Page 65 of Where He Ended

Now? I want to be selfish.

Reaching down, I hastily remove my belt. My cock is already pushing violently against the inside of my pants. When I peel them open, my shaft flexes eagerly in the open air. It juts towards the sky like it's a dowsing rod searching for Laiken. It knows she isn't here. But in spirit she is—and that's enough to set me off.

Pumping my cock frantically, I'm assaulted by image upon image of that perfect woman. I think of how fast she was when I chased her. How strong she was climbing the fence. Ripping apart her golden dress.

Groaning, I bite her pillow and squeeze myself. My skin is scorching. The veins under my fingertips pulse—I'm on the verge of climax already. I'm not here to luxuriate or draw it out. I'm jerking myself off because I'm a desperate man hanging onto an idea of a woman who both belongs to him, and also can't ever be his.

But she said she was mine.I press my molars together and growl.And I told her she belonged to me. That I'd be her first . . . her last . . .and even now, knowing how terrible that fate would be for her, I still fuckingwant it.

I want Laiken.

I need her.

And in my bliss I forget, for just a delirious second, that she isn't here with me.

“Fuck,” I choke out, trembling as my balls draw tight. I come while gazing up at the ceiling she woke up to day after day after day. Raspy breaths explode from me for several minutes.

Sticky, hot come puddles around my fist. My eyes are dry, I can't tell if it's because I've drained myself of moisture when I climaxed, or because I'm examining every thin crack in the plaster above, committing it to memory the way I think she must have.

Blinking would help, but I resist the urge with all my might. If I shut my eyes, the flash of black will disconnect me from this moment. I want to lie here in my sweat and seed and think only of Laiken. Her sweet smile lifted my spirit. Her sly grin woke my black desires.

My eyes are burning now; Istilldon't blink.Control yourself,I think while gritting my jaw.It's the least you can do for her.Control. That word is the fucking embodiment of whom I struggled for years to become, an idea I tried to form myself around.

If you have control, you're in charge. It means people listen to you. Respect you. That theyhearyour voice andknowyou exist and they'll never be able to forget you're right in front of them. They won't wish you were never born, or wave you off while they kill themselves, or cry at you over the phone because they can't see you only want to keep them safe.

She didn't cry because she didn't understand,I correct myself sullenly.

Laiken cried because she loved me.

I blink.

And then I don't want to open my eyes ever again.

****

SOME TIME LATER, Istep out into the hallway. The early sun streams through the rows of windows. It's empty—no maids around to check on me, or to give me wary looks, like they know what I just did in Laiken's room.

I shut the door behind me securely. On impulse, I twist the lock, hoping it will signal to everyone to keep out of the room and leave it untouched. Part of me knows that place isn't hers anymore; that her energy will ebb from the floor and walls and bed as time goes on. But for now, I'm too torn up inside to consider that happening.

I start to walk forward then I halt. The red rug beneath my shoes seems softer today. Focusing on how the plush material spreads around my black shoes, I get an idea. Pulling my shoes off, then my socks, I set my toes experimentally on the rug. The fibers encase my foot. Each step I take across the rug brings me bliss. And anguish.

This was what Laiken wanted from me when I was a teenager - to just enjoy the wonderful things right under my nose. She'd recognized that I was holding myself back constantly, always afraid of upsetting my parents. I'd been consumed with becoming the man my father wished me to be. But she'd seen from the start that his goals weren't my own. That beautiful girl, she knew me more than I knew myself.

“Dominic, what the hell is this?”

Lifting my head, I see that I've walked all the way to where my father's study is. He stands there with his thumbs looped in his pockets, face pulled together by wrinkles and disapproval. He stares at my feet, then right into my eyes.

I wait for the shame to rise up.

It never comes.

Shrugging calmly, I wiggle my toes. “What's it look like?”

“Like you're humiliating yourself by waltzing around without any damn socks or shoes on. This isn't a beach vacation. I guess I shouldn't expect you to take anything serious, though, hmm?”

Down the hall, I see the ghost of Laiken from another time; a lanky girl as she runs around the corner, right before slamming into me. I can hear her bell-clear laughter in my head. “Actually, the problem was me taking everythingtooseriously.”

He scrutinizes me before waving at his study. “Get in here.” Following him, I'm barely inside the room before the doorclicksviolently behind me, the motion stirring the hair on the back of my head. “Your mother is acting like her world is collapsing, I won't let you start going off the deep end, too.”

---