I don't ask. I don't think he has an answer. I just wrap my arms around him as he kisses me. Naz pulls me down onto the bed, shifting around so I'm lying beside him. It's sweet, his hands gentle as they remove my clothes, exploring my bare flesh with his fingertips. A subtle sadness seems to coat every movement. The sudden urge to make him feel good overwhelms me.
I want that laughter back.
I want to make him happy.
I want him to be happy with me.
"Tell me how you like it," I whisper, trying to keep my nerves from showing in my voice. "You can be rough. I'll fight back."
He cracks a smile at that as he rids himself of the rest of his clothes, shifting our bodies again so he's on top of me.
"Next time," he says. "Tonight isn't for playing.
"What's it for?"
"Loving."
He pushes inside of me slowly, his lips meeting mine again as his body weight presses upon me. It's slow and sweet. It's all pleasure and not a stitch of pain.
He's making love to me.
My legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts, filling me deeply before pulling back out, over and over. He holds me to him, sweaty skin gliding together as he gives me all of him, gritting his teeth and groaning against my neck as he comes inside of me.
We lay there afterward, me in his arms, my head on his chest. He holds me against him like I'm delicate, one hand splayed out on my back, the other resting on my head as he strokes my hair. I haven't said a word. I'm not sure there are any words to say. I'm afraid talking about it will cheapen it, rationalize something that should just be felt instead.
Less thinking, more feeling.
I'm starting to get it now.
He's just as quiet. If not for the way he's touching me, I'd think he was asleep. I lay there, starting to doze off, when his soft voice carries through the silence. "It was a 12-gage shotgun. They spent hours pulling all the buckshot from my chest, but it didn't matter, because my heart was shattered."
"Literally?" I ask quietly. I can't fathom it. A shotgun blast to the chest. Who would do such a thing to him?
He sighs, holding me tighter, his voice barely a whisper. "Might as well have been."
Melody's home.
I see her—or rather, hear her—as soon as I open my eyes. Snores rattle her chest, drawn out and obnoxious, so loud I'm startled awake for the second time.
The arm around me is heavy, the body pressed tightly against mine warm. I don't know why I'm so surprised he's still here. I almost expected last night to be a figment of my imagination. His hand gently strokes the skin on my lower stomach, around my navel, dipping slightly lower toward my sensitive bits when I stir. "Good morning."
"Morning," I whisper, my voice thick with sleep. "How long have you been awake?"
"All night," he says.
I think he's joking, but when I shift around, so I can turn my head and see his face, the first thing I notice is the exhaustion. He looks like I did at a few points the past two weeks. I reach back, wanting to smooth away the bags under his eyes. "Couldn't sleep?"
"I often can't," he says. "And if you're wondering, Darth Vader over there staggered in about an hour ago and went straight to sleep."
Shame stirs up inside of me. "Oh God, we're naked."
"She didn't notice," he says. "She didn't even look over here."
"She could've."
"So?" He removes his hand from my stomach to brush my tousled hair aside. I feel his lips against my neck, soft and warm, tingles flowing down my spine at the sensation. "You can't tell me the thought doesn't turn you on."
"What thought?"
"The thought of being seen," he says. "The thrill of maybe being caught. Of someone watching you as you get pleasured, wishing they were you, or that they were the one fucking you, drowning in jealousy because they know they'll never be that lucky. Never. They'll never have you, Karissa… never be you. Because you're mine—mine and mine alone."
His arm snakes around me again, pulling me back tighter against him. I shiver when I feel his erection pressing against me from behind, his hand traveling to the spot between my thighs. My eyes drift closed as he strokes my clit, his lips still on my neck, sucking and nipping his way to my shoulder. Heat engulfs me, my body flushing as I grind against his cock. He groans, stroking faster, rubbing harder, as soft whimpers escape my throat.
It's wrong.
It's wrong.
Oh God, it's so wrong.
So why the hell does it feel so right?
Melody's snores are barely loud enough to conceal my moans. I should stop him, should pull away as my hands grip his arm, but I can't. I won't. I don't want him to ever stop touching me.
I can feel the tension building, the sensation sharpening, and rushing toward where he's rubbing. My breath hitches in anticipation, and I'm close… so close… so fucking close. My toes curl, my entire body wound like a tight coil ready to spring loose, when a faint set of beeps rings through the room. All at once Naz stops when he's doing.
My eyes snap open, the sensation fading as he pulls away and sits up. "No, no, no," I chant, rubbing my thighs together, desperate for friction. I flip over onto my back, my gaze seeking him out. "Please."
It's torture, the ache spreading through me. Naz glances at me as he brings his phone to his ear, answering the call with a quiet, "Hello."
I start to pout when he tucks his phone in the crook of his neck, listening to whoever's on the line. He presses a single finger to his lips, shushing me, as his other hand slips beneath the blanket only partially covering me. My breasts are exposed, but I don't care. I can't care. Not when he touches me again, his free hand rubbing circles around my achy clit. My eyes roll in the back of my head, and it doesn't take long for my body to tense again, the feeling returning.
"Yeah, I'm handling it," he says, his voice quiet, and stone cold serious, the gritty, callous tone pushing me further toward the edge. I can feel it creeping up on me and fist the sheets, toes curling again. "I'll be there this weekend."
Oh God.
Oh God.
Oh my fucking God.
My lips part, my breath hitching, a silent scream burning my chest as I struggle to keep from making any noise. Pleasure sweeps through me, my body convulsing.
"I don't think I'll be alone," he says. "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to, uh… come."
He tries to hide the amusement in his voice but he laughs lightly. I peek over at him as the tension recedes, my body relaxing against the bed. He stares down at me, the look in his eyes nearly making me come again.