Page 4 of Love Sick
She commences cleaning down my chest and works her way to my stomach. I don’t work out, but thanks to running, I am lean yet muscled. Alanna’s gaze lingers on my body for far too long.
“Do it.”Luna’s voice permits me to commit what feels like a betrayal because I soon understand why Alanna looked over her shoulder—she doesn’t want Jonathan to see that she’s attracted to me.
A horrible thought suddenly turns my stomach.
The way Alanna dotes on the very-dead-as-a-doornail-Jonathan as if he were alive, I wonder if she does all the things they would do if he were alive. This entire thing just gets more fucked up by the second.
“Don’t be shy, Alanna. You’ve seen it all.”
She bites her bottom lip, clearly grappling with her morals. But in the end, the need for warm human skin wins out. She shifts the sheet, and when I’m exposed, her eyes widen. She likes what she sees.
At first, my sponge bath is purely professional, but professional isn’t going to get me the fuck out of here.
“Do I make you nervous?”
Alanna shakes her head, but she’s full of shit.
“I think you’re lying,” I counter smoothly. “How long has it been since you’ve been fucked, Alanna?”
The sponge drops into my lap, and a gasp escapes her. “I don’t feel comfortable discussing that with you.”
“I think we passed the line of comfortable a few chapters ago. Tell me.”
When she reaches for the sponge, I quash down the urge to grip her throat and not let go, but grasp her wrist instead. Panic overcomes her as she tries to break free, but I make my intentions clear when I place her hand over my dick.
“I think it’s been a very long time.” I relax my grip but don’t let her go. “A shame that. A beautiful woman like you has needs, needs which should be met.”
“Dutch, no—” But her plea is weak.
Forgive me, Luna…
With eyes locked, I encourage Alanna to wrap her fingers around my shaft. My hand is still on hers. I don’t move, however. If she wanted to break free, she could, but that’s not what she wants. She makes clear what she wants when she begins to slowly pump my cock.
The fact that I hate Alanna more than I’ve ever hated anyone before leaves me with a limp dick, and no matter what she does, I would never be aroused by her. I’d rather cut off my dick and eat it. So I have to pretend she’s someone else, someone who gets me hard just by hearing her name.
I can’t close my eyes as Alanna will know I am visualizing someone other than her. To play music, I didn’t just feel the music, I saw it. It’s hard to explain, but I became an almost extension of the music. I was the notes. I was the melody. I was in everything I played.
So I decide to do the same with Alanna.
I focus on her face. The way her blonde hair flutters against her long neck as it catches the breeze from the fan. Her lips are a glossy pink. I see the hint of red beneath her fitted white shirt from the bra she wears.
I see Alanna and feel her touch in a way that feels good because I then think about Luna’s hands and mouth on me. How she always fit perfectly in my life and in my arms.
I remember the first time I was lost inside of her. Jesus, she felt like heaven. I would happily die a thousand deaths just to feel that again. The stench of lavender is soon replaced with keynotes of vanilla and strawberries—Luna’s unique fragrance.
And it’s also the way she tastes when we kiss and when I’m buried between her legs. The noises she made when she exploded on my tongue punch me in the guts, and I begin moving my hips because my cock is rock hard.
Loving Luna isn’t voluntary. It’s ingrained in me. In this lifetime, you’re lucky if you meet one human being you connect with so deeply that without that person, you can barely breathe, but I met her, and I will never let her go.
I will do anything I must to find her, and if that means fucking the antichrist, then send my soul to hell because I will do anything for the woman I love.
“Oh my god,” Alanna whimpers, her strokes gaining speed and confidence. “You’re so hard.”
Her comment cements what I know to be true—I’m hard in comparison to the corpse she’s fucking.
But that horror is quickly replaced with Luna’s beautiful smile, her melodious laugh. Alanna’s face flickers in and out of picture, like an old TV finding a station, and with that comes the white noise.
It resonates loudly, so loudly that the repetitious pattern transforms into music…