Page 29

I start to fall, the walls of my pussy squeezing around his fingers, shuttering and gripping the length of them as wave after wave washes over me. He covers my mouth with his, tongue thrusting in tandem with his fingers inside me, fucking and stroking me through my orgasm.
He brings me down slowly, his dark, heavy-lidded gaze searching my face as he eases his fingers from me. Then he puts them in his mouth and sucks them clean. Fixes my panties. Straightens my skirt. Looking at me with a mixture of tenderness and regret that feels like a knife to the chest.
“You remember me,” he says softly, and the reminder breaks my heart, all over again.
“I remember waking up alone,” I tell him, holding his gaze. “I remember wondering what I did to make you leave without saying goodbye.” His brow crumples at my words, and I have to look away because he doesn’t get to make me feel sorry. He doesn’t get to be hurt.
He left me.
He didn’t want me.
“Claire, I—”
“I remember Simon telling me you went away and that he was going away too.” Thinking about Simon, my heart trembles in my chest, a quick fluttering that forces me to turn away from him completely. Aiming my gaze out the window, I pretend to dismiss him the way he dismissed me five years ago.