by K. Webster
My Torin.
His head peeks out of the opening I came through earlier. He’s still shirtless and his hair is sticking straight up as if he’s been tugging at it. It makes my chest squeeze. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
“Can I see your phone?” I ask.
He blinks but doesn’t acknowledge my question. He climbs out of the opening and stands in front of it. A pair of dark jeans hang from his hips, revealing the band of his black boxers. But what has my attention is his incredibly fit and sculpted torso. Each muscle seems to be hand carved by God. Smooth. Perfect. Hard as stone. His lower stomach muscles taper down in what looks like a “V” shape. As though this same God designed his body as a blinking sign that points straight to where his massive cock is.
My sex throbs again, reminding me that his giant dick was tearing away at my innocence not long ago.
Creak.
He steps forward, soundlessly like a cat, until he looms over me. His chest moves as he takes quick, rapid breaths. He hands me his phone, a questioning look in his brown-eyed stare.
I locate the app I’m searching for, load it, and then hand it back.
His attention turns to the device and then his eyes lighten once he realizes the purpose.
“Why did you lock me away?” I ask.
He taps away on his phone and then the app speaks for him in a feminine voice. “Because I can’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.” His lips twitch at the sound of the woman speaking on his behalf. A few moments later of his tapping at the screen, a male voice resounds. “I’m sorry I kept you in that room. I didn’t know what else to do.”
I stare up at him. His words are sad and pleading, yet his features are bland and almost bored looking. It breaks my heart how he battles with his own body and expressing himself.
“You could have just asked me to stay,” I whisper, my bottom lip wobbling.
“Please stay,” the voice says. He blinks and his brows furl together slightly. “Please, Casey,” the voice on the device chirps.
“I like it when you call me Casey-Casey,” I admit, tearfully.
“Casey-Casey,” he blurts out, robotically, but in his own voice. Then, the device speaks for him after he types in something. “Stay with me. Right here. I’ve missed you.”
Meow.
One of his cats flaps her tail as if she agrees.
“I was starving,” I mutter. “You didn’t feed me.”
His fingers fly over the keys, a crease now forming between his eyebrows. The voice speaks again. “I kept you and then felt guilty as fuck for everything. I’ve been in my room trying to figure out a way to fix it. I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I’m sorry.”
“Do you like it here in this room?”
His jaw clenches. Words spill from the device. “It’s one of the few places I don’t have overwhelming anxiety. Nobody looks at me strangely or thinks I’m different. I can read and listen to music and pet my cats. I can work and research. I can do whatever I want and feel like a normal fucking human.”
“Language,” I tease.
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t laugh at my joke. Torin never laughs. “I lost control earlier. I’m sorry.” Pain flashes in his eyes. His words may be coming through the phone, but I hear them as if he’s the one saying them.
I reach forward and take his hand. It’s cold and clammy in my grip. “I’d like to do it again when I feel better, but we need to open up the lines of communication. I’m confused and upset still. I just need to be held.”
He grinds his teeth. “I don’t think I can hold you.”
I tilt my head up and smile at him. “Then let me hold you.”
I stare at her.
Stare and stare and stare.
Casey.
Mine.
In my space.
Misty is curled up beside her and gives me her smug kitty glare as if to challenge me. I won’t challenge her, though. Casey belongs here with us. I want her to stay forever.
Her blue eyes pierce mine as she watches my movements. I love the way her blond hair fans out on my pillows, as though she’s an angel sent just for me. When I don’t look away or move, her cheeks tinge pink and she pats the bed beside her.
“Here.”
The buzzing in my head is gone. Just her. The snow. Consistent. Constant. Casey. It’s easy to forget who I am and become who I want to be when I’m trapped in her gaze. My body, the greedy fucker, obeys, and I walk around to the other side of the bed. Foggy and Rainy grumble about having to move, but they do. Once I’m lying flat on my back, they settle on my legs. I stare up at the ceiling even though all I want to do is roll over and pin her beneath me. The bed moves as she scoots closer. When her palm splays across my chest, my eyes close.
Fuck.
Her touch is everything.
I wish I could grab a handful of her hair and draw her to my mouth. I wish I could kiss her or murmur all the things I’d love to do to her. But I can’t. What I can do is remain still so she can touch me. Jesus, how I want her to touch me.
Misty moves from her spot and jumps off the bed, leaving nothing between Casey and me. Casey takes the moment to wrap herself around me like she used to do with Tyler. Pride surges through me. This must have been how he felt when she’d do this. Like his world was about to explode. As though the universe was going to crack right open. Cosmic and overwhelming. Too much and not enough.
“Your heart is racing,” she murmurs, her fingers continuing their exploration.
I don’t respond because I can’t. Not right now. I close my eyes and pray she won’t stop. Her fingers ghost over my chin and she runs the pad of her thumb over my bottom lip. I want to bite it like I bite her neck sometimes. Still, I remain unmoving.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re hot?” she questions, irritation in her voice.
