Page 21 of Say You'll Stay
“Fuck,” I groan, the sound low and guttural, as I caress the sensitive flesh, imagining the way Cara’s lips would part, her tongue flickering teasingly over the swollen head. My palm glides over the slick, throbbing skin, heightening the pleasurable friction until I’m drunk on the sensations.
Images of Cara flood my mind - the lush curve of her lips, the intoxicating depth of her gaze as she looks up at me, her hands holding me steady. The very thought sends waves of lust crashing through me, a begging demand to be sated.
Growling low in my throat, I picture her lithe body stretched out beneath mine, arching into each thrust as I plunge into her welcoming heat.
“So tight… so damn sweet,” I grunt, my pace quickening to match the phantom rhythm of our shared fantasies.
My other hand travels south, cupping and massaging; The slide of her panties on my heavy balls, adds another layer of sensation that brings me ever closer to the edge.
It’s as if I can feel Cara’s deft fingers there, driving me mad with their expert touch.
A harsh gasp escapes my lips as I envision her on all fours, muscles straining with each punishing thrust. The memory of her sinful moans, the way they would seep into my very being and ignite a fire within me, echoes in my ears, spurring me on.
“Harder… take it harder,” I growl, the words a commanding refrain as my pace quickens, the grip on my cock tightening. And then, as if I can feel the quiver of her body around mine, the tension within me reaches a crescendo.
Pleasure crashes over me in a tidal wave, my release spilling forth in hot, thick spurts that coat my stomach. I’m left panting, reeling from the intensity of my climax, but even as the afterglow begins to fade, I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret.
Will this ever be enough? Will I ever have more than these fleeting, secretive rendezvous to sustain the inferno of my desire for Cara?
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth as I set about cleaning the evidence of my indulgence.
With each wipe, I’m confronted by the gnawing emptiness that lingers within me, a void that no amount of self-gratification can ever hope to fill. Until I can make this fantasy a reality once more, these nightly rituals will have to suffice - a bittersweet sanctuary for the love I hold for my sweet Cara Mia.
Time seems to blur together in an endless cycle of meetings, paperwork, and calculated public appearances; The weight of my father’s failing health hangs over me like a dark cloud.
The cloying scent of Amethyst’s perfume assaults my senses the moment she glides into the office, a calculated intrusion that sets my nerves on edge. I grit my teeth, willing myself to maintain the practiced veneer of composure as her manicured fingers graze my arm in a gesture meant to soothe, but only serves to ignite the smoldering embers of my irritation.
“How are you holding up, June?” she purrs, her voice dripping with a feigned concern that fails to reach the calculating glint in her eyes.
“Could you not be so…you right now?” I snap, the words laced with thinly veiled disdain. “Sit down, look pretty - that’s what my mom pays you for, isn’t it?”
Amethyst’s brow furrows slightly, a flicker of hurt flashing across her features before she smooths her expression into a practiced mask of concern. “June, I’m only trying to help. You seem—”
“Help?” I interrupt, my voice sharp and mirthless. “The only way you can help is by leaving me the hell alone for once.” I gesture sharply toward the chair across from me. “Just be a good little ornament; because if you leave now, Elaine will appear. So sit the fuck down and shut up Amethyst. That’s all I need from you right now.”
She hesitates, seemingly taken aback by my uncharacteristic curtness, but ultimately complies, settling into the chair with a measured grace that only serves to further grate on my nerves. The silence that stretches between us is pregnant with tension, a charged stillness that I refuse to be the first to break.
Amethyst’s gaze remains trained on me, unwavering, and I can feel the weight of her scrutiny like a physical force, pressing down upon me until I’m fighting the overwhelming urge to squirm under its intensity. The air in the room feels thick, stifling, as if the very walls are closing in, trapping me in this parade of expectation and obligation.
I force myself to hold her gaze, to project an air of calm that I’m far from feeling. But beneath the surface, my emotions are a raging tempest - frustration, resentment, and a deep, gnawing longing for the freedom and authenticity I once knew in Cara’s embrace.
Chapter nine
My heart is heavy with worry and an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as I navigate the sterile hallways of the hospital. The last time I found myself in a place like this, I was visiting my own father, a memory that still stings with the raw, unhealed wound of loss.
But today, it’s not my family that brings me to this sterile purgatory of sickness and sorrow. It’s June’s.
The news of his father’s sudden hospitalization spread through the city like wildfire, and before I could even pause to second-guess my actions, I found my feet carrying me here, to this moment, to him.
I spot June at the end of the hallway, his proud shoulders uncharacteristically slumped under the weight of his father’s condition. He’s not alone. Judith, his ever-present sister, stands beside him, her hand resting on his arm in a gesture of comfort and support that sends a pang of jealousy through my heart.
Approaching slowly, I’m suddenly unsure of my place in this tableau of familial grief. “June,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.
He turns, those striking eyes that once held such warmth and love now guarded and shuttered. For a fleeting instant, as our gazes lock, I’m transported back to a time when those emerald depths sparkled with laughter and promised forever. But now, they reflect only the harsh glare of the hospital lights and a wall of stoic distance.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken words and shattered dreams. I search his face for a clue, a sign of the June I once knew so intimately, but I’m met with an impenetrable facade of cold composure.
Judith’s voice cuts through the suffocating tension like a scalpel. “Cara, now is not the best time.” Her words, though not unkind, are firm, a clear boundary being drawn, a line in the sand separating me from their world of wealth and privilege.