Page 53 of Expressionate
It’s almost over, I promise myself when he speaks again. “You’ll do whatever I say, won’tyou?”
I feel strangled, choking on my own supply of oxygen. Danny’s face hovers over me and I squeeze my eyes closed, continuing to count in my head. I count until I lose the numbers. I count until the strokes of Danny’s cock in my pussy drift away. Danny grunts and groans above me, gripping my shoulders and shoving me down until something inside hurts. I squeeze my eyes even tighter and try to count louder in my mind. But I can’t remember the numbers. I can’tbreathe.
My eyes pop open and Danny’s grinning face is right over me. He presses his lips to mine. I try shaking my head.No. I can’t breathe.His palm moves up, slithering between our bodies until he grips my chin and he slants his mouth over mine, pushing his tongue inside. It squirms between my teeth like a slimy little worm. I inhale through my nose, my eyes wide open. Tears gather at the corner of myeyes.
Danny licks at my lips, his palm releasing my chin to press down on my throat. He’s done this before. It’s not new. But I can’t take it right now. I can’tbreathe. He presses down, holding me as he humps and fucks into my pussy, grunting like a wild boar. Sweat drips down onto my chest, hollowing meout.
Finally – after what feels like years of suffocation – he stills, groaning low in his throat as he releases. Danny’s hand comes away from my throat and he gets off the bed, leaving me – a used body – on top of the sheets. He smacks my side as he ambles into the bathroom. “Good fuck,baby.”
When he’s gone, I sit up. Across the room, my gaze zeros in on a dangling scarf laying over a standing mirror. My eyes automatically avoid the sight reflected there. Instead, I focus on the scarf. The way it twists over from one side of the mirror to the other. I press my legs together, my head descending towards my knees when I feel it. Shocked I spread my thighs and staredown.
I reach for my entrance, horrified when my fingers come away wet – wetter than usual. He didn’t use a condom. Danny always uses a condom. Nausea pools low in my stomach and I dive off the bed, rushing for the bathroom door. I throw it open, startling Danny as he finishes wiping his wet hands on a hangingtowel.
My knees hit the tiled floor hard as I bend my head over the toilet bowl and vomit into the porcelain. “Jesus!” Danny stares down at me as I heave again. Only then does he scramble out of the room, trying to get as far away as possible. Sweat beads on my brow. No. No. No. No. I can’t. I feel my mouth filling with saliva. Heat flashes across my skin and the tears that were there before – tugging at the corners of my eyes – finally break free, spilling down my cheeks. I can’t have kids. I cup my hands over my stomach. No no no no no. I repeat it over and over until the no’s blur and combine into an endless stream. It’s what I’ve always wanted to say. It’s what has always been on the very tip of my tongue, just begging to be setfree.
I say it now. Whispering it to myself as I hang over the toilet, and when Danny comes creeping back in, grimace in place. I say it as I lie and tell him that I’m sick. He nods and tells me that I should probably take some Advil or something before he heads back into the bedroom. I stand up. I walk out. I put on clothes all while he climbs into the bed he just fucked me in. I tell him I’m going to get medicine. I leave. I go to the closest drug store and when the lady at the pharmaceutical desk looks at me with a raised brow, I stare back at her with dead eyes. I purchase the pill that will take away all chances, and dare tohope.
I hope I’m not pregnant. I hope it eradicates any possibility for the future, though I know it won’t. I hope I can find a different direction to go when I walk out of the store. Because I’m not going back. I’m never going backagain.
18
Tax
Iround into the hallway, still feeling like an ass about earlier. Sarge and Blake have obviously let it go, and Cross wasn't there so he doesn't give a shit, but I wonder about Love. I probably scared her. Even I hadn't expected my rage to take over so quickly. If I thought back on it, I could tell something was off about Damien the second I mentioned having a girl. He's not the type to get relationships. Why buy a cow and have to take care of it if you could just drink the milk for free? Those were once his words to me on the subject of relationships. I'm ashamed to admit that I used to agree. So, I knew he wouldn't take Love well. But the moment Damien opened his fucking mouth and called Love a bitch, I sawred.
I step into Sarge's kitchen and catch Love standing at the counter, her head bowed, her shoulders stiff. "Lovely?"
She jerks when she hears my voice. Those big green eyes of hers come up, and I rock back on my heels with the amount of emotion in them. It's trapped, swirling in the depths of some frigid wasteland. If eyes are the windows to the soul – hers are in such pain. What happened to cause that? Just minutes ago, she wasfine.
I stride further into the kitchen, reaching up to cup her cheek. "Hey," I whisper, "what happened? Are youokay?"
"I'm—"
I cut her off before she can finish. "Donottell me you're fucking fine right now." I can't take it. "Don't fucking lie tome."
She's quiet for a moment. "I-I can't tell you why," shewhispers.
I nod my head, even though I don’t understand. “That’s okay,” Isay.
“Tax – I-I’m not—” Her whole body is trembling – from her delicate shoulders to her hips. She's shaking so hard, it's almost as if she's vibrating. I smooth my hands down her arms. Is she having a panic attack? Anxiety? Fuck. I don't know how to deal with these things. I don’t know what to fuckingdo.
"What can I do?" I ask. "What do youneed?"
"I—" Love's eyes zero in on my mouth. "I need you," she says quickly, her gaze snapping to mine. Emotional whiplash slaps me across the face.Huh?
"Please, Tax," she grips my shoulders, pulling me closer, standing up on her toes. "Please just make it go away." She presses her lips to mine and my mouth opens automatically. Her tongue sweeps across mine, tasting like beer. Closing my eyes, I press her against the counter hard, my cockswelling.
Is this really what she needs?I wonder. But her hips grind against mine and when I palm her waist and lift her onto the counter she whimpers softly, gripping me close. "Please, Tax," shewhispers.
Fuck. I can't tell her no. I don't wantto.
I turn my head towards the doorway, listening intently. I don't hear footsteps in the hall. Everyone is either in the living room or somewhere else. I wonder if there's a way we can do this without alerting the others. If someone walked in on us – I’d be liable to kill them for seeing Love even half naked. I spot the pantry and an ideaforms.
I pull her legs around my hips and lift her up, turning and striding across the kitchen to the single door to the side of the refrigerator. I slap my hand against the knob as I press Love against the cool side of the fridge. She gasps against my throat before kissing my pulse and licking down to my collarbone. Fuck. I can't comeyet.
Swinging the door open, I step into the dark interior of the walk-in pantry. The door closes behind us, shutting us in completely. I push Love's legs down, spinning her around. I kick her legs apart and bend her over slightly before I lean down and slip my hands up the sides of her dress. I slide around to her front and then pull the silky, little scrap of fabric covering her pussy down her thighs, moving down as I go. They catch around her knees and I curse, leaving them as I feel my way back up. I stay down, my own knees on the dirty pantry floor and inhale the scent of her sex. I groan as I lean forward and swipe my tongue up herslit.
Love's gasp is fucking music to my ears. I tongue her again, gripping an asscheek in each palm and spreading her as wide as I can. I lick up one side of her labia and then down the other before circling her entrance. She reaches back, panting, searching. I release one cheek and catch her hand, letting our fingers intertwine. Her spine softens, and she pushes back. At least I'm doing somethingright.
