Page 22

Chapter Twenty-One

If I was playing Never Have I Ever , I would be as drunk as a skunk.

Never have I ever had an orgasm from receiving oral sex. Drink.

Never have I ever found giving oral sex to be so arousing. Drink.

Never have I ever come close to having a second orgasm in the same night – even with battery operated help. Drink.

Only now, here I was, already with the familiar pang in the base of my stomach as he entered me for the first time.

I’d almost choked when he took off his pants and stood before me. If someone asked me to create my ideal man, I could not have even dreamed of the perfection that was Sebastian.

The man was defined and while I had caught glimpses of him without a shirt on before, seeing him stripped naked, the light outside casing the depth of the ink on his arms and his chiselled abdomen that led to an impressively rigid part of him, I was mesmerised.

Could you describe a dick as delicious? Because he was a snack I wanted to eat every day for the rest of my life.

I lifted my eyes back to his, engulfed with physical and emotional fulfilment. It was a visceral feeling as my body stretched to accommodate him, engulfed in the sensory whirl of all that he was. He was everywhere, his weight enhancing my arousal and I gasped as he filled me entirely.

Where have you been all of my life? The unembellished veracity of his question taking my breath away.

“Oh my god,” I gulped. He didn’t move, instead pushing the hair from my face and cataloguing my reaction when I said no more. Leaning down, his lips softly met mine and I freed my hands from his grip, wrapping them around his neck and deepening the kiss.

He ground his hips in slow circles, “You feel so fucking good.” His eyes danced and I knew he could sense my exasperation at both the pleasure and frustration as need increased in my stomach.

Pulling back, I begged, “Please. I need you to move.”

He murmured in my ear, “I like it when you beg,” rewarding me with the friction I craved. Burying his face into my neck, I wound my legs around him, enjoying his words as I clenched my thighs together.

Taking my arms from around his neck, he held them above my head again as his thrusts became harder and faster. Removing one hand from my wrists, he gripped my backside, our bodies as one.

“Fuck, you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed,” he spoke, and I knew at that moment, this was destined to happen. We were destined to meet. Destined for each other. Whatever collision course the world had created was always going to find him and I entwined. He was bringing me back to the life I thought was long gone. The salvation and intensity he brought with him, seeping into my very being and was something I could not have seen coming.

“Seb,” I panted, “Show me I was made for you.” I begged. Full on every level, I was consumed. When he increased the pace of his thrusts, my eyes rolled back in my head. I was giddy with pleasure, all coherent thoughts gone. As I tumbled closer towards my second orgasm of the night, I was certain that the delicious man above me, who appeared to be all elements of grey, was in fact the bright light I had been looking for.

“Tell me what you want, babe,” his movements deepening as he edged me closer to my release.

“You, Sebastian. I want you.” And with that, the orgasm ripped through me as he continued his onslaught, sending me to the brink of oblivion as he shouted my name, simultaneously losing himself inside me. I was a body on the edge of a cliff, and he held the rope that tied me to safety. If he asked me in that moment to jump and free fall to my death, I’m not sure I could have said no because he held all the control. And with him, I felt safe in doing so.

He grabbed my face, holding my gaze as he slowed his movements, and our breaths melded into a mixture of satiated bliss. That moment where two people are stripped entirely bare, in their most primitive state, where no one else matters but each other. And I knew nothing this good could be fabricated.

Afterwards, I let myself be held as he lay behind me, secure in his warm embrace as he kissed the side of my neck.

“Your sunflower tattoo is gorgeous, by the way,” his hand gripped my hip, squeezing tenderly.

“Mmmm,” I mumbled, already hazy with sleep. “My parents used to call me their sunflower,” I explained, not wanting to think or talk about them right now, but feeling pleased he'd liked the symbol itself.

“I love the purple of the petals. Reminds me of the dress you were wearing the first time you came to Nexus.” The way he remembered what I wore that night, yet another example of why I was here right now. His thoughtfulness was unmatched.

Strangely, I wanted to thank him not only for the compliment but for his gentleness. To tell him I never knew it could be this good, but the exhaustion was overwhelming and before I could muster the energy, I was asleep.

Never have I ever felt this content. Drink.

Walking into Suzie’s office for the first time in four weeks, there was a definite spring in my step. Turns out a few orgasms at the hands, mouth and body of someone as competent as Seb, did wonders for the soul.

“, it’s lovely to see you.” As always, her smile was gentle, and she spoke in a calming tone. “How have you been since we last spoke?”

“I’ve been good,” I said, adjusting in the lounge until I was comfortable. “I didn’t last the full four weeks, but almost,” I laughed in a self-deprecating manner, referring to the emergency appointment I'd scheduled after seeing Lucas at Nexus.

“How did you get here today?” My face heated at her question, and I contemplated lying, but I also knew I wanted to discuss my feelings around Sebastian and telling her about last night was part of that.

“Sebastian drove me here. I – urgh – I spent the night at his house again.” Without the barrier of the screen, discussing this with her evoked a new vulnerability. Would she judge me?

