Mirage - Alice Tribue Page 0,74
yourself.”
“You’re the liar here.”
“Right. Because you’re a fucking pillar of honesty and morality.”
“Get. Out,” I yell, lifting my head to get in his face, but he doesn’t take the bait. My invitation for an argument goes unanswered. He stares at me and asks quietly.
“What are we going to do, Tori? What are we going to do with all this shit between us?”
The sincerity in his eyes hits me hard. It makes me want to wrap my arms around him and hold on for as long as I can, but nothing has changed. I’m still too hurt to get past what’s happened; it’s all too fresh, the wounds unhealed.
“We’re doing it. We’re moving on.”
“That’s what you’re doing, but not me. I understand that you felt blindsided, I get that I hurt you, baby, but I did what I had to do and I risked everything to protect you.”
“I know that.”
“Then why can’t you let us move forward?”
“I don’t know; I just can’t. There’s too much hurt, too many lies, yours and mine, and it’s just too messy.”
“Life is messy. It gets ugly; you know that more than anybody does. But, babe, wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have to go through that shit alone?”
“Not if the person you’re with is the reason it’s messy,” I counter.
“Your shit was messy before I ever walked in your life.” I open my mouth in rebuttal, but he cuts me off. “We could do this all night. We could battle about this all night, but I don’t want to fight with you.”
His lips graze my ear and a flick of his tongue sends my pulse into overdrive.
“I’d rather love you,” he says, kissing a trail down my neck. He knows me, knows how to use my body against me, and once he gets me started, it’s so hard to stop.
“Nathan.”
He ignores me, continuing to kiss my neck to my collarbone. He releases my wrists, trusting that I won’t push him away. I don’t. A finger grazes the strap of my top, gently pushing it down, replacing it with his lips. God, that feels good, I think to myself as I unwillingly let a whimper escape from my lips. He takes that as my willingness for him to continue, and if I'm totally honest, I don’t want him to stop. I want him to make me feel good again after days of feeling nothing but miserable.
His hands grip my waist, and I scream when he flips me over onto my stomach, pulling me back so that my ass is up, and my face is down in the mattress. The crack of his hand on my backside breaks into the quiet of the night.
“Yes,” I cry, unable to deny how good it feels. Shit, this is so bad. I should stop him, I know, but his hands on me are just too good.
“Every time you try to push me away, when you try to convince yourself that you don’t love me, remember the way I make you feel,” he says, pushing my underwear to the side and slipping a finger inside me.
“Nathan,” I call for him again, hating him and loving him at the same time as his finger starts to move inside of me. His other hand on my back holds me in place, exactly where he wants me to be.
“You want me to slide my finger out of you? Push my cock in instead? Would that make you feel better, baby?”
I moan my response, pushing my hips back in order to get him in deeper. Only his finger is gone and I’m rewarded with another slap on the ass.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” I cry, not caring anymore if it goes against everything I’ve said. If it makes me a hypocrite, I just don’t care.
He grinds his crotch against my backside, and I love it. I enjoy the delicious pleasure that the feel of him gives me, even if there is a layer of clothing separating us.
“God, Nathan, please. Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, fuck me,” I beg.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He lets me go, reaching over to my nightstand for something. When he finds whatever it is, he tosses it with a thud onto the bed and climbs off.
“What are you doing?” I push myself up into a sitting position, eyeing the vibrator that he just threw on my bed.
“You don’t need me, remember? You don’t need anyone. Maybe that can finish the job I started,” he snickers, pointing to the vibrator.
“I hate you,” I spit out,