by N. K. Love
We had a quick workout in the gym when she got home to energise ourselves for the night ahead. We hardly spoke during dinner, watching her eat was tempting enough, without adding anything else into the equation. We just went over the basics of what we’re going to try out.
Now here we stand, naked, facing each other with our toes sinking into the black rug in my bedroom. Beth’s dimmed the lights and taken the batteries out of my ticking wall clock so that we’re in complete and utter silence, shutting the rest of the world out.
After a few subtle smirks we manage to shake them away, composing ourselves. I have to remind myself to take this shit completely seriously because it’s important to Beth.
First we start by closing the gap so we’re toe to toe and tune ourselves into each other. She places her hand over my heart and I overlap it. We stare into each other’s eyes whilst we synchronize our breathing. After a few minutes we move into breath exchange. When she exhales, I inhale.
I’m amazed at how easily I’ve slipped into this. It feels natural and almost therapeutic. It reminds me of some of the massage courses I’ve taken, relaxing into the moment and putting trust in your body.
Beth was adamant about us abstaining from thinking about the conclusion. That’s the part I’m struggling with. Beth’s in front of me, beautifully butt naked, and I’m supposed to concentrate on ‘us’ without imagining her riding the fuck out of cock with sweat trickling between her breasts. Yeah, I need to work on that part.
My heart rate feels like its increasing rather than calming and joining forces with Beth’s. My cock is on its way to Boner City and her peripheral vision must be just as aware of that fact as I am.
Eventually, with the help of the twinkle in Beth’s eye and her controlled steady breathing, I regain composure. After a few more moments, she moves closer and we wrap our arms around one another. Pressing ourselves together tightly, we start to move our hands over each other’s bodies.
I’m deliberately cautious at first, concerned that if I peak too soon I won’t be about to handle prolonging things further. We’ve never had to hold back before. In fact, all we’ve ever done is encourage each other to let go and give in to the moment.
My cock isn’t trying as hard as I am, promptly becoming rock hard and nudging into her stomach like an irritating pet, trying to get her undivided attention.
Feeling my fingers stroke across her smooth skin has me appreciating every, single, inch of her magnificent body.
We pull away enough to weave our hands between us. I know her favourite spots and the ways to take her breath away. I massage her shoulders and neck, letting her subtle moans fill my head with visions of my angel coming undone beneath me. Yeah, I really do need to work on this part.
Moving down her arms, she mirrors me and then we take hold of each other’s faces. I pull her back into me until we’re nose to nose with our eyes locked in.
I realise how arousing it is just to hear her breathing.
Who fucking knew? I don’t even know if that’s normal—getting turned on by listening to somebody else breathe. What the fuck?
As her breaths become unsteady, evidencing her growing need, I nudge her to open her mouth wider. She flutters her warm minty breath into my mouth. My cock rubs harder up against her and she pushes her hips forward. Our breathing becomes more erratic.
I bite onto her lip softly to stem any further agitation but Beth’s knees wobble. I take her weight and bend us both slowly to the floor. We kneel at first but then she negotiates me to a sitting position with my back against the bed and my legs outstretched. She immediately straddles me, planting my cock beneath her and circling her thick thighs around my waist.
Finally we kiss and it’s everlasting. I haven’t kissed her for over thirteen goddam hours but it may as well be days. Her lips are soft and welcoming. They’ve also missed being kissed, longing for their soul mate.
We take it deliberately gentle and sensual. She sucks my tongue as though she’s slowly fucking it and my cock twitches with approval, desperate to be wrapped up inside her far-too-patient wet pussy.
I grasp her hips and she begins to roll them. Her subtle movements grow stronger and I start to pull my hips back so that gradually, inch by inch, the end of my cock gets closer and closer.
After a few long moments I slide fluently inside her. She’s so fucking wet it challenges me to maintain our measured strokes. We don’t need to speak, our eyes are saying it all and she’s finding this increasingly more difficult stroke after stroke.
Her climax begins but she keeps her breathing slow. Showing the upmost discipline, she brings us to a stop just before she comes and I stay completely still, not wanting to ruin this for her.
Shortly after, it’s my turn to be disciplined but she’s there with me, helping me to behave and bring myself back down before it’s too late. This happens three times more, each time equally as satisfying. The more the sensations peak and trough, the more intense they become. It starts to feel like holding onto an umbrella in a storm or eating the tastiest fucking doughnut without licking your lips.
Beth nods to signal that she’s ready, whilst I thank fucking God. I let her hips ride me with long, paced thrusts that swallow me whole before retreating each time. It’s exquisite and ultimately what this was always about, feeling a profound sexual and emotional merging.
