Tilting her hips against mine so that every time she flexes them in my grip, her clit hits my cock. Again and again, until she’s coming for me. Falling apart around me, so I can hold her against me.
As much as I want it, I don’t trust myself to stop there. I don’t trust myself not to hurt her. Last time there were layers of clothes between us. It was broad daylight. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. What making her come was going to do to me.