Page 45 of Violent Cravings

I simply nod.

"But why only once a year?" she presses. "If it's a different girl each time, why not do it more often? Isn’t that enough diversity to keep you satisfied?"

I huff. "You'd think so."

She straightens up, her eyes wide with curiosity. If she was a little kitten, I bet I could see her ears pointing up with attention.

"But it's not?" she probes. "Or did you lie when you said you only do this once a year?"

"Why would I lie to you?" I frown.

She shrugs. "To make me feel special?"

Her words anger me, not because of what she's saying, but because of what it does to me. I hate that she doesn't realize how special she is to me, no matter the circumstances. At the same time, I'm aware that I can't tell her either. She shouldn't know because it would make things a lot harder than they already are. I will have to let go of her tomorrow evening, and just thinking about it makes my stomach turn.

"Only weak people resort to lying if they want to make an impression on others," I claim.

"So you really are doing this only one time a year?" she clarifies. "You only have sex once a year?"

I huff.

"Look at you talking, Miss never-had-sex-before," I say. "Why is it so hard to believe?"

A faint blush travels across her cheeks.

"Yeah, but that's different," she says.

"How so?"

She clears her throat, reluctant to reply.

"Because it's... you," she eventually dares to whisper. "And you're a man and all..."

"What a presumptuous thing to say, doll," I say, narrowing my eyes.

She looks alarmed, ready to spit out an apology, but I stop her before she does.

"Don't worry, you're not getting punished," I tell her, lifting my hand in a reassuring manner. "Just trust me when I say that I want it this way. I need it to be this way."

"But why?" she continues, still not ready to let it go.

My eyes lock onto hers and I let out a sigh, communicating that I've had enough of this conversation.

"Because that is what makes me happy," I say. Subject closed.

She presses her lips together as if trying to keep herself from asking anything more. I can tell she's not happy with my answer, but she senses that asking anything further wouldn't be a smart thing to do.

I'm not ready to share the truth with her, and I'm convinced that I've already said too much. She doesn't need to know about the black ghost of addiction that once haunted me. It's been gone for years, but I feel it creeping up on me every time I do this. Every time I fuck, every time I play, every time I come close to a woman. It's still there, ready to take over as soon as I lose myself for even a moment.

I can't let that ever happen again.

"Whatever," she whispers, turning her eyes away from me and back to the pizza. "It just seems odd to me."

She pauses for a moment, the expression on her face changing before she continues to speak.

"Besides," she says. "Who says I'd be happy with having sex only once a year, now that you've given me a taste of what it's like?"

She winks at me, trying to come across like a naughty little tease. I have clearly awoken new kinds of urges inside her that she didn't know existed before.

But her words leave a discomforting ache in my chest.

Because I know I won't be the one to meet those needs.

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