Page 127 of Let the Game Begin (Kiss Me Like You Love Me #1)
Neil
Having sex, making love, fucking; for me, all of those acts belonged to one broad category: pleasure.
My pleasure, though, wasn’t like other people’s. I didn’t have sex for the orgasm, which often didn’t even happen for me.
No, for me sex was a way to get a sick thrill, imagining that I had beneath me the person who had so gravely wounded my psyche and my soul: Kimberly.
People who experienced that kind of abuse in their childhood often developed strange ways of relating to other people in adulthood.
They could become manipulative, antagonistic, perverse and easily agitated.
Like me, basically.
My personality had been seriously warped and I knew that the earlier the abuse occurred the greater the long-term damage would be.
Eventually, it resulted in a psychopathological change to my innate tendencies.
Dr. Lively had once explained the concept to me in detail during a session.
And, he added, the suffering and humiliation that I continued to feel inside would manifest themselves in the sexual and platonic relationships that I had with women, spilling over irreparably onto them.
In fact, all I was really doing was forcing myself to reenact my abuse but this time I played the role of the perpetrator.
This was a condition that my doctor referred to as “compulsive ego-dystonic behavior”
All at once, my brain, which had been wandering in its own chaos, pulled me back to the present.
I was in bed and I was not alone.
“Neil.” Jennifer continued to rock back and forth on me, groping my sweaty pecs. She bit her lip as she undulated, which only intensified my goddamned nausea.
I used my fingers to direct her, tightening them on her hips as I stared at the steel ring I wore on the middle finger of my right hand.
Anything to avoid looking at the place where her body sucked me in greedily and released.
Jennifer didn’t want anyone but me and I didn’t want anyone but… Babygirl.
To keep from thinking about Selene, however, I mused on how much I hated the position in which I was currently fucking Jennifer.
As usual, I couldn’t stand being underneath a woman for more than five minutes so, when that fifth minute ticked over in my brain, I flipped our positions until I could straddle her.
My erection, still wet from her fluids, rested on her abdomen.
I pulled off the used condom and her eyes followed the motion ravenously.
She enjoyed my size, like women always did and I knew it. Jennifer, though, didn’t even try hide her longing to savor it like a delicious lollipop.
She wanted me…of course she wanted me…
She looked up at me pantingly, her cheeks rosy and eyes filled with an expectation that I was about to satisfy.
I got up on my knees and aimed my swollen tip right into her beautiful mouth.
I put my hands on the headboard and set the same rhythm once again.
In-out, in-out, but this time I watched as I possessed her sinful lips.
I watched and I enjoyed what I saw but, even more, I enjoyed the way she had to work to pleasure me.
It was hardly easy, taking all of me but Jennifer knew how far to go, she knew how to meet my needs.
Suddenly, she sputtered and I paused for a few moments in the heat of her mouth. I waited for her nod before I started moving again. Her hands squeezed my ass as it contracted with each thrust. I could feel her nails sinking into my flesh as I continued to take what I wanted from her.
When Jen started to gasp and the bobbing of her head slowed down, I realized that Xavier had rejoined us on the bed.
This time, he’d stuck his head between her thighs.
This whole scene, obscene yet quotidian, had started about an hour earlier the same way it always did, with him and me sharing a woman.
“You really missed my tongue, didn’t you, babydoll?” Xavier’s rough, aroused voice significantly slowed my rush towards an orgasm that was feeling increasingly far away. My brain didn’t want to cooperate at all that day. I felt tense and so nervous that I couldn’t let go in the way I wanted.
“Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath, pulling out of Jennifer’s mouth so I could move away and get up off the bed. I glanced back at the two of them, continuing to seek their own pleasure and I took note of how Xavier focused on pushing her over the edge with his mouth.
My friend was certainly more generous than I was. Lately, I’d only been granting that kind of privilege to the girl with the ocean eyes who had just gone away: Selene.
Jennifer gave me a pleading look, begging me to come back to where I was before, buried between her lips. But I shook my head and. went to the bathroom instead, shutting the door behind me. I could still hear their moans from behind me as they continued to go at it in earnest.
I rested my hands on the edge of the sink and stared at my reflection: my hair was a riot, my lips were red, the tendons in my neck were too tense and my muscles were still rigid.
I really did have the look of an unsatisfied man.
Sexual desire circulated through my body like a poisonous drug.
I was still stubbornly erect, my body refusing to give me that moment of abandon, those five seconds of total explosion, the chills that went from the base of my spine straight up to my brain.
The same ones I’d felt with only one woman.
With my Babygirl.
I could still remember the way I’d climaxed in that soft, oh-so tight little body; the way she pulled me inside herself and allowed me through the gates of a cursed paradise.
I remembered the delicate way her fingers dug into my back, so afraid of hurting me.
I remembered the rough kisses she couldn’t completely match because no one had ever kissed her while they fucked her before.
I remembered the way she looked at me as I showed her just how much sex with her pleased me.
I couldn’t hide it because every orgasm we experienced together was so all-encompassing that it stole my breath.
But even when I didn’t pant, even when I tried not to lose control, she stole a little piece of me.
She took it in tiny doses, creeping in on her tiptoes just like a fairy and leaving a little bit of pixie dust sprinkled on my soul each time.
I had thought about calling her and asking her if she’d gotten to Detroit, if she was doing okay and if she’d found the little present I’d left in her coat pocket.
I had slipped a glass cube with a pearl inside it into her pocket, using the lame excuse of a forehead kiss to get close enough to her that I could do it undetected.
She’d just left that morning and it was only ten in the evening at that point yet it felt like an infinite amount of time had passed since I’d last immersed myself in her ocean.
I wanted to wrap my arms around her and kiss her and drag her into my bedroom with me but I told myself not to fuck it up and to let her go because it was the right thing to do.
The right thing.
I kept repeating it to myself like a crazy person just to keep myself from pulling out my phone and sending a text saying: Come back to me right now, Tinkerbell.
Because, even if she did, nothing would have changed.
I wouldn’t have changed. I would still have been the same disturbed Boy who used his blondes, who took countless showers every day, who refused to return to therapy, who couldn’t control his impulses, who talked to himself, who was incapable of love.
A person like me would never, ever have been able to accept love because even the most innocent “I love you,” would have brought out the beast within.
It was right to let her go, to let her live her own life, maybe with some normal man who didn’t have DID, IED or OCD the way I did.
A man who treated her with kindness and touched her gently and didn’t sleep with anyone except his woman.
A serious, respectful man with whom she could build a family, have children and get her happy ending.
Selene deserved all of that but it was something I could never have given her.
If I hadn’t had the problems I did, I would have tried, I really would have tried to hold on to her.
But, unfortunately, that wasn’t my reality and I, being the way that I was, would never have considered trying to initiate a stable relationship with a woman.
Not so long as Kimberly was still in my head.