Page 157 of Tiny Fractures

“Fuck, Cat,” Ronan groans, and his lips momentarily leave my skin. His eyes close, his breathing heavy while I caress him.

I enjoy the fact that I can make him feel like this, that my touch gets him high. I slightly increase the pressure, tightening my fist as I rub him a few seconds longer, pumping him. My eyes are glued to his face, which looks almost pained with pleasure—his lips slightly parted, brows furrowed, eyes shut tightly as he focuses on my touch. I feel powerful at the realization that I can make him lose control, can make him surrender himself to me like this even after all he’s been through. But I become impatient, needing more of him, and I tug on his pants, wanting them off.

He pushes me back gently, and I sit first on the bed before pulling up my knees and scooting back to lie down all the way. Ronan stands over me, his glossy eyes roaming my body appreciatively, and I shiver under his gaze before he lowers his body carefully onto mine. His lips crash against me as he pulls my swimsuit bottoms to my knees, and I kick them off the rest of the way. I’m completely exposed to him, and his hands and mouth suddenly seem to be everywhere at the same time, his hunger for me seemingly insatiable. He kisses my neck and my collarbone, licking and nipping his way steadily downward. I moan loudly when Ronan’s tongue glides over my nipple, making it hard only to suck it into his mouth. His hand cups my other breast, his thumb teasing me, driving me absolutely wild. Heat and voracious want pulse between my legs, and they fall open.

“Ran, I need you,” I whisper, and Ronan pulls back, his hands on either side of me as he scans my face. Then he kisses me fiercely. He tries to adjust his position but winces, and his right hand snaps to his knee. “Are you okay?” I breathe, concerned.

Ronan doesn’t answer me. Instead, he kisses me deeply before pushing himself up and undoing the brace on his knee.

Although he moves more gingerly, his eyes are ablaze with want. He turns to his side to lie next to me, pulling me with him, facing me. I push his jeans down, and he manages to get them off the rest of the way, always gentle, always careful with his knee. Then his right hand moves around my thigh and pulls my leg over his hip, making me vulnerable to him. I’m beyond ready to feel him, aching for his touch there. My eyes flutter shut and my head falls back when Ronan’s hand moves from my back to my stomach, down between my thighs, then gently glides over that throbbing flesh that makes me pant out his name. He pushes me closer and closer to the edge as he strokes me softly, his fingers circling, sweeping, playing with the pressure until he finds one that makes me arch my back into him.

“God, Ran,” I whimper.

I moan, my breathing shallow, and I feel the pleasure build, threatening to overtake my thoughts and senses any second now. Just as I’m about to go over the edge, Ronan slips a finger inside me, feeling me like that while he continues to stroke me gently with his thumb. It’s all I need and I come undone, whimpering a moan with each orgasmic wave seizing my body.

“Fuck, baby,” Ronan groans quietly.

The ecstasy pulses through my veins and my hips grind against his hand. I never want him to stop touching me exactly the way he’s touching me right now; the ripples of pleasure rolling through me leave no space for thought or breath. It’s all-consuming.

But too soon, the waves let up, my climax waning, and I regain control long enough for Ronan to pull off his boxer briefs and roll onto his back. With both his hands, he grabs my hips and pulls me up and over him. I straddle his lap and, carefully, he pulls my hips down as he pushes up and into me. He watches me the entire time, making sure he isn’t causing me any pain as this is only the second time we’ve been together like this.

But there is no pain, only pleasure as he enters me. His eyes shut when I lower myself onto him all the way.

My body is primed and ready for him. I hold my breath at the sensation of him stretching and filling me, taking up all available space, and I marvel at the feeling that we were made just for one another, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly.

“I love you, Cat. I’ve always loved you,” Ronan breathes as he begins to thrust up and into me over and over again. He moves slowly at first, giving me time to adjust to him again. The way he feels—his fingers delving into the apples of my hips, his delicious thrusts—and the sound of his husky voice swirling all around me flood me with overwhelming love for him.

I don’t know what to do with my hands; all I know is I need to hold on to something. As if he can read my mind, Ronan guides my hands to his shoulders and I grip them tightly, digging my nails into his muscles while he cups my butt with his hands, splaying his palms over my cheeks, and continues to drive us on, his movements becoming faster and harder, matching our breathing, edging us to nirvana. I let my head fall back, eyes shut, feeling only him. God, I’ve missed him so much.

