Page 59 of Between Now and Always

“I know the way I feel is wrong…but, Beth…baby, my heart fuckingbeatsfor you. I fuckingbreathefor you. My eyes look for you everywhere I go. I thought time would make it better.”

Her hand skims her breast, her thumb pressing in on one of her peaked nipples before moving down her torso and coming to rest on her now spread thighs.

Her tongue moves over her plump bottom lip.

I stroke myself, unable to stop now that I’ve started especially when I can see that she wants the same thing.

“Now I know, nothing will ever make me feel better. Those words you’ve written on your ribs, the same ones are painted on my heart. This feeling is for always.”

She blinks and a single tear runs down her cheek and her throat works hard. But she’s not crying. And her eyes are darkened and hooded by lust.

I know I should stop, but then her thighs fall apart, and her hips tilt up and I know there’s no stopping this.

“Are you wet?” I ask her what I already know.

She nods.

“Say it,” I demand in a low whisper.

“Yes. Very.”

“Touch yourself,” I urge, the devil in me taking over.

Her eyes dart to the hall where my mother and Joe disappeared.

“No one’s coming, do it,” I reassure her.

“Okay,” she whispers. Her chest heaves with a huge inhale before she closes her eyes and slides a hand under her skirt.

I almost come when her arm starts to move.

“Carter,” Her sobbed moan is a command and my hands itch to obey.

Her head falls back, exposing the long column of her exquisite neck, that birth mark right in the center of it is calling my name.

I burn with jealousy at the hand that’s stroking the cunt that was once my salvation. Now, to touch it myself, would spell my ruin.

“Have you fucked anyone else?” My voice is snarl.

“No.” Her moan is quiet but fierce.

“Don’t you want to know if I have?” I ask her eyes fly open, the blue blazing hot and fierce.

“I don’t care. Stop talking,” she says through clenched teeth. And even in my agony, I can’t suppress my chuckle.

Her hand is moving furiously, her breaths coming quicker. Mere seconds later, her knees snap together and her back arches off the couch.

Her face contorts in a wondrous exhibition of the pleasure she’s found and it sends me over the edge.

I come in my pants like a schoolboy. But there’s nothing juvenile about the blistering ecstasy that renders me blind for the seconds it takes to run its course.

I open my eyes to find her laying back, eyes closed, face flushed.

The expression she’s wearing is one I know well.

And this is the last time I’ll ever do it again.

I thought I was equipped for this.

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