Page 92 of Apathy
He gripped my bare thighs, his thumbs dangerously close to my core.
“So, you tell me.” He pressed his lips against my knee, his dark lashes fluttering as his eyes closed. “Do you want me to leave?”
My chest rose and fell, and I closed my hands into fists, battling the need to touch his dark silky hair. I didn’t want him to leave, but I had to let him go.
“I-I…” I stammered.
“What do you want, Moonshine?” he asked again, pressing his lips to my other knee.
“I want—”
He licked his way from my kneecaps to my inner thigh, lifting my skirt higher and higher, until it was hunched around my hips, barely covering my drenched panties. If somebody walked inside, there would be no doubt in their mind about what we were doing.
“Do you want me?” His grip on my thighs became painful. “Because if you don’t, I’m not sure if I would be able to let you go.”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
My heartbeat echoed in my ears until I bit my lip, tasting blood.
“You’ve ruined me for everybody else, Moonshine,” he whispered, dragging his finger over my soaked panties, sending small rivulets of pleasure through my body. “And I don’t give a shit if you think that this couldn’t work, it has to.” He pushed my legs apart, planting his face between my thighs, inhaling me, tasting my skin, devouring me until I couldn’t remember why I had to stop us.
“You can’t decide that you don’t want us anymore. You simply can’t. And you know why?” He looked up, a small smile dancing on his lips. I shook my head, my ability to form words stripped away from me. “Because I belong to you, Moonshine. I belong to you today, tomorrow, a hundred years from now. I will always belong to you.”
I wanted to tell him I would always belong to him as well. I wanted to tell him how much it hurt not having his hands on me, loving me, teasing me, caressing me as if I was the most precious thing. But I couldn’t tell him any of those things.
I couldn’t tell him that my soul cried every time I thought about leaving him, protesting against me.
But I had to leave him, even if I didn’t want to.
I had to, because if I didn’t, the next dead body would be his, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened.
So this, this here… This was our goodbye.
“Ash,” I murmured, making him lift his head as he started peppering my skin with kisses. “I want you.”
Something blazed in his eyes. Something dangerous, sinfully delicious, a vicious desire that was coursing through me as well, and it was like flipping the switch—in one moment, he was soft, and in the next, it was as if everything he was holding in came out.
His pupils dilated, punishing touches pushing at my shoulders until my back was plastered to the chair.
“I hope you’re not too fond of these.”
“Wha—”
The sound of my panties ripping in two filled the air, and before I could comprehend what was happening, he lowered his head, spreading my legs wider and wider. My skirt went higher up, and I lifted my butt to let it go all the way over my hips.
He inhaled, his breath caressing my clit. “You smell like heaven.” He pressed a kiss on the hood of my pussy and then licked all the way from my opening to my clit. A moan escaped me, and I threw my head backward, pushing my hips toward him. “You taste even better.”
“Please,” I begged, willing him to play with my fire. He licked me again, running his tongue over my clit, over my lower lips, while his fingers spread me wider, baring me to him. “Ash!”
“Is this what you want?” He smirked as he entered me with one finger, lazily dragging it up and down.
“Ash!” I protested again, bucking my hips, begging him to go faster.
“Or this?” He pushed inside with a second finger, then the third, mixing pain with pleasure as he dove and bit on my clit.