Unexpectedly, with one quick movement, Ronan holds on to me and flips us so I’m on my back and he’s between my legs, supporting himself on his forearms, our chests touching. I look at him, his eyes bright, glossy, fiery, his body burning as he thrusts, hard, and I’m no longer able to contain my moaning. I say his name over and over again before, finally, I’m pulled beneath the waves of pleasure again. I’m vaguely aware of the way Ronan’s breathing changes, how his muscles coil and his thrusts become less refined—more desperate—as he, too, seeks those few moments of blissful oblivion. I know he’s there, is on the cusp of climaxing, and I move my hips to collide with his. Ronan’s face momentarily takes on a pained expression before he seemingly falls into the void and comes. His head dips down as he breathes fitfully against my neck, his body tensing and releasing with each orgasmic shockwave rocking his body until he stills inside me with a deep, quiet exhale.

Tuesday, October 26th

Ronan

“I’m not okay.”

I’ve been home for just under three weeks now, trying to settle into a new routine. I finally went back to school last week, but I have a hard time focusing. I can feel my grades slipping; I’m way too behind from missing almost two months’ worth of classes. Plus, I keep having to leave early because it’s still too exhausting for me to sit in a chair for more than a couple of hours. My body gets stiff, every bone starts to ache, and I end up calling Steve or my dad to come get me and take me home.

I haven’t been able to keep up with the work because my mind is still so damn foggy from the meds I’ve been prescribed. It’s not the pain pills now—my doctors have been weaning me off those—but the anti-anxiety medication Doctor Seivert prescribed when she found out about the nightmares.

I’ve been having night terrors every night since I was in the rehab hospital. Some nights are better than others and I’m able to wake up by myself. But most nights I can’t, and the terror goes on and on until either my dad or Steve shake me into consciousness. I always startle awake, drenched in sweat, my breathing out of control, and my entire body aching. It’s to a point now where I’m afraid to go to sleep and I fight it for as long as I can until the exhaustion overtakes me, pulling me under and into darkness.

Each night leads me through the same hallway, into the same living room, facing the same person, feeling the same pain, the same fear. It’s relentless, and I’m fucking exhausted from the fractured sleep; the short, interrupted nights. So exhausted that I find myself zoning out or falling asleep in class, unable to focus or form a coherent thought. I doze off when I’m with my friends and Cat. She never says anything, but I know she’s worried; they all are. I keep feeling their eyes on me, especially Shane’s, who I think can sense my downward spiral.

I’m burdening them with my shit. I know everyone is ready to get back to normal, move on with life, and I’m keeping them stuck in this hole. They’ve all had to adjust their lives for me and it makes me feel guilty.

My dad is in New York full-time now, traveling only occasionally for work and to see Penny in Virginia. She comes to visit my dad on the weekends. Even this stranger had to adjust her life around me. Penny has stayed with us twice now and it’s still awkward as hell having her in the house. It startled the shit out of me when I got up that first morning she was here after I came home from the hospital. I slowly figured out a way to get down those damn stairs by myself with my crutches just to round the corner and see a woman standing in the damn kitchen. For a second, I thought it was my mother—even though she and Penny look nothing alike—and it took me a good minute to get my heart rate under control.

Steve has been taking online classes to stay on top of his credits before eventually moving to Boston, though he told me the other day that he wasn’t sure when that was going to happen. He feels obligated to stay and make sure I’m okay. Pile that on top of everything else.

And then there is Cat; beautiful, smart, kind, perfect Cat. Always by my side, loving me through everything, sacrificing her time with her friends to stay with me when I’m too exhausted to hang out with everyone, which has been happening more and more lately.

I haven’t been to Shane’s in over two weeks now, turning down most opportunities to hang out, and when they come over to spend time at my house, I end up getting fatigued so quickly that I either fall asleep on the couch or need to hobble up the stairs and to my room.

We were all supposed to hang out at Shane’s last weekend to celebrate Tori’s birthday, but I couldn’t muster up the energy. Fuck, I couldn’t even get out of bed, feeling the need to just sleep all day after almost no rest the night before, which was riddled by one nightmare after another. I ended up completely bowing out, urging Cat to go have fun, and, in the end, Steve and Vada picked her up and took her to Shane’s with them.

When Cat came over on Sunday, after I again declined to hang out with everyone, Cat told me she felt like I was withdrawing, and maybe I am. I don’t know. I just know that being around Zack, and Vada, and Shane, and Tori, and everyone else has been draining rather than invigorating. I don’t want them to worry about me, so I put on a face when I’d rather be alone. Really all I want is to sleep a dreamless sleep and not fucking wake up.

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