This time we allow our climaxes to peak higher than before, just when I think we’ve reached the top, we climb further and create a heightened state of rapturous pleasure.
The passionate fire in her eyes glows brightly into my darkened soul.
“Breathe, Angel, breathe.”
Instead of crying out or cursing or moaning, which is what our bodies are fighting to do, we remain focused on taking in slow deep breaths as our research suggested. Whoever wrote that shit deserves a medal.
The intensity is indescribable. We shatter together into an explosive, long-lasting orgasm that threatens to bring us both to tears. I release myself into her over and over, feeling airborne, floating on her whimpering clouds of sexual satisfaction at its finest.
Euphoria does exist, but only with her. She is my beacon guiding me.
Beth is my power source, when I plug myself into her physically, mentally or spiritually, she absolutely completes my life. That powerful position she has, means that without her I’ll be drained, leaving a huge void in her wake. It’s sickening to think, but that emptiness would probably be filled by reverting to past behaviour’s; fucking up pricks and fucking chicks.
On the flipside, progressing a relationship that may already be doomed means that Beth would be hurt. I will have fucked around with her life, her head and her heart. She doesn’t deserve that and I don’t deserve her—I never have.
Deep down, when I’m honest with myself, I don’t believe she’ll accept the things I’ve done in the name of survival and revenge. Her beautiful mind is too pure to be tainted with my ugly truth. She is too perfect to take on the reign of pain I will bring her way.
Beth is more than I deserve.
I was wrong to believe I could ever break free. I was wrong to hope that this Angel was sent for me.
I fucked up.
Beth
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“I think it’s too late for that, G. That was—that was incredible. Beyond words—”
“—No, I can’t do this anymore.”
He gestures between us and his whole expression has changed.
“What are you talking about?” I climb off him and stand up with post-orgasm shaky legs. “Us? You can’t do ‘us’ anymore?”
My confused and treacherous voice crackles and breaks. He shakes his head and stands up but doesn’t look me in the eye.
“No.” It’s a shameful whisper.
“What—why? What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing. It’s not you—”
“Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence.”
My shakin
ess transforms from sexual shivers to quakes of confusion and anger. I use my arms to cover my nakedness and make a dash for my hanging robe. He walks over to me and it’s as though his loving aura has been vacuumed from him, leaving an empty shell. It doesn’t even feel like I’m in the room with the same person. How can he change so spontaneously, so drastically?
“Jax, you’d better start speaking before I start walking, I swear to God.”
“You deserve so much more than who I am. I can’t make you happy.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Don’t you think I deserve to make that decision for myself?”
“Yes. But I already know I’m going to hurt you.”
“Like you’re hurting me now?”
“It’s nothing compared to how I’ll make you feel if we carry on.”
Jax sits on the edge of the bed and I take refuge by the door, seething. Fight or flight?
“I’m not a good person, Beth—you think I am—but I’m not. I hurt people. I’ll hurt you.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think you are. Do you think your tattoos or your muscles or your bad boy persona scare me? Because they don’t. You hide behind yourself Jaxson—but I see right through it all. I always have. I see you. All of you.”
Jax rubs his head in his hands. His silence only serves to fuel my anger.
“So after everything, you’re going to end it—like this? For Christ’s sake, your dick was still inside me—you’ve just come inside me. What kind of twisted way is that to treat me?” No answer. “You must know how I feel about you. Never mind fucking my brains out, you’ve just fucked my heart out and—you know what, forget it.”
I yank open the door with an unsteady hand and a heavy heart. My blood feels black running through my cold veins. I’ll save my tears for now, Miss Fierce is too livid to let Miss Vulnerable have a front row seat to this nightmare.
I stop in the doorway and dare to look back at him for a split second. The wistful look on his face is crucifying.
“I’m so sorry, Angel.”
“Don’t, don’t call me that.” I swallow the lump in my throat and blink back my tears once more. Why is he doing this? “You’re a pussy Jaxson Carter, or whatever the fuck you wanna call yourself!”
I run down the hallway with no awareness of my feet ever touching the ground. I pack my things like a frantic fugitive hearing sirens approaching from the distance. It’s the complete opposite to how I left Mike. I reacted badly but I’m still in shock. I should’ve stayed calm. Now I’m leaving with a head full of questions and a heart full of ache.
My anger starts to subside as the hurt creeps in. My throat is dry, my stomach is churning, my brain’s replaying the few lame words he bothered to mutter. We’ve just had the most amazing sex I ever thought possible. There I was, thinking our connection was stronger than ever, when in reality it was about to be severed by a guillotine at the hands of a hooded Jax.
I search the room for a paper bag that’ll help me co-ordinate my breathing. Knowing he’s just down the hallway panics me more. I want to click my fingers and disappear away from here, to be anywhere but here.
