It’s hard. It’s so fucking hard; I can’t decide what to do. Continue with using and abusing her, or forgive her and move on.
Maybe there’s even a possibility …
No.
How could there be, after stabbing each other in the back so many times?
There’s nothing redeemable about us. Nothing that makes us good. Nothing that makes us worthy of love. Not me or her.
However, I still can’t stop yearning for it all. And I know she does, too.
***
A few hours later
Working with a shovel to dig up the sand has given my mind some time to store the emotions that came with hearing her story. I’m beat; sweat drips down my forehead as I’ve finally buried the body below the earth.
It’s done and over with; time to go back inside.
Thunder bangs around me, and I run my fingers through my wet hair. The rain is clashing on the roof as I walk upstairs and go into her bedroom to check up on her. She’s sound asleep, still in the bed, as she’s supposed to be. Of course, there’s no way to escape with me right in front of the door. Not that she could, as she seemed tired from the assault. And even if she could, I know that she wouldn’t … she wouldn’t run away from me, not anymore.
Not now that she told me she still loves me.
She won’t run away from me because she probably believes there’s still something worth saving.
I shake my head, wishing it were true.
I walk to the closet where I keep the assistant and give her something to eat. It takes her a while to swallow it all, as she spends half her time shouting at me instead of chewing. When she’s done, I give her something to drink through a straw. Then I stuff her mouth with the cloth again and chuck her back into the closet.
I go into the bathroom to take a nice hot shower. The water cascading down on my shoulders is a good distraction, although I still can’t seem to take my mind off her.
Vanessa. So beautifully ruined by life. Just like me.
I can’t help but feel attracted. It’s in my nature to want the things I can’t have … to desire things that are sinful.
The more I think about her, the less I can stop picturing her naked in that bed. I wonder if she’s dreaming about me the same way I’m thinking about her right now.
I sigh, looking down at the tub while the water runs down my fingers. I feel so empty, and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m used to the rage and the bloodlust coursing through my veins. But now … now there is nothing. Nothing, except an unending need. A need for her, in whatever way I can have her.
Goddammit.
I smack the wall, but it doesn’t stop the lust from building up inside me. I can’t stop thinking about her, can’t stop wondering how it could’ve been if we’d made different choices in life. Her lips, her body, her mind, her heart, it could’ve all been mine, if only …
Fuck.
I drop my head to the wall, and let the water slide down my back, warming my ass and legs. Just thinking about her now has made me half-hard, and for some reason, I feel fucking bad about it. This isn’t me. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit if I got a hard-on; I’d just get over there and fuck her. Or, if she wasn’t around, I’d make do with a jerk. So I don’t get what the problem is now; why I’m suddenly feeling shit out of nowhere.
I bring my hand to my cock and start pulling, desperate to prove to myself that I’m still myself. I’m still a fucking rock, a man who can handle anything put in his path. I jerk until my cock is erect and bouncing up and down with need, wanting so badly to sink itself into a beautiful pussy like Vanessa’s … the only pussy it wants.
Fucking hell.
After making it thump, I stop jerking my cock and shout a few swear words into the air. I can’t fucking do it. No matter how much I try, I can’t fucking do it anymore.
I used to be able to fucking jerk-off to the thought of choking her to death. That’s how fucked up I was.
Now, all I can do is drool over her and her luscious body,