Page 46 of Pretty Broken Things

A tear slips down her face, and as mad as I am at her, I still can’t bear to see her pain. I crawl up the bed and take her in my arms. All the questions I have will wait. If this is to be the last time I hold her, I’m not going to waste it with angry words.

Tessa’s hands grip my t-shirt, and she buries her face against my chest. Her breathing is choppy, and her body shakes uncontrollably.

“If this upsets you so much, why are you doing this to us?” I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t understand any of this.

“Some things are more important than what I want.”

I stroke my hand through her hair. “You know I don’t understand anything you’re saying to me.”

“I know,” she whispers. “But I’ve told you everything I can.”

“Are you in trouble?”

She bites her lip. “It feels like it, or at least it feels like I’m being punished.”

“What for?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t ask me anything else. I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Tessa pushes against my chest. “You really shouldn’t be in here. If we’re caught—”

“Shh, we’re here alone,” I reassure her.

My words are meant to settle her down, but the look in her eyes turns even more desperate. “I need you right now. I should send you away. What I should not be doing is giving in to this craving, because it’s reckless and stupid. Especially since you don’t know—”

“Then tell me,” I beg her again.

“I can’t,” her voice breaks.

Before I can implore her further, she gently cups my face and pulls me in for a kiss. Her lips brush across mine, gently at first. Then the hunger I see in the way she looks at me takes over and her movements become frantic. It’s heartbreaking, because I know she’s saying goodbye.

I’m too weak to stop her. If this is to be the last time, I plan to savor every kiss, every touch. For the first time Tessa takes control, and I let her. All the things she can’t tell me yet, she shows me. I’m confused as fuck, but I try and hold on to this.

She’s ignored me, avoided me, and even spent time with her ex, and yet with her body she’s telling me there’s no one else but me. Her hands slip under my t-shirt and stroke over my chest. She’s not touching me to arouse, but to memorize. There’s a reverence to her touch, especially as her hand rests over my heart and lays still to feel the beat.

“It didn’t beat before you, and I don’t think it will after you,” I whisper.

We don’t use words after that. Our conversation consists of frantic kisses, roaming hands, and wordless moans. Despite the urgency we both feel, we take our time. Clothes are shed slowly. I work my way down her body, worshiping every inch as it’s unveiled to me. I memorize the taste and scent of her skin. I burn deep into my memory the way she sighs when my lips travel across her flesh.

If she is determined to walk away from me, I’m going to guarantee she’ll never be completely free of me. She’ll look back on this night and feel my touch ghosting over her skin. I’ll never be free of her, and it’s only fair if the same is true for Tessa.

My heart feels full and empty at the same time. I move over her, working myself deep inside, not just into her body, but into her soul. The feel of being inside of her is euphoric as always, but that’s not the point. All I want is to steal a part of her I can hang onto when she leaves. I try and hold back the tide of ecstasy swelling up inside of me, but the moment her pussy clenches around my cock I’m done. I groan into her neck, and hold her tight.

I can’t let her go, and I get the sense she feels the same way as she clings to me in return. We went from the heights of pleasure, and were quickly tumbling to the depths of melancholy.

Wrapping her arms around me and holding me to her, she says, “Just a few minutes. Then you have to go.”

I hold her until her breathing evens out, and even though I know I shouldn’t I close my eyes. For the first time in two weeks, I sleep.

* * *

“What the fuckis going on here?”

I crack open my eyes, and find Wendell standing in the doorway to Tessa’s room. My mom peeks under his arm, and her face drops. I can see the disappointment in her expression.

I grab the covers and pull them higher on top of myself, but it’s pretty clear I’m not dressed.

“Oh Ford,” my mom sighs. “What have you done?”

“He’s coerced my daughter into this disgusting, incestuous relationship. He cannot stay in this house and be allowed to violate my daughter,” Wendell blusters. His face is beet red and droplets of spittle spray from his mouth.

---