and pieces about feeling this before, but every time I think about it, all I can come up with is his face. His smell. His voice. His touch.
Phoenix.
It’s working.
He increases the pressure he puts on my throat, causing me to gasp for air as my oxygen level goes down. I don’t fight him, and I don’t want to … because, deep down, I know this is going to help me.
He leans in, and his words are like honey to a sugar-addicted soul. “I love you.”
He repeats it over and over again until my fingers are numb, my head feels light, and my body hinges on the edge of euphoria.
“Come, Princess. Do it for me. Let it all out,” he whispers.
My body comes at his command. Just like that. As if his voice has control over my body like a slave listening to its master.
Maybe I am a slave to his wicked version of love.
I don’t care anymore. Right now, everything I need is right on top of me, taking my breath away, both figuratively and literally.
My muscles continue to contract around his hard-on, causing him to pulsate inside me. And then he explodes, gushing into me with full force, groaning out loud. For a while, he keeps going, still holding me down.
When the ordeal ends, the pressure disappears off my head, and he releases my throat. My lungs expand to take in a huge breath as he slowly drifts off my body, dropping to the side. But he doesn’t stop there.
He immediately pulls me close to him and wraps his arms around me.
“Tell me you don’t remember,” he murmurs into my ear. “Tell me I’m the only one.”
“You. It’s always you. All I remember.”
“Please tell me that he’s no longer in your head. Tell me it’s me,” he pleads. I’ve never heard him beg before, but if this is what it sounds like, it feels like it makes my heart beat out of my chest.
“It is you,” I whisper. I turn around to face him and place my hand on his cheek. He’s gazing down at the sheets, unable to look me in the eyes. “Look at me, Phoenix.”
It takes him a while to face me. “I did it for you.”
“I know,” I say, crawling closer to him.
“I don’t want you to think of him. Ever again.” He grinds his teeth, still out of breath from what he just did. “I don’t give a damn if that means that you’ll hate me for the rest of your life. As long as I’m the only one on your damn mind, I am fucking okay with that, all right?”
“Shh …” I say, so tired I could fall asleep right here in his arms. “It’s okay.”
“I’m a bad liar, but you know that already. So I’m just going to tell you straight up. I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, and it’s tearing me apart. I want to hate you, Princess, I really do. But you’re making it impossible, okay?”
I blink away the tears. “I know exactly how you feel.”
“We’re sick,” he says, shaking his head.
“Sick motherfuckers,” I say, and he laughs a little.
He grabs my hand and pulls it up to his lips, gently placing a kiss on top. “I miss what we had.”
“So do I, Miles. So do I.”
“Don’t call me that,” he says. “I hate that fucking name. It’s not who I am.”
“It is who you are to me. You’ll always be Miles. My Miles.”
He smiles and caresses my cheek and then leans in to press a kiss on my lips. The kiss is painful and soothing at the same time because I do care about him … and after everything we’ve been through, I still want him. But it’s bad and all kinds of fucked up. We’re fucked up.
But I want him. I want him so damn much. I want him more than a heroin addict wants her next fix. His dark, indecent love … I’m addicted to it.
“Fuck it. I don’t give a damn anymore,” he whispers against my lips. “If you hate me, so be it. I did what I had to do to get him off your mind. I am the only thing you should be thinking about. Period.”
“I know,” I say, rubbing my face against his chest. His smell is so familiar, it reminds me of what we used to be like, and it soothes me. He soothes me. Everything he does, it’s always been because of me. Even when he said he hated me