Awkwardly avoiding her assessing gaze, I glanced behind her at the picture of the two smiling faces I often looked at when I needed time to compose myself.

She didn’t speak, a technique I was accustomed to in our sessions. There was something about the intentional silence which forced me to open up more than I planned. “We went on a date last night and when I came home, Arna wasn’t – well I was going to just go to bed, but I decided to go back instead.” I shrugged as if there was no rhyme or reason to the decision. And in some ways, there hadn’t been. I’d wanted something and so I reached out and grabbed it. With both hands. And mouth.

My cheeks warmed at my own intrusive thoughts, and I pressed my lips together, glad Suzie was looking at her notepad.

She took notes occasionally, but at this point in our time together, she mostly listened and asked questions where she felt I needed to self-reflect further. I guess now was one of those times as her pen tapped the paper in her lap.

“Why did you go back?”

I assumed she wanted me to delve through the mess that had been my emotional journey over the last few years as having a new relationship was clearly a step in the right direction. And I wanted to tell her how much better I felt when I was with him. How he made me believe I could move on from my past scars. How in a short amount of time he made me realise control didn’t always need to be a negative thing. But all I could think about was the feel of his mouth on mine, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips and the utter ecstasy when he was inside me.

I went back for him .

Not because I was sick of being lonely or needed a distraction, but because I wanted to be with him. The intention had not been to throw myself at him like a sex-deprived fiend as soon as he opened the door, but when he was standing there with his wet hair and bare chest, something snapped, and I lost all remnants of self-control.

“I like him, I guess,” I shrugged again, the dysphemism intentional. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself just how much, let alone another person.

“I know we have only recently met and I’m still navigating the idea of being with someone else, but I think I’m willing to try. With him. I have zero idea if he is even interested in anything serious, so I say all of this with no consideration for what he wants.” I laughed again but the humour wasn’t there. What if this was just a let’s blow off some steam kind of arrangement for him and here I was unpacking the idea of a full blown relationship with my therapist. The uncertainty and the unknown were terrifying especially when I had a history of misreading people. I rubbed my chest, the thought alone giving me a nervous indigestion.

Looking at the plant next to her desk, I admired the intricate greens of the leaves as I gave her a filtered version of our dinner and how I felt coming home to an empty apartment, leading to my decision to return to his place. I intentionally skipped the more intimate details and detoured to him making me breakfast and driving me to this appointment. She smiled. A bigger smile than I’d seen from her and placed the pen she was holding in her lap.

“I’m proud of you. He sounds like he is treating you well,” I sagged at her admission, overwhelmed at her praise. She was a great investment, and I was very aware her assistance and support were part of the reason I felt ready to move forward. Other than feeling extremely tired due to the small amount of sleep I had last night, unpacking my emotions always left me drained.

“Thank you. It appears I can finally say I’m feeling like my old self again,” I smiled, leaning down to grab my water bottle.

Suzie smiled knowingly.

“I agree. Keep putting yourself first, . It suits you.”

Walking out of the building I turned on a playlist and headed down the city street. It was early afternoon, and I felt refreshed, both mentally and physically. Spotting a cafe across the street, I decided a coffee and a quick walk would be the perfect accompaniment to what had been an amazing day thus far. Frankly, a double orgasm at the hands of the deliciously thorough Sebastian was how I wanted to start everyday moving forward. Anything else would be a disappointment really.

The streets were busy and the restaurants I passed were filled with people dressed in their business attire, dining customers and discussing contracts. A large group of women sitting at a table outside the cafe, each with a highchair or pram caught my eye. All of them doing their best to entertain or feed a child while simultaneously having their own drink or conversation. It looked exasperating and I smiled sympathetically at what I'm sure was a beautifully exhausting outing.

Entering, I glanced up at the menu board and awaited the cashier before placing my order. The cafe was equally as busy inside and I watched the staff behind the counter milling around while the barista made my coffee. Loud music accompanied the sounds of conversations and even with my earphones in it was noisy. Pausing my playlist to ensure I didn’t miss my name; I froze when the waitress called the next order for collection.

“Lucas?” Pins and needles pricked across my cheeks as a man walked over and grabbed his coffee. A long black with two sugars if my memory served me correctly. He was much thinner than I remembered, his jeans faded and hanging loosely on his frame. He wore a hat pulled down low across his face, but it didn’t matter. I would have known it was him even if he wore a mask. I knew the way he walked; I knew the sound of his footsteps along both carpet and tiles. I knew what his voice sounded like when he was screaming or whispering with fury, so even if his name wasn’t just called, I would have known it was him.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I kept my eyes on the menu board, willing myself not to scream, run or spiral into a panic attack. Anything that would draw unwanted attention to myself.

Coffee and cake of the day – $9

Ham and cheese croissant – $6

I read the same words over and over despite my brain refusing to process anything other than the way he collected his cup, lifted the lid and took a sip. I knew he would be making sure they put his sugar in and if they forgot, good luck to them.

