Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia - Страница 52
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Those waves. They keep pulling me down. And I need to break through. I must. But he made it all go away. He made me forget, even if it was just for a couple of hours. He made me forget, and I want to forget.
I must forget.
Scorching. The water falling down on my skin is burning me and it feels so very good. The pain is a sweet punishment for having tasted the deliciously forbidden.
Foamy soap covers me as I continue to scrub my body down, washing him away. I don’t want to, but I must. I cannot go to bed smelling like another man, smelling like the musky scent of Arsen’s cum, so I coat my body with jasmine scented soap over and over again. Ignoring the swollen redness in between my legs, the rug burn on my knees, the bruise growing on my left breast close to my nipple…I erase all traces of him off my body.
After I’m finished showering and patting myself dry, I apply lotion on my body and face and head to bed. My hair still damp from the shower wets my pillow as I lie down, pretending to be asleep before Ben comes to bed. I don’t know how I will face him, kiss his lips, taste him in my mouth, when all I want is to taste someone else. Rubbing my legs together and feeling the soreness in between them is a reminder that I should feel remorseful. And I do, I feel remorse, but I don’t think it will stop me from repeating what happened tonight. No. I want to be selfish. For the first time in a very long time, I was able to forget about the pain and the memories.
I lost myself in the sweet oblivion of Arsen’s body.
I felt alive.
I felt high in the freedom of walking away from my shitty life and pretending for a brief moment that I was just Catherine. A woman. A sensual woman who isn’t a failure.
When Arsen touched me, I didn’t feel a visceral reaction to his touch.
When he went deep inside me with each thrust of his hips, I didn’t feel like it was sex to get pregnant, I didn’t feel the lack of romance.
When he fucked my brains out on the carpeted floor for a second time, it didn’t feel like work or a task. It was pure raw passion, and I want more.
I crave more.
But can I go through with it again?
I don’t know.
The guilty tears have dried, my body is clean, and my conscience is garbage, so why am I so confused? The answer should be simple; walk away, come clean with Ben, apologize and hope that he has it in him to forgive and forget. The thing is, I’m ashamed, but I’m not sorry. I’m not. It’s funny, really. Thinking about the way he came inside me, on me, everywhere, makes me sick to my stomach, guilt twisting it so tightly. Yet, the memories make my heart flutter as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Control and restraint gone, being with him was pure bliss.
Sometimes not being in control, not being able to think, just losing yourself in the moment, is the greatest feeling in the world. It’s liberating. It’s addicting. It’s the most powerful high you’ll ever get. It’s a kind of freedom that tastes so sweet on your palate that you can’t help but want more each time you have it.
Ben joins me in bed not too long after, and I wish he hadn’t. It’s only when I feel his warm hand on my hip, when I’m lying next to my unsuspecting husband that the realization of what I’ve done finally sinks in. Massive revulsion roars inside me, making me nauseous. Dirty. I feel dirty.
I’m a cheater.
I’m scum.
I can’t stand his touch, so I turn away and lay on my side. With my back facing him, I can pretend that this is like every other night. I can lie to myself and ignore the remorse that festers inside me, not allowing me to fall asleep. But the minute I close my eyes, I realize what a big mistake it was as my mind begins to replay what happened back in Arsen’s apartment.
With a tight chest, I recall every single vivid detail...
Touch yourself.
I want to watch as you make yourself come.
Yes...rub those fingers on your clit.
Fuck.
Look at me when you do that.
Yes. Like that.
Imagine that my cock is inside your pussy as my fingers fuck that sweet ass of yours.
Can you feel it?
I watch him as he takes his dick in his hand and starts to pump it slowly.
Up and down...
Up and down…
I rub my clit faster as I watch him stroking himself.
Stop.
Fuck your pussy with your fingers.
Yes...Deeper. I want to watch them disappear inside you.
Take them out. Stand up. Come here.
Good girl. Now put them inside my mouth and pump my cock with your free hand.
Hissing, he grounds his erection against my hand as he whispers for me to do it harder.
I watch as he sucks my fingers. The way Arsen’s tongue slides across them. And I continue to watch him as he pulls them out of his mouth.
Yes.
Pull Harder...
Harder...
God, Dimples. I need you now.
Get on your hands and knees.
I am going to fuck that sweet pussy now.
Hard.
So fucking hard.
Yes, I’m on my knees feeling a man, who’s not my husband, inside me. I can feel the way his hands spread me open, wider so he can go in deeper, thrust deeper.
His fingers invade me.
Everywhere.
Feeling my body tremble, I even remember the way a groan torn out from his chest as he pulled out and came over my back, spreading himself on me.
Yes. I need to apologize to Ben for everything. I need to apologize for loving Arsen’s taste on my tongue because of the simple fact that it wasn’t his. I need to apologize because for the first time in a very long while I was able to orgasm without closing my eyes and picturing blue instead of brown. Because tonight, with eyes wide open, I climaxed as I got lost in a sea of blue.
Could he forgive me? I’m not sure I want him to. No. I do. I do. I love Ben. I love my Ben.
What have I done?
What have I done?
A restricting panic begins to rise inside me when I feel Ben’s stubbled chin tickle the back of my shoulder. With his nose buried in the curve of my neck, he inhales deeply, making my breath accelerate. When I’m about to turn around to let him know that I am awake, he wraps his arms around me.
“I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry for not being able to give you...but you are enough. You are more than enough for me. You’re my fucking world, babe. And I need you back. Please stop shutting me out, I can’t take it anymore.” He tightens his grip, bringing our bodies closer together as he continues to whisper fiercely in my ear, “Own me, fill me, break me, repair me, complete me. Do whatever you want to me. Just stay with me. I need you. I need to be able to live. I need my life back, I need you back.”
I die a slow death with every word he whispers in my ear. His words are like daggers to my heart. They cut me. They tear me open. His words destroy me.
Not knowing what to say, and feeling like shit, I continue to pretend I’m sleeping. After a few minutes, I hear Ben’s breathing deepen, letting me know that he’s finally asleep.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
I want to apologize.
I want to be alone.
I want to die.
I close my eyes tighter and make a promise with myself. I won’t go near Arsen ever again. I will not tell Ben because it was a one-time thing, and some things are better left unsaid.
And it will never happen again. It will not. I know it. We will get through this. It will be as if it never happened. My love for Ben will be enough.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
That is what I keep telling myself as I begin to fall asleep, but the last thing I remember is picturing brilliant aqua eyes staring down at me.
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