I open my eyes and dart my gaze to hers. No one. No one tells me I’m attractive or good-looking. They call me names like “retard” or say things like “stop staring, freak.” Nobody, besides my brother, has ever really taken the time to get to know me.
“I want to kiss you,” she says, her voice sad.
I want to scream from the goddamned mountaintops that she can kiss me. I want her tongue down my throat and her tits pressed against my chest. I want to devour her. To fucking live in her.
I press my lips together.
Moments like this make me hate my fucking life.
She slides a thigh over my stomach and then her body follows suit. Her dainty body straddles mine. Her panties are wet, which makes my dick surge to life. She places her palms on my pectorals and stares down at me, her messy blond hair curtaining her face.
“Do you want to touch me?”
With every damn fiber of my being.
I fist my hands.
Moments like this make me really hate my fucking life.
Her cheeks turn pink again, but she sits upright. For a second, I’m afraid she’ll leave me. I love the way her cunt feels pressed against my stomach. She doesn’t leave, though. Instead, she peels away her T-shirt and reveals her bare chest to me.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
My fists tighten further.
I want to maul her. I want to suck on her tiny nipples and leave a trail of teeth marks showing she belongs to me. I want to roll her over and fuck her until she howls.
And yet, I don’t move.
Anger bubbles up inside me. I just want to be normal for five goddamned seconds so I can love the girl who brightens my entire world. I’d give up my entire fortune for five seconds. Five seconds.
“Torin,” she breathes. “I want you to touch me.”
I close my eyes because this is torture. Everything in me screams to obey. But I can’t. I just fucking can’t. If Tyler were still here, I could message him and ask him what to do next. He’d be eager and big brotherly as he detailed exactly what I should do. Pain slices through me so fierce, it leaves me scarred.
Love.
Love
is painful.
My cock thumps in my jeans when her nipples brush against my chest and her breath fans against my lips. This is pretty fucking painful too.
Love isn’t a cure.
Love is an ailment. Sharp, gutting, torturous.
“Torin, please look at me.”
My eyes pop open and I stare into her sad gaze. I want to make her happy. How the fuck do I make her happy? She grabs one of my fists and brings it to her mouth. Softly, she kisses my knuckles and then she gently uncurls my fingers. When she places my open palm on her breast, I let out a sharp gasp.
“My thoughts exactly,” she says with a small giggle.
I keep my palm cupping her smooth, silky tit even after she abandons holding it there to reach for my other hand. Repeating the same movements, she uncurls my hand to make me hold her. This time, on her hip.
Fuck, she’s so dainty.
Small.
Like Tinkerbell from the Disney movies.
My thumb twitches with the need to rub across her nipple. The movement is jerky, but I manage to make it comply. A hiss of air escapes her and her body jolts. She’s growing wetter through her panties as she slowly rocks her body against me.
Perfect.
She’s beautiful and so fucking perfect.
Her hair brushes against my face when she leans forward. A groan fights for an exit when her sweet lips brush along the corner of my mouth. I’m practically drooling at the hope of sticking my tongue down her throat.
I want to kiss her so bad it makes my head spin.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
My hand at her hip tightens.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she breathes. Her supple lips press against mine. She smells of cinnamon and bananas.
My chest rumbles when she sucks my bottom lip into her mouth. Our eyes meet and hers are flaming with desire. I clutch onto her hip so she won’t leave me. I want her right here always. Finally, my body obeys my begging because my hand at her hip grips at her panties and I start tugging. I want them off and I want inside her. Again.
She whimpers and I release the fabric.
“I’m sore from earlier. It hurt a lot.”
Guilt gnaws at me. When she’d fallen asleep, I cleaned her up with a warm cloth. Blood from the loss of her virginity stained my pristine carpet. As much as the stain will bug me on a day-to-day basis, I’ll also get a tiny thrill each time I see it, knowing that’s the spot where I lost my virginity too.
But it hurt.
I was rough with her.
I’m not sure how to not be rough with her.
“Torin,” she murmurs, catching my stare. “I want to again. Just not right now.” Her lips turn up into a sweet, encouraging smile. It’s enough to make my heart soar. I slide my hand from her breast to her wispy hair. She cries out when I fist a handful at the base of her skull.
Easy now, Torin.
I relax slightly but push her with my fisted hand closer to me until our foreheads touch. Her breaths are coming out uneven and ragged.
“Casey-Casey,” I grit out, my voice harsh when all I want to be is gentle.
She whimpers, her nipples hard as they brush against my chest. “My Torin.”
I close my eyes, overcome with joy at hearing those words. When her mouth presses hard against my lips, I part mine to allow the growl rumbling through me to escape. This spurs her on because she enters my mouth with her tongue. Slick and tasty. A cinnamon delight. She sucks on my tongue and my cock aches for release. My thumb digs into her hip and my fist tightens in her hair. She nips and sucks and runs her tongue all over mine. I’ve never been kissed like this. One day, I want to kiss her back just as eagerly. All I can do for now is hold on to her so she doesn’t slip away. Fuck, how I’ll never let her slip away.
“Mine,” I rasp out when she pulls away slightly. “Casey-Casey.”