Satisfied, he nodded and turned, and for the briefest second I thought he was going to walk right back out without noticing me. But my luck for the day had run out and in my peripheral vision, I saw the second his body went rigid, the instant he recognised me and made the decision to approach.

“?” His voice sent a wave of nausea through me and suddenly I was back in the kitchen while he screamed at me, his hand tight around my wrist with a malicious gleam in his eye. Not even remotely similar to the way Sebastian tenderly confined me last night with adoration and lust.

“Coffee for ?” The waitress calling my order yanked me back to the present and I shook my head briefly, knowing I needed to hold my shit together and get the hell out of here. I was not the woman in the kitchen anymore and I never would be again.

“Excuse me,” I said, stepping around him as I pointed at my coffee.

Thanking the waitress, I turned around and he stepped towards me, his head hung low, his voice quiet.

“Marls, please, can we talk?”

“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” I couldn’t do this, not now. Today was a good day. A great day and I wasn’t going to let him ruin it for me.

How did he even know I was here? Was he following me?

“, please,” he reached for my hand, and I flinched, taking a small step back.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” I hissed through gritted teeth, the acidity in my tone shocking the both of us. If I didn’t know him so well, I wouldn’t have recognised the anger which briefly flashed in his eyes or the way he was actively trying to keep his voice calm. This was a side of me he hadn’t seen before, and I knew instantly he didn’t like it. Even if it was a ruse – he didn’t know that. That's right, the dynamics have shifted, Lucas . The cafe was busy enough that if I screamed there were people who could help, and it was with that thought that I pushed my shoulders back.

“You’ve changed,” he voiced, narrowing his eyes while feigning a softness to his tone which was so forced that I wouldn’t be surprised if it gave him a stomach-ache.

I didn’t warrant his words with a response. What was I supposed to say to that anyway? Thank you? Because it damn sure felt like a compliment given the weak and timid person I’d been when I was with him.

“When are you coming home? You just left, Marls. You left me.” His voice was pleading but I knew his anger was simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over.

It was always the same. Always my fault. He was the victim despite the bruises and broken bones he inflicted upon me.

Sighing, I gestured with my hand to two spare seats near the window, so we weren’t lingering in the middle of the cafe. If I gave him a couple of minutes, maybe I could walk away without a scene and a little closure might be good for the both of us.

Unlocking my phone, I ordered an Uber to arrive in five minutes and flashed him the screen briefly, mindful not to broadcast my destination.

“You have three minutes before I leave. I have an appointment,” I lied, maintaining eye contact despite the flurry of nerves coursing through my stomach.

“I miss you, . I-I’m sorry. Please come home. I’m not the same person I was,” he whispered, averting his gaze. He never had been good at apologising and even now I knew he wasn’t sorry. He just never thought I would leave, never believed I would have the courage.

Glancing at my phone, I saw that my ride was now two minutes away. Taking a sip of my coffee, I closed my eyes for the briefest moment before mustering every ounce of courage in my repertoire.

His eyes were bloodshot, and strands of unwashed hair poked out from under his hat. He was dishevelled and it made me sad. Was I so blinded by my loyalty to him that I never realised how much of a mess he had become? Standing here now I was disgusted. Disgusted at him for thinking it was appropriate to treat me so poorly and at myself for allowing it to continue for so long.

But I was a psychology graduate and all jokes aside, had come too far to go backwards.

“You’re right,” I answered, holding my hand up when I saw the flicker of pride in his face, so used to me agreeing. “I have changed,” I added, lifting my chin a little higher, reflective of the confidence I now had. “I’m going home now. But that is no longer a place I share with you. Because I deserve better. I deserve better than being told how disgusting I am. How useless I am. How ugly I am. I deserve better than being told no one will ever love me,” I spat, the words purging from me.

“And while you were right that I have changed, you were wrong about the rest of those things because I’m not disgusting, useless or ugly. And people do love me. Plenty of people and their love is healthy and safe ,” I emphasised, allowing the tears to fall because they came from a place of strength, and I wanted him to see them as I stood. Walking away from him towards my now waiting Uber, I heard his footsteps and braced for what I knew was coming. He tugged my sleeve, and I turned back ripping my arm away, repulsed by the desperation in his eyes.

Two older men in suits standing on the path stopped their conversation to look at us, and that was all I needed. Reaching for the door, I turned back to him with a newfound resolve.

“We are done, Lucas, and you need to accept that.” I didn’t look back as the car drove away, certain he would still be standing there, the anger oozing from him like invisible embers desperate to ignite.

Instead, I lent my head back against the seat, taking deep calming breaths and allowing the tears to fall freely. He didn’t hurt me. I was safe and I wasn’t going back.

I found the courage to tell him it was over. The strength I lacked for so long. And for a second time I left him and it was that epiphany which allowed a small smile to crease my face as the traitorous tears continued to stream down my cheeks for the me I was leaving behind. The me I was finally able to say goodbye to along with all the pain she suffered. I saved myself and again, I chose me.