to the assault, to the man who abuses her, to the lover who takes what he wants.
She submits.
And I take full advantage.
Thank fuck she’s wearing a dress instead of pants because I would have torn through the fabric to get to her. This isn’t slow. This isn’t sweet. This isn’t about touching all the right places and taking care of her needs.
This is fucking, plain and simple, a man taking without thinking, and a woman giving herself up in an effort to soothe the beast.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I shove them off my hips, free my cock to push inside her and shove her panties aside. With one fast, hard thrust I’m inside her, Emily’s body slamming against the door as she’s filled entirely.
A squeak flies from her throat, both pain and pleasure, both heartbreak and love, before I pull out to the tip to thrust again a little harder.
My body moves mindlessly, my hips hammering back and forth, her body slamming against the door so hard it’s banging and rattling. Over and over and over.
Am I hurting her?
Probably.
And is she hurting me?
Yeah she is, just by giving this to me when I don’t deserve it.
With my face buried in her neck I insult her. I don’t even know what I’m saying, the words just pouring out. With each forward thrust of my hips, I confess how much I hate her, why I hate her, and Emily cries, but says nothing in return.
She’s letting me hurt her.
And I hate her even more for it.
How can I hurt the woman I’m supposed to protect?
Why won’t she stop me when she knows I’ve lost control?
When I come, it’s hard and deep inside her, my mouth covering hers as my cock throbs with the orgasm, her body clamping down on mine as she falls apart at the same time.
I’m sorry.
It’s all I can think.
A million times, I’m sorry.
Yet neither of us can breathe to say it.
Reality sets in immediately when our bodies calm down.
And with it, the guilt.
Always the guilt.
I’m destroying the woman who holds me together. And by hurting her I’m hurting myself. I should walk away. End this. Set us both free. But I can’t let go of a woman who was born to be mine. Even as the world constantly attempts to steal her.
I set her down, my head full of cobwebs and confusion, both our movements jerky and uncoordinated as we tuck our clothes into place and look at each other not knowing where to go next.
Silence sets between us so thick it’s deafening. That damn guilt hanging over us like a shroud. We’re in the same room and yet there are miles between us.
It should never have come to this.
And all I know how to do is make it worse.
“I should leave,” I say as I stab a hand through my hair, clenching my fingers to tug at the strands because...fuck...that shouldn’t have happened.
Yet we’re powerless to stop it because beneath the guilt, the hurt, and the hatred is a love so deep, so true and so undeniable that we’re puppets to it, our strings held by all the barriers between us.
We want a lifetime.
We want a future.
And all we’re given is short moments when we can pretend loving each other is possible.
Emily nods and steps out of the way, and when she turns her face, I know she’s hiding what she’s thinking and feeling.
I just used her, and she just let me.
A good man would stop and make sure she’s okay. A man who loves her would refuse to walk off.
I do love her.
But I’m not good.
Instead of comforting her, I slice her open again.
“I think we both know you deserved that.”
She flinches, but doesn’t look my direction.
“For what?”
Quiet for a few seconds, I answer, “You tell me.”
I don’t give her the chance to respond before I open the door and walk through it to leave. I don’t stop until I’m outside and climbing in my Jeep. I slam my hand against the steering wheel and lay my head back to stare up at the stars overhead.
They twinkle down at me like the night of the bonfire. The night Emily danced. The night everything went to hell. They mock me and I snarl in response.
By the time I’m pulling out of her driveway and onto the road, I’m laughing to myself to realize what just happened.
I’d gone to her house to guilt her into a confession. And all I managed to accomplish was hurting her again.
Like I always