“Yours,” she whispers.
She kisses me for what feels like hours. Maybe it’s for eternity. Whatever it is, it’s like time has stopped. Like we’re trapped in our own little bubble. Away from society and death and unfairness.
Just us.
Torin and Casey and Misty and Foggy and Rainy.
Mineminemineminemine.
“Are you ever going to let me go?” she mutters, amusement in her tone.
My mouth works long enough for me to tug at her bottom lip with my teeth and utter my not-so-favorite word but oh-so-favorite word in this moment. “No.”
Tonight and every night, Casey has slept in my bed. The elation that surges through me each night when she curls her half-naked body around mine is indescribable. Sometimes, I come in my boxers just by her rubbing against me. It would be embarrassing except her coos and giggles overshadow it each time. She’s not making fun of me. She’s just happy.
Four nights.
Four sleepless, perfect nights.
She talks. I listen.
She rubs against me. I try not to groan like a beast.
She fills my space with her. I inhale her scent.
She stays. I stay too.
During the days, she works on her college work while I catch up on not only my work, but the workload Tyler left behind when he passed away. The hole in my chest is filling back up.
“Torin?” she asks in the dark, her fingertip drawing designs on my chest.
“Casey-Casey.”
She lets out a small chuckle and kisses my chest. “I think I’m ready.” At first I don’t know what she’s referring to, but then her fingers are dancing down my abs. She covers my cock with her hand over my boxers and it hardens to stone. I know exactly what she means.
“Are you ready?” she whispers, her hot breath tickling my neck as she kisses me along my jaw.
I don’t reply, but my hormones take over. Pushing her away from me, I fall against her, pinning her face down into the mattress. I’ve just pulled her panties down her thighs, my body on autopilot, when she stops me.
“Torin, no.”
My heart stutters to a stop and I jolt from her. I sit up in the bed, rocking myself back and forth to clear my head. I’m confused. I thought she wanted sex. Fuck, how I want sex. In the darkness, I can sense her sitting up. She shuffles around and then she’s straddling my thighs.
“Not that way,” she tells me. “This way. Where I can kiss you.”
“Casey-Casey.”
Her lips press to mine and then she reaches between us. The moment my cock is in her hand, I nearly come right then.
“I want you to touch me,” she murmurs, her hand abandoning my stiff cock and finding my own hand in the dark. She pulls it to her and presses my fingertips to her cunt.
White noise.
Snow.
Quiet.
My inner chaos is momentarily silenced and my fingers do my head’s bidding. I rub between the lips of her pussy, which makes her cry out. A good cry. A cry for more.
God, how I want to give her more.
I want to give her the entire world.
“Like that,” she whimpers. “Yes.”
I’ve seen enough porn to know what women like. My problem is executing it. With each attempt, my motions are jerky and uneven. It makes me nervous that she won’t get off and that we’ll have painful sex again.
What if she doesn’t want to have sex at all after that?
“Torin,” she coos. “My sweet, sweet Torin.”
I’m distracted by her voice. Pulled into the moment. Playing in her snow.
“Mmmm,” she hums as her body tenses against me. “Don’t stop.”
I want to bite her.
The thought is sudden and fierce. I open my mouth as I lean forward. My teeth connect with her flesh, causing her to whimper again. I tug at the skin and don’t let go. I’m trying not to focus on what my hand is doing. All I know is she’s enjoying this. Her body is trembling and writhing at my touch.
“Torin!” My name is yelled out when she reaches her climax. It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
Black explodes with white bliss when her slippery cunt slides down my length. Our grunts are quiet but equally desperate in nature.
I bite, bite, bite her again.
Mine.
She settles slowly into my lap, my dick impaling her. I could come in a flash if she moves, but she doesn’t move. Her palms find my cheeks and her mouth is on mine again. All I can do is offer her my tongue. She sucks greedily on it as if I’m the best thing she’s ever tasted.
God, her mouth.
It’s perfect.
She pulls slightly away, but I don’t want her to get away.
I snap at the air and then my teeth are on her chin. Nipping and tugging. Marking and claiming.
Minemineminemine.
“Yours,” she moans, her hips beginning to move.
Her sliding around on my cock is the best fucking sensation ever. I want to fill her with my seed. Make her mine forever.
She grabs my hand and brings it to her breast. I clutch onto her delicious tit as she rides me. The lights have been turned out and I wish, for a moment, they were on so I could see her sliding up and down along my cock. The image of perfect, naked Casey sends me over the edge. Her fingers begin rubbing against herself right above my cock. My hips thrust up of their own accord as I chase the orgasm I so desperately crave.
“Oh, God,” she cries out, her cunt suddenly gripping my cock.
I come without warning, hot and furious deep inside her. She tries to slide away, but my stupid hands work and I grip her hip hard to keep her in place. I throb out the rest of my release, my heart sputtering out of control in my chest.
“Torin,” she breathes. “We should have pulled out.” I can hear the indecision in her voice. The twinge of hope. “Right?”
She’s referring to the lack of protection.
