Page 37 of What We Broke

We’re playing with fire, but as Jesse stretches me wider with a second finger, I ask myself,who cares?

He continues to push his fingers inside me, deeper and harder, pegging my prostate with every thrust, just the way he knows I like.

I feel the familiar heat running up and down my spine, and despite not wanting to lose his touch, I grip my cock and fuck my fist. Furiously.

I’m unraveling, all the pent-up emotions rising to the surface as my body threatens to explode. Jesse matches my pace, pushing in three fingers, the pain-induced pleasure between us now turning angry and desperate.

This is a far cry from the way it started, but it’s the only way it would end.

Jesse suddenly slides his fingers out of me, spreading my cheeks farther apart, and eases the sting caused by his fingers with an unexpected swipe of his tongue.

I can’t handle any more.

I have no choice but for it to be over.

Every single one of my muscles tightens as Jesse continues with the punishing assault of his tongue. My body trembles at the arrival of my impending release and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop a loud moan from leaving my mouth.

Ropes of cum paint my hand as the wall in front of me becomes my own personal support person. I press my cheek to the tile, hoping for relief while I try to catch my breath.

I am spent.

Physically and mentally, I have reached a threshold I didn’t even know I had.

I can still feel Jesse’s presence in the shower with me, but I can’t will myself to turn around and look at him. I am too raw to deal with the aftermath of whatever this is.

But even then I don’t know if I want him to stay or go.

“Here,” I hear him say. He comes up behind me, surprising me when he kisses my shoulder gently and hands me a soaped up loofah. “I’ll get you a towel.”

Because I have no self-control, I glance over my shoulder and watch him exit the shower. I stare at the back of him as he drags his saturated jeans past his perfectly toned ass, showing off his beautifully muscled body, if just for a second.

When he wraps a towel around his waist, I remember I’m supposed to be cleaning cum off myself, and I give my body a quick once-over and then turn off the water.

When I turn back around, Jesse has left the bathroom and a clean towel and a stack of clothes are ready for me on the nearby rack. I dry myself and try to anticipate what it’ll be like when I walk back into our room.

Between my confession and the shower, I don’t know where we stand.

So much was said, but even then it didn’t even scrape the surface.

Quickly, I dry my body and get dressed in the lounge pants and t-shirt Jesse picked for me. When I find the courage to walk back into the room, I’m surprised to see he’s still in a towel as he places a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the nightstand.

“What’re those for?” I ask.

“I didn’t know if you needed some water after tonight, and I figured some Tylenol couldn’t hurt.”

“You didn’t have to. I could’ve—”

He cuts me off when he steps closer to me, and I can’t help but reach for him, my hands landing on his waist. The unmissable sharp intake of his breath reminds me just how much damage the last year has done.

He cradles my face and his thumbs gently skate back and forth over my cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers. “That you decided to stay.”

I know he doesn’t mean here in this room, but rather here and living, in general. It’s a huge thing to admit, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t already feel pounds lighter.

“I’m going to grab some clothes and have a shower in the hall bathroom,” he informs me.

My eyes dart between the bedroom door and our own bathroom door, quizzically. “You can have one here,” I suggest.

“I know,” he answers simply. “But I’m going to call it a night and sleep in the guest room.”

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