Page 48 of The Spiral
Freezing air blasts into the space around us, causing my teeth to chatter instantly as I search the area for fog. There isn’t any, but that darkness is coming even if I can’t see it. I know that because I know her now. I can feel her inside me with every next gaze he makes. She’s channelling in me. My blood boils regardless of this air around us, almost hurting as I watch him watch me.
“You ready for me?” he asks, taking one step towards me.
“I...”
Nothing comes out of my mouth as he moves in and slips his arms around my waist, tugging me into his chest.
“We’ll fuck here. On top of our son. Remember him.”
His lips come at me quicker than I expect, forcing me backwards towards a tree trunk. They’re harsh and unyielding as his tongue drives in, moulding us together with little effort from me. It’s all I can do to hang on to him rather than be swept off my feet and thrown to the floor. And I can feel that coming for me. I don’t know why but I know this isn’t the Jack who made love to me on the floor. This is the harsher version of him. The one who’ll fuck with little care for my comfort or stability in the middle of this madness.
Hold onto him, Maddy.
My head rips away, desperate for air from his assault and her voice. Hands are everywhere on me, grabbing and sliding, pinching in to hoist my leg up onto him and around his back. He pushes again, shoving me harder onto the trunk behind me and making me yelp at the pain.
“You’ll fuck like we did before,” he growls, a harsh bite into my chest causing me to squirm in his hold and attempt clambering away. “Remember us like you should.”
Fear etches into me from somewhere, reminding me of Lewis and his power over me. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memories and focus on Jack’s voice, but it’s all too similar. His hands, the biting sensation, the hard touch of male all over me, consuming me.
“Jack, I can’t do this,” I stutter out, trying again to push away from him.
His hold becomes fiercer than ever, his face coming up to mine to stop me from talking at all before I get a chance to think. Lips mould again, instantly warming me regardless of his handling staying as rough as it’s become. Something about his mouth reminds me that it’s him, though. It changes everything, all thoughts of Lewis evaporating the second our tongues collide again. I grip on again, aroused immediately because of the connection, and barely able to think of anything but him. And then memories come from somewhere. They lash around in my mind, telling me of things I’ve never known. A white dress. Dancing. The ring on my finger and the sound of applause.
A wedding.
“Oh god,” I breathe out through our lips. “Selma.”
Just hold on.
It’s freefall from there, all the feelings and emotions she’s got somehow propelling their way through me with no stopping them. It’s not me here anymore. I’m barely holding onto any reality at all as I let her consume me without fight. And it’s so cold now. So very cold I can barely catch my breath as he pushes and hoists me further up. Every touch is like ice across me, somehow whispered through me until I’m numb to anything other than his fingers biting in and holding on.
He shoves again, making me howl at the pain as my back grates and grinds against the trunk. It should hurt, I know it should, but instead it feels euphoric, some part of me screaming for more of it even though I should be running from his hold. The negligee gets pulled from my skin, thrown somewhere. I’m not even sure if I did it or he did, or maybe it was her.
Oh god, Selma. She’s screaming at me, moaning and calling his name, pushing it through my lips without my consent. It’s panted and groaned, as if she’s here rather than me and there’s nothing I can do, or want to do, to stop this insanity taking hold.
“Baby,” he says, grunting as he finally tugs my hips upwards and seats himself inside. My eyes fly open, lips trying to say something I can’t find in my mind. “I’ve missed you so much,” he says, grinding into me and cutting through any inch of separation that was left. “You’re home, baby.”
I do nothing but stare into hazel eyes as he pushes deeper inside me, waiting for something to tell me this is normal, that it’s okay for him to be fucking a ghost through me. I can’t find anything to say, nothing of my own anyway. It’s all her and him. Her moaning. Her clawing at him. Her whispering his name, pulling him closer with my hands.
“Tell me, baby,” he mutters, long slow thrusts building their rhythm as he wraps an arm around me and lifts me from the trunk. I don’t know what to say, or even if I should, and the moment he drops me to the floor, covering me with himself and still driving in, I know I don’t have to. They’re not my words to say. They’re hers.
“I love you,” murmurs from me, barely able to separate my own thought from hers. “I love you, Jack.”
Winds whip the air, a crackle of thunder following them as he keeps pushing in, his lips moulded to mine the entire time. It’s timeless, precious. Them together. Me breathing for her, feeling every inch of him for her. It’s all so serene, a connection coming from them that I feel privileged to be in the middle of. And then that fog comes. I can’t see it. I don’t need to. I can feel it smothering my icy skin, feel it warming the space around us and bracing me against him with no route for escape anymore. It’s calming, levelling me into him at the same moment as she begins to cry. I can feel that, too. It send ripples through my skin, making the orgasm coming chase itself quicker for her. And now I’m crying. I can feel the tears tracing my face and telling me stories about them. Love, honour, respect. It’s all so intense, so penetrating. Every emotion they feel is flooding me and wetting his face as his stubble grates my cheek and he keeps up the rhythm.
“Jack, I love you.”
I wish I knew who said that. It’s not her anymore; it’s me I think. All I can feel is he and I, some part of her disappearing as my orgasm crashes and I grip on tighter. He shunts me downwards, forcing my back onto the deck, and rises up to watch me groan out the orgasm. I pant at him, letting the ebb of other worlds fill me with the love they talk of until he lifts one of my legs and tips it over his shoulder.
“One was never enough for you,” he says, a dirty smile leaving me breathless at the sight of it, let alone the thought. “Tell me you want more.” His belt rubs against me, small nudges of it heightening every freefall towards crashing orgasms. “Let me hear you, baby. Remind me.”
I groan again, or I think I do. I’ve given up caring who’s here anymore, more consumed in the feel of him on me than anything else. And I want to see him all, I do. My hands are reaching forward to tug his shirt off before I consider whether it’s appropriate. I don’t care about anything but this, here and now. He helps me instantly, clawing at his own clothes until he’s as naked as I am, neither of us caring for the fog that surrounds us, the freezing temperature, or the darkness that’s once again come from nowhere. This is us, the three of us, for better or worse doing whatever the hell this is.
“Jack, please. More.”
He levers down, his lips brushing mine peacefully at the same moment as he deepens the drives again, filling me so completely all breath leaves me. Love drifts again—a love that I can’t comprehend, yet understand so intensely that my mind nearly explodes at the richness of it. So many memories. So much joy and happiness, all of it coming through her and into me with no fear of me seeing such intimacy.
“Our son.” I gasp at the words leaving my lips, another tear pricking the corner of my eye as he covers my body with his and groans. I can smell him—Lenon. I can even see his boyish eyes as this man carries on driving in, filling me with thoughts of carrying our child and loving him, loving them both. And before I know what’s happening, I’m sobbing, my hands scratching at his back to pull him in deeper, find something that’s lost between us even though I’ve never known him. But I have known him. I know that now. I’ve known him for so long I don’t think I knew anything before him, nothing that makes sense anymore, anyway. “Oh god, I love you.”
He grunts on the final forge inwards, his mouth smothering the last of the words until there’s nothing left but the two of us balanced in this fog, barely conscious to any known reality and continuing to linger in this experience with no desire to leave it.
That’s all there is now—her, him, and some small part of me clinging onto them in the hope that I might survive whatever this has become.