Page 170 of The Catalyst

“Good,” he whispers before he slams his mouth down on mine, stealing kiss after kiss, as my body melts for him. I bury my hands in his hair, tugging on the strands as he reaches up my oversized shirt and tears my panties out of his way. “I love you so fucking much,” he growls, keeping me pinned in place, as he whips out his cock and thrusts hard into me, giving me zero preparation for him or his size. I throw my head back and scream from how good it feels.

Martin has never been rough with me. Well, there’s rough and then there’s this style of rough. This is more of Ollie’s thing. Martin is just the generic type of rough and demanding, but to get this from him now, it’s intoxicating.

“I love you,” I moan the words again as he slams his cock into me again and again, grunting with each thrust.

I guess this is what one would describe as make up sex or would it fall under the category of hate sex? Maybe it’s a mixture of the two. Martin is mad at me and he’s taking all his frustrations out on my cunt.

“Say it again,” he demands as he thrusts again. He’ll surely leave bruises this time and I’m perfectly happy with that.

“I love you,” I moan louder, feeling my orgasm creeping up.

Lifting my leg over his hip, he uses his free hand to slap my ass, hard. “Louder,” he growls.

“I love you!” Then, my orgasm hits so hard it sprays out of me, soaking him. “Fucking God. I love you so much it burns!”

He leans over me, pressing his face against my own, as he groans. “Let it keep fucking burning.” Then, he kisses me again before he follows me over that edge and he comes hard inside me, waves of release hitting him again and again until it starts to spill around his dick. Then, even though he has gotten off, he keeps thrusting into me until all of his come that was going to leak out has and fucks the remnant deeper into me.

* * *

I just got cleanedup from the animalistic way Martin fucked me then left. He didn’t even say goodbye. He fixed his pants and walked out with that heartbroken look firmly back on his face. He’s hurt, but it’s not the end of us. He made that clear.

Let it keep burning.

That was all I needed to know that Martin needs time and space to work through what I did. At least, that’s the hope he placed in my head.

The sound of screeching tires outside catches my attention but doesn’t worry me. That happens all the time. What does catch my attention is that it sounds like it happened right outside my room. Then, it’s slowly followed up by a knock.

I’m certainly popular tonight.

“Open theee door,” comes a majorly slurred voice before more spaced-out knocking follows it. “Beth, let me in. I need to seeee you.”

Oliver?

I wipe the tears still present on my lashes before glancing at the clock. It’s past midnight.

Leisurely, I pull on my thin cotton robe before walking to the door, pulling it open a crack.

“What are you doing here?” My voice cracks from all the hours of crying over him, and my lip trembles.

His eyes fall on me, but they miss my watery eyes or convulsing bottom lip. “Your haaair,” he slurs as I press myself between the door and the jam to stop him from being able to enter.

Unlike Martin, Ollie doesn’t deserve the chance to invade my space. Martin still isn’t aware of the baby I’m carrying and Ollie was fully aware how alone I was before he disappeared on me. Martin wasn’t.

That means I gave him the grace that I won’t give Ollie. Martin wasn’t the only one who said we were in this together. So did Ollie.

“Yeah, I removed the color, and you’re drunk.”

His glassy eyes meet mine, and darkness shadows his expression. “What happened? Did someone hurt you? I sweeear, if someone laid a fingerrr on you…” he trails off, leaving it open-ended for me to fill in the blanks.

My tears are not just about Martin and the fight between us. It’s also becausethisman abandoned me the same way his cousin did.

“Take a look in the fucking mirror,” I mutter.

“What?” His eyes move across my face and then down to my robe as if he’s trying to see through it to what might be beneath.

“Youghostedme, Ollie. Did you really think that wouldn’t hurt? If you didn’t, you’re a fucking idiot.” A small sob falls from my lips as he leans against the doorframe, watching me with a look I can’t decipher. I’m not surprised. I can’t tell what half the looks he gives me mean. “You said we were in this together.”

“We are,” he enunciates the words as clearly as a drunk person can. “I just…” he trails off, and it's silent for a moment as I wait and give him a minute to explain why he did this to me, why he abandoned me. I can understand work obligations and friends and forgetting to do things or go places, but he didn’t deny that he was avoiding me. It was completely intentional. “Ireallyneeded to see you. Let me inside, crazy girl.”

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