Page 30 of Shattered Echoes

He chuckles and indulges me, cranking it up a few notches. I hang on to him for dear life as he slams into me, loud smacks echoing through the sitting room as our bodies collide into each other. Antonio’s pace is frantic, and the pressure on my walls is relentless. My sight wavers and my body stiffens, my walls gripping him tight. My legs tangle around him, locking him in place.

I shudder and vibrate, pushing myself deeper into him and letting go. I hear him grunt in pain at the crushing pressure of my pussy walls, but I ignore him. I’m almost there. The orgasm I experience feels like a psychedelic high, tearing my mind to pieces and rearranging it back together differently. I let out a shrill cry from my throat, my toes curling as the sensation rips through my entire body.

It seems to last for a lifetime, and when I’m done, I still feel residual electricity crackling inside me, making me twitch. I open my eyes and see Antonio shuddering as well, resting on his elbows as his cock pulsates without rhythm inside me. His head collapses beside mine after a few seconds, his forehead dotted with sweat.

Afterwards, we lie breathless and spent, our limbs still tangled together in a messy knot. Our ragged breaths, the only sound in the room aside from the steady ticking of the clock, punctuate the silence.

Shame niggles at the edges of my mind, but it's overshadowed by a sense of contentment, feel connection I haven't experienced in a long time.

Antonio strokes a loose strand of hair away from my face. His thumb traces the curve of my cheek. "That was…" he begins, his voice hoarse.

"Unexpected?" I finish for him, a small smile playing on my lips.

He nods, a rueful smile gracing his features. "To say the least."

He looks at me, his eyes searching mine. The question hanging in the air is unspoken, but loud and clear.

Do we pretend this never happened?

I know the answer is yes. This is a recipe for disaster. We're both fragile and riddled with the consequences of our past actions. But the memory of his touch lingers on my skin, a potent reminder of the connection we have just shared.

Reality seeps back in, though, bringing with it a tidal wave of conflicting emotions. What have I done? The chorus of doubts and recriminations echoes through my mind.

I shift away from Antonio, aware of our state of undress. He props himself up on one elbow, giving me a meaningful look.

"Colette," he begins, his voice still holding some lingering desire. "That was..."

"A mistake," I blurt out, the words tumbling from my lips before I can stop them. "We shouldn't have done that."

His brow furrows, a flicker of hurt flashing across his features. "Is that what you think?"

I swallow hard, my throat dry. Is it? A part of me wants to cling to this moment, to bask in the afterglow of our passionate encounter. But a louder, more insistent voice whispers of the complications that lie ahead of the tangled web we've just woven.

Shame coils in my gut as I remember Henry's face, his warm smile, and easy affection whenever Antonio's name comes up. How could I betray him like this, with his closest friend? The thought is almost too much to bear.

And yet… hadn't I already betrayed myself countless times before? I’ve allowed myself to be diminished, broken, twisted into a shadow of my former self, all in the name of fulfilling others' expectations and bending to their whims.

A flicker of defiance boils within me, fanning the flames of the desire still simmering in my veins. For once in my life, I've done something selfish, something for my own needs and wants. The realization is both terrifying and empowering. I meet Antonio's searching gaze head-on, my jaw set in a stubborn line. "It shouldn't have happened," I amend, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. "But I…I don't regret it. Not entirely."

A flicker of surprise registers in his expression, replaced by a look of relief so palpable it's almost comical. He reaches out, his calloused fingers grazing my cheek in a tender caress.

"I don't regret it either," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of my lip. "God help me, but I don't."

The depths of emotion swirling in his eyes rob me of breath. This is so much more than a momentary lapse, a fleeting indulgence born of loneliness and despair. There's a connection here, fragile yet undeniable, that threatens to sweep me away in its undertow.

"It can't happen again," my voice steadier than I feel. "You're Henry's best friend, Antonio. What we just did... It's wrong."

He's silent for a long moment, his gaze boring into me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. Then he nods.

"You're right," he murmurs, running a hand through his tousled hair. "It was a momentary lapse, brought on by... well, you know."

I know, loneliness… the bone-deep weariness of carrying too many burdens. For a brief, shining moment, we'd found solace in each other's arms, a temporary escape from whatever demons that haunt us.

But reality has a way of reasserting itself, and now we're left to pick up the pieces, to rebuild the fragile boundaries we've just obliterated.

I dress in silence, aware of Antonio's eyes following my every movement. The air between us crackles with an electric attraction, like live wire waiting to be tripped. As I pull my shirt over my head, his fingers graze my lower back, sending a shiver cascading down my spine. Our gazes lock, and in that infinite moment, the world stands still.

It would be so easy to surrender again, to lose myself in the tempest of his touch. My resolve wavers, teetering on the precipice of shattering into a million pieces. The moment passes, fortunately, and Antonio withdraws his hand. An inscrutable look flickers across his chiseled features. He turns away, leaving me to finish dressing in peace.

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