Page 44 of Rectify

When I was with him, I always wanted more. To see more, feel more, do more.

His recklessness encouraged my own, brought a side of me that I never knew I had. A side that I had pretty much forgotten, until now.

Like two addicts searching for their next fix, there’s no such thing as slow and gentle. Instead we’re slick with sweat, fucking every single emotion in and out of one another.

An exhilarating sting makes its way through my pussy, as he mercilessly pounds into me. My body jolts with every thrust, almost expecting him to break me apart. Wanting him to.

“Harder,” I beg.

Forcing his mouth off my skin, he brings his head up at my request. Complying without even a second thought, his hips hammer into me, as the eyes of an unhinged man hold my gaze.

“Harder?” he taunts more than asks. His expression is unreadable, but the fierce pulse between us says enough. It's just as much for him, as it is for me.

I squeal when he pulls out of me and turns me over, effectively interrupting the connection. Gripping my hips, he guides me on all fours and thrusts into me from behind.

It's perfection. It provides the sensual, physical thrill while giving me a reprieve from our intensity.

“Touch yourself.” His voice is hoarse, but his demand is unwavering. I press two fingers to my clit as he runs me ragged.

“I need you to come,” he barks as our skin slaps against each other unforgivingly.

I answer with a mewl as his cock thickens and slips in and out of my wet walls. I rub myself frantically as he hits the magic spot from within.

“Jay,” I cry out “I'm there. Shit. I can't… I can't.”

It becomes impossible for me to be coherent, my breath caught in my throat, my body turning to jelly.

I hear a loud fuck, as my body violently trembles and his throbbing cock unloads inside me.

We both drop to the mattress, him on top of me; both of us breathing heavily. I turn to face him, and his storm has calmed. Whatever was there minutes ago, haunting him, coaxing him, is no longer there.

I want to ask him about it, see if he's okay, but my mouth doesn't work. I'm spent.

Slipping out of me, I feel the bed dip as he cleans himself up. Heat radiates off his body, as he returns and cradles me to his chest. My eyes struggle to stay open, the lids closing and refusing to open in between blinks. My breathing evens, the scent of us floating around me, creating an unfamiliar sense of contentment.

His lips skim the outer edge of my ear before he whispers what I’m sure is thank you, but I fall asleep just before I can ask him what for.

* * *

I wake up wrapped up in Jay, and blankets covering us both. My muscles are achy as I stretch against him.

“What time is it?” he asks, sleepily.

Noticing it's still dark outside, and we're still naked, I pull his arms back around me. “It's still early,” I whisper.

“It's not tomorrow yet.” On a technicality it is tomorrow, but I know what he's implying. Even asleep, he's trying to intercept a chance for me to get into my own head.

I turn in his arms and kiss his relaxed lips. “It's not tomorrow yet.”

* * *

The sun peeks through my blinds, warming up my bedroom; alerting me that it is definitely morning. I roll over as I stretch only to find the other side of my bed empty.

I immediately feel nauseous, but tell myself to breathe through it. I try to convince myself that he could be in the bathroom, or the kitchen, but old habits die hard and self loathing creeps in. How could I let him do this to me again?

In my home, and my bed.

Frustrated, I pull the pillow he slept on to me and wrap myself around it. It smells like him, and I want to wallow in it before I accept that I just got played again.

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