My vision becomes blurry but I’m not crying, not yet. I’m still riding on the adrenalin but my body feels weak. Everything has been drained away from me. That fierce, strong love that protected me has absolutely shattered and crumbled into a heap of nothingness, leaving in its place a harrowing pain.
Chapter Seventeen
Wednesday 29th April 2015
10:57pm
Jax
Have I done the right thing?
The house feels empty even though it’s full of memories of her, of us. Everywhere I go, she’s there and the fact that she isn’t actually here makes reliving those memories even more agonising. But I do it anyway. I torture myself with her beauty and all of the things we’ve shared together.
Why should I stop myself, why should I make it easy on myself by drowning out reality?
I walk around the house replaying our times together over and over. I leave one room, enter another and start all over again.
Dragging Beth into my life is the most selfish thing I've ever done. Letting her believe that there's a glimmer of hope at the end of this ride… I knew and I pretended to believe her denial. I'm a selfish bastard with a knack for making fucked up decisions and hurting good people.
When she left yesterday I had to force myself to look her in the eye. As painful as it was to see what I’d done to her, I had to embed that into my heart as a constant reminder of why I’ve ended it. It didn’t work though. I still have a head full of voices telling me to call her, to text her, to turn up at her suite.
My initial doubts crept up on Sunday night. She said she wanted to know what it felt like to make love.
I made love to her and it was incredible. Not only did I feel the love pouring out of her body but I saw it. I saw it in her eyes when she bared her soul to me. It was so intense, so surreal, that afterwards I just kept thinking that if I felt it, she must’ve too. Beth said it was role play but I know now irrefutably that she loves me, she actually truly loves me.
Beth loves me, and I love her. I fucking love her and I always have.
I can finally admit it to myself.
So instead of being a man and sitting her down to share my shit, like I’d always intended, I took the pussy’s way out and ended it. I rejected her before she rejected me, because this way the damage for her is reversible. She can walk away from this now before things get complicated.
Tantric sex should come with a warning. I never wanted to get involved in it but I did it for her. Never did I think it’d affect me in that way. Never did I think I’d be capable of feeling that type of mutual incredible connection with somebody. It freaked me the fuck out and I took it as a sign that Beth means too much for me to risk hurting her beyond repair.
I realised that not only does my love for her control my dick but since the other night it’s got a tight grip on my balls too, threatening to castrate me at the first sign of causing her irreparable pain.
Beth suffered an anxiety attack last night. I did that to her. It’d only get worse if we’d stayed together. I did the right thing.
After she’d calmed down enough to talk properly, she told me not to call Willow. Understandably, she didn’t want to stay in the guest room either, but there was no way I could let her leave here alone. I suggested she stayed for a couple of nights, just until the weekend. I promised to stay out of her way but the answer was a definite no. She couldn’t wait to get the hell away from me—who can blame her?
I booked her into a hotel and arranged for Jack to drive her over, the only person I can fully trust to look after her properly.
When they left, he looked at me with pity and she whispered ‘goodbye’ with teary eyes full of sadness and confusion. She didn’t want to say it. It would’ve been easier for her to walk out the door and not look back. But I knew she said that because she made the promise to me that she’d never leave without saying goodbye again.
Have I done the right thing?
Beth
“I can’t do this anymore.” That’s what he said to me. Those vile words stung like throwing gravel in my face or sand in my eyes.
Why? I’ve repeated that word so many times inside my head—even aloud—to no avail. I don’t have the answer.
Jax… I can’t even think his name without my stomach turning over. He cut me off to throw away our relationship. I know in my heart that he thinks he’s doing it for the right reasons but doesn’t he realise that whatever he’s trying to save me from can’t be much worse than this? He’s left me with a heart full of unanswered questions that will eat away at me for eternity.
A fucking anxiety attack! I had to ruin my walking-out-with-my-head-held-high routine by having a stupid panic attack. So for one last time, he came to my rescue and held my hand. I let him. I damn near faked another attack in a bid to keep him near me for longer—I’m weak.
&
nbsp; He stroked my hair, telling me everything’s going to be okay. I know he has secrets but we’ve never lied to each other—until then. He lied to me in that moment, even if he was just trying to calm me down. Everything is not going to be okay because he has left me worst off than the way he found me. I’m empty and more lost than ever before.
When Jack and I left, the weak, fragile girl inside of me, grabbed onto my naive heart and tried to claw her way up my throat to confess my unmistakable love for Jax.
Miss Sensible swiftly blocked the words and managed to whisper ‘goodbye’ instead. It would have been too little too late. Just like writing the words in the sand and waiting for the tide to wash them away again as though they never existed.
