Page 147 of When the Storm Breaks
She responds, sinking deeper. And when I hit the back of her throat, I nearly drop to my knees. It feelssacred.
I push forward, forcing her to take all of me.
She gags, thrashes, her nails clawing at my skin—and in her struggle, I lose myself completely.
“Breathe through your nose,” I murmur, burying a hand in her hair, threading the silk through my fingers.
And as her breathing steadies, I pull her hair tighter and fuck her mouth—relentless, possessive.
I watch her closely. Her eyes are watering, her throat working to take me.
But when the first tear slips down her cheek, my stomach lurches.
The memories flood through me—fast, merciless. The tears she shed in the car that freezing-cold night. The ones that welled when she talked about Jules. The dried streaks I know I saw when I showed up at her apartment, too late to fix any of it.
They gather in front of me now, forming a current strong enough to pull me under. Guilt crashes over me in waves. And for a second, I almost let it.
Because I shouldn’t be doing this. Not like this.
I pull away, heart pounding, head tipping back as I stare at the ceiling. My hands shake as I try to steady myself.
The warmth. The safety. The overwhelming need to keep her—
I’m fucking dying.
Because she deserves the truth… and I can’t even look at her without seeing the lies.
She gazes up at me, pupils blown wide, eyes full of something raw. Primal.
But there’s trust there, too.
And that trust is what undoes me.
Because she deserves more than what I am. She deserves a life fullof light. Not one shadowed by my darkness.
I can’t keep doing this to her.
“Stop,” I say, my voice cracking.
She freezes, confusion flashing across her face—
And then I see it. The trust fading, the comfort slipping away.
She moves back, eyes searching mine, trying to make sense of the shift. But beneath the confusion, she’s scared.
And I hate that she has a reason to be.
She stands, eyes locked on mine, and I yank my briefs back up—too fast, like I’m trying to cover more than just skin.
Adrenaline floods me. I swallow hard. The words catch in my throat, choke me, like I’d rather die than confess.
“Calla…”
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing—stupidly—that it all might disappear.
But it won’t.
This truth will never justdisappear.
