Page 16 of A Sorrow of Truths
I should be harder, firmer. I should sling her out or make her cry, give her a better understanding of what we now are. Instead, I find myself labouring the thought.
Ignoring it.
“Interesting that you’re following me,” she says, as she turns onto the second floor.
I watch her legs sway, enjoying the taunt of her hips still bruised from me. “Don’t you think, Gray? Given that you’re not here for me. Never will be according to you. That must be an analysis you haven’t considered yet.” She stops and looks into one of the guest suites, and then carries on wandering again. “Not your colour.”
Her arms stretch above her head, shoulders rolling with each step, and then she heads right towards my room. A smile graces her face, a light chuckle following it. “Much better. Dark and ominous. Lonely. Poor, lonesome, Gray. What is it that you’re not telling me?”
The sight of her disappearing inside my room, of her hand sliding over the doorframe until her black nails follow her, makes me halt and check whatever thought is trying to overtake sense. Back down these stairs, that’s where I should go. Maybe I could wait her out, or throw her out forcibly. Nothing about either sentiment in my mind agrees with my dick.
I follow again, fully intent on making myself do the right thing, and find her laying on my bed, her chin in her hands and her heels kicked up behind her.
“How do you analyse this?" she murmurs, a sultry smile on her face. “Hmm? Want versus logic? Need versus rational contemplation?” I frown at that question and consider it, watching as her heels swing back and forth. “Is not far enough ever enough? I don’t think so. I wantallthe way. Down the rabbit hole. Down, down, down until there isn’t any further to go and lies turn to truths.”
My brow arches, wondering where she’s going to go with this. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“But you’re not telling me the truth either, are you?”
She rolls onto her back and stretches out, luxuriating in the sleek, grey sheets she’s happy to crumple and ruffle. “I carried the comforter for a while. Needed your smell all around me, your weight. And then there was fucking you out of me.”
Damned jealousy rears inside me. It burns through my veins, bringing visions I don’t want to imagine. Still, I keep my hands in my pockets, as her hand moves along her skin, and I watch as her legs widen and she inches her fingers inside her panties. “Couldn’t. Nothing was you. You’re the only one of you there is.” A low moan comes from her, as those same fingers sink inside something I’m now becoming desperate for. “Only you. Do you think that’s love? I’ve been analysing it.”
Both my brows raise. That wasn’t expected.
Her head twists to look at me, her low smile spreading further. “Why are you over there when you could be over here? On me. Inside me. I’d like that.”
Treacherously, my feet move before my head catches up with what the hell I’m doing. I snarl the movement away, unable to deny the torment of her, and sit on the chaise nearby to watch. No thoughts or considerations of intent. I’ll watch, process, and then make her leave.
My head props on my hand, elbow resting on the side of the woodwork.
“If you must fuck yourself on my bed, stop talking and get on with it.”
She giggles and turns her head again to look at the ceiling, a sigh falling from her lips as her hand begins swirling under her panties. “Dirty words, Mr Rothburg.”
“I have more.”
Her back arches, ripples of movement cascading over her skin as her fingers delve in deeper. “You always do. Are they true?”
Everything I’ve ever said to her is true.
My tongue licks over my lips as I remember the taste of her, the feel of the lace on my fingers. Her hair in my hands, her cunt tight around me. I ache for that again, have ached for it since I left her, and now she’s here and waiting for me on my bed.
The thought makes me tilt my gaze, as she purposefully moves backwards and hangs her head over the end of the bed. Her mouth’s open, as she pants through the turmoil she’s inflicting on herself, tempting me with thoughts of her throat. Soft black lines etch the skull in deeper on her skin, as if presenting hollows of hell. Death couldn’t be more of an adept proposition to think about. Relevant. Applicable given her significance to me.
The panties get moved, lowered and kicked off her legs, and then the bra gets discarded, tossed at me as if a gift. All that’s left is a writhing temptress, her skin on display for me and last time I was on her still unmistakeable all over her.
“Keep talking,” mutters out of me, as my hand lowers to my pants.
I want the words. All of them. All the dirt and grit and need for me out of her mouth and into the air around us. Petulant if needs be. As insolent as she feels necessary. I just want that voice whispering more, taunting more, and baiting more. Fuck knows why. I should be carrying her ass out of here, pushing her from my door.
She chuckles and rolls her head to face me again. “You’ll need to touch me for all that filth you’re after, Mr Rothburg,” she whispers, increasing her hand's speed. I glare at that, both annoyed and aroused because of it. “Anything you want. I’m not asking for chivalry. Only for truth.”
Another arch to her back, another drive of her hand, one more fucking moan and I’m standing and hauling her head where I want it without any more thought. She groans at the impact, legs curling up, as I twist her body towards me and keep that head hanging downwards.
The feeling of her skin under mine again is like wildfire raging through me. I lean and lick straight through her breasts and down to her cunt, biting the moment I get to it. A laugh rips out of her, another moan following it as soon as I start sucking on the prize. I can feel her hands working my belt, my dick springing free into her grasp. It’s rampant and angry because of her continued tease, and I grunt as I handle her harshly to get her how I want her.
One more tug to her thigh to widen it and I grab at my dick and ram it into her mouth. If she’s not talking, she’s going to do something else with it. It shunts in hard and fast, as my mouth smothers her cunt. Long strokes. All the way in and all the way out until I can sense her gagging around the intrusion.