It’s the last thought I should have about this situation or him, but it’s there, in the back of my screwed-up mind—this is safe.
Completely and utterly safe.
He kisses me slowly as if, like me, he doesn’t believe this is happening.
After years.
Eleven, to be exact, but who’s counting, right?
I try to be in control, I really do. I’m the one who started this and it should be on my terms and mine alone. So I keep my lips shut.
“Let. Me. In.” He accentuates every word with a bite against my lower lip and when I don’t comply, he traps the sensitive skin between his teeth and bites down so hard, I’m surprised there’s no blood. “Fucking. Open.”
My mouth parts with a whimper and he uses the chance to thrust his tongue inside. My insides liquefy at the raw passion and unapologetic strength he holds me with.
He kisses me like he wants to ruin me and worship my body at the same time. He kisses me like I’m his arch-enemy and only friend.
My head swims with the conundrums, and it blurs the signs of the panic attack I usually get under similar circumstances.
His tongue toys with mine, licks it, and renders it completely helpless. A moan reverberates in the air and I’m not sure if it’s his or mine.
I’m not even sure what I’m doing anymore. I only meant to shut him up, but it’s turning into so much more.
It’s turning into something I can’t stop or control, not even if I wanted to.
My legs part wide when he settles between them, and that causes the arousal I’ve been helplessly reining in to smear my core.
At first, I don’t put two and two together, but then I sense the emptiness of his hand on my waist. Not long after, two long, calloused fingers trace the line of my underwear. They slip beneath the fabric, teasing my clit, then thrust in my opening.
All in one go.
I gasp against his mouth, my stomach clenching. Despite the pleasure, despite the sloppy sound of the in and out of his fingers, I feel like throwing up.
No, not only feel. I am going to throw up.
I wrench my swollen, battered lips away from his and grab his wrist over my dress, causing his hand to stop.
The shake of my head is as frantic as what he must see in my unfocused eyes. “D-Daniel…”
“What?” There’s a cutting darkness in his tone, a challenge that he’s baiting me to take. “If you want me to stop, tell me why.”
“Why would you care? Why do you even want me?”
“Why would I even want you? Isn’t that the million-dollar question? I don’t fucking know, Nicole. I don’t know why you’re the only woman I see despite having hundreds at my disposal. I don’t know why I’m blind to them and not you. Never you. Did you put some bewitching mojo in my food?”
A tear slides down my cheek. “You’d rather be bewitched than admit you want me?”
“And you prefer hiding over wanting me back.” He curls his fingers inside me and darts his tongue to lick the tear from my eye to my cheek, then he bites the droplet that got stuck on my lip.
My grip loosens on his wrist and he takes it as an invitation. Daniel thrusts his fingers inside my pussy hard, fast, and couples them with sliding his thumb back and forth on my clit.
The pleasure is so strong that my hips jerk and I ride his fingers, my lips pressed in a line and my eyes rolling back.
When the orgasm hits me, it’s as intense as his touch. As damning, too, because I can’t stop releasing sounds that I usually muffle with the back of my hand. I can’t now, because he’s licking my face, nibbling on my lips, and tasting the pleasure he triggered off my skin.
He releases my neck and unzips his trousers to free his cock. I’m mildly aware of it, but I only feel it when he slides out his fingers and replaces them with his cock with one brutal thrust.
I scream as the still fresh orgasm bleeds into another one. It’s much stronger this time and my eyes slam shut.
Blurry gray images form behind my eyelids like vengeful shadows. Drops of black ink stain my vision.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The stench of cigarettes and weed suffocates me. The violence they promise condenses in the distance like distorted lines.
It’s pain now.
Raw pain.
And I can’t say anything, because it’s my fault. I started this.
I deserve the pain.
The panic attacks.
The sleeping paralysis. All of it.
Please don’t hurt me…
It stops then. The sensation of being trapped. He’s not thrusting inside me.
He stopped.
It’s over.
“Peaches…”
My eyes slowly open to find Daniel staring at me with a furrow in his brow.
We’re still joined, his cock filling me until I can no longer tell where he starts and I begin.
It’s Daniel.
Daniel.
I don’t know why I want to cry from both frustration and joy.
“You think I would ever hurt you?”
“W-what?”
“You said ‘please don’t hurt me’ just now.”
Shit. I spoke that out loud?
“Say it, Nicole. Am I hurting you?”
I slowly shake my head.
“Then why did you beg me not to just now?”
I wasn’t talking to you, but I can’t say that and expose how much of a freak I actually am.
So I use my earlier tactic and kiss him. I’m more aggressive this time, biting his lips and tasting him on my tongue.
He tastes of peaches and impossible addictions. Logically, he shouldn’t. Logically, he’s not supposed to be a replica of my lollipops and my coping mechanisms.
But I welcome it anyway.
I need to be anchored in this moment. To Daniel and his mythical eyes and euphoric touch. I can’t allow the shadows to creep in again.
Daniel pulls out a little, then drives back in, hitting my G-spot. I shake with the force of his thrusts and moan against his mouth.
My eyes get droopy once more and I can feel myself slipping into that other realm.
A hot hand grips my nape, squeezing the side of my throat. “Eyes on me when I fuck you.”
My pulse skyrockets as I let Daniel’s eyes trap mine. They’re full of stars, galaxies, and planets.
They’re otherworldly, overwhelming even, but they’re also safe.
The safest thing on earth.
Even if I could only look at them from afar.
Even if being too close may blind me.
Both my palms find his cheeks and I stare at his face as he fucks me deeper, taking his time to hit that pleasurable spot over and over.
By the time he ups his rhythm, I’m on the brink again. A wordless gasp shapes my lips and he devours my mouth as he pulls out of me and I feel his thighs quivering against mine.
My mind is hazy as I stare down and see him coming all over his hands. His cum smears my clothes and his before dripping on the ground.
It’s then I realize he actually fucked me without a condom. Shit. If he wasn’t thinking straight and pulled out at the last second, we’d have more complications on our hands.
And why the hell am I disappointed about that?
Wake the hell up, Nicole. You had unprotected sex with a womanizer and you’re disappointed he pulled out?
I release his face, frantic to disappear from his vicinity. Maybe I can dig a hole and hide in it for the foreseeable future.