Page 64 of Beautiful Monster

“What else?” I want this game to last forever.

He grinds me roughly against the side of the pool. “I’d have you on your knees for me, Sunny. Hungry for my cock, every fucking day.”

“Yeah,” I moan into his ear.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, grinding into me again.

“What else?”

“Tell me not to touch you, Sunny.” His hands are on my sides, digging his fingers into the flesh around my rib cage, and I understand what he’s asking me to do. He’s asking me to define the rules of this game. We can imagine it. We can pretend it could happen, but it can’t actually happen. For his sake, this is what Alex needs. To know he showed restraint, that he is not the guy who takes without repenting, that walks away from the version of himself he can’t stand.

His fingers are creeping toward my breasts, and for a moment I consider that my tits don't count. This doesn’t cross the line. His hands fondling my nipples would be fucking heaven and if it’s the only thing I can get, I’ll take it. But I don’t. Because it is crossing the line, and these are the boundaries he needs.

“Don’t touch me, Alexander.” It comes out in a croak, and his hips drive harder against me as I say it.

“Good girl. Tell me not to kiss you.” He’s holding my face in his hands now, staring into my eyes, and my gaze falls on his lips. How beautiful I already know they feel against mine.

“Don’t fucking kiss me.”

“I want to,” he groans against my cheek.

I want him to as well. So bad I’m about to throw all the stupid rules out the window. I could let Alexander have his way with me right now, and none of it would matter. I could nurse his ego to understanding that he’s not all bad. That what I see isn’t what he sees. That he’s not the monster he sees when he looks in the mirror.

That he’s not to blame for this.

This time when he grinds against me, he grabs a handful of my hair, and it’s too rough, but it doesn’t hurt as much as his words. “Tell me not to make you come.”

My chest deflates, and I want to ignore him. I know that if I don't say anything, he would grind his dick against me until I throbbed with pleasure. I can almost taste the orgasm.

“You may not make me come, Alex,” I whisper, feeling defeated, hanging on his shoulders, wishing I could take it all back.

His movement stops. Our breathing slows. Hanging onto his shoulders, he lets go of my body. “Good girl, rain cloud.” My eyes squeeze shut at his words.

I hate that the idea of being with me makes Alex feel like a monster. I wish that there weren’t twenty years between us and that giving him every single part of me didn’t warp his self-image, but it does. And it always will.

He pulls away, leaving my cold body in the pool as he walks toward the stairs.

When he reaches a hand down to help me out, he gives me one of his signature winks like nothing happened between us. “First rule of being a responsible adult is we don’t always get what we want.”

CHAPTER 21

SUNNY

My phone buzzes behind my head, and I reach back and silence it without looking at the name on the screen. Alexander and I were up until almost two a.m. binge-watching something on Netflix, and I know it’s probably at least eleven in the morning already. I smell the coffee from the kitchen.

He didn’t touch me again after the encounter in the pool, which I had to admit grated on my nerves. I wanted to keep playing that little resistance match, but that was the difference between us. For me, it was a game. For him, it was his life.

I don't know if Alex will ever get over our age difference and be ready to let me in. Somewhere in his head, he thinks he belongs with someone else, someone his age, someone better suited to his lifestyle instead of a young woman he won't even introduce to his friends. I have to live with the fact that if he did give in to what I tempted him with last night, it would just be sex. And that’s it. And that would kill me.

I think Alexander loves me as something more. He doesn’t equate intimacy with love, but when he looks at me, I feel something more potent. More pure. And I’ll let him love me however he wants.

My phone starts buzzing again. My dad’s picture pops up on the screen. Sitting up in a rush, I click the green button and hold it up to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Where the hell are you?” he bites across the phone line without a greeting.

“What?” I stutter.