Page 99 of Goldsin

Lost in bliss, my other hand latches around his, and I quicken his thrusts, squeezing at the building sensation.

Julian groans, and I remember about the blade, but I can’t stop. His dick twitches behind me, and I know he doesn’t want me to stop either. He’s as sick as me, in love with the pain. So I keep guiding his hand in fast thrusts. Our breathing becomes labored, filled with moans and growls.

“Remember this punishment.” He licks my earlobe.

My legs give in as the orgasm builds.

“Next time I tell you to do something, you’d better fucking obey.”

He tightens his arm around me and drives the knife faster. Harsher. Deeper, not caring that the blade’s tearing his skin.

My lips part, an ache spreading to my core. I’m on the brink of an orgasm when he suddenly stops, pulling the knife out of me and tossing it to the ground.

The steel clangs, bouncing, and I stare at it as it slides to the other side of the room, away from where it was about to make me scream with pleasure.

Julian brushes a lock of my hair to the side. “Didn’t think I’d let you come that easily, did you?”

He spins me around and presses my front harder intothe wall. Then I hear the metal clink of his belt buckle as he unfastens it.

I’m struggling in his grip, about to protest, when he slams into me and I see stars. A guttural cry escapes my lips.

“Fuck!” I scream.

My chest heaves as he pounds into me mercilessly. His hand grips my hips, and he pulls me against him every time he thrusts, guiding himself deeper.

My fingers claw at the wall, flakes of blue paint wedged between my fingernails. We’re destroying the picture-perfect family of mannequins, tainting them with our sick pleasure.

He tangles my hair in his fist and yanks my upper body against his chest. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.”

His words make me moan, but it’s his bloodied hand wrapping around my neck and constricting my airways that makes me pull him into a hungry kiss.

My core tightens as we swallow each other’s moans. His fingers push into the back of my hair, pulling me closer to him as something subtle yet undeniable shifts between us.

He turns me to face him and lifts me in his arms, pushing my back against the wall as I wrap my legs around him for more support, to have him closer. His thrusts become longer, deeper, more deliberate, as he savors every second of this moment.

Blue eyes pierce my soul as I lose myself in their white speckles. His pupils dilate, and I know he’s close when I feel the familiar pressure building within me too.

We rest our foreheads on one another’s. We aren’t kissing anymore, yet a warmth still spreads to my chest.

“So”—thrust—“fucking”—thrust—“beautiful.”

His voice fills with awe as a growl heaves out, matching the moan separating my lips.

Julian captures my lips again, and we both ride wave after wave of pleasure together, locked in each other’s embrace.

My body trembles a little, light blinding me as my body becomes weightless, and I cling desperately to him for support.

He’s still inside of me, his head resting on my shoulder as he gasps for air. His body cages me against the wall, preventing me from collapsing to the floor. I thread my fingers in his hair and realization hits me that I just had sex with Julian Harrow. With my former best friend.

What is he now? What are we now?

He carefully pulls out, and I feel empty. Like we were supposed to stay in each other’s arms. Like he just stabbed me in the chest and is now tugging the knife away.

When my feet are back on the ground, reality back in check, I wobble. My hands reach for the wall so I won’t make a fool of myself, but I don’t need the support, because his arms dart out and wrap me close to his chest.

“Didn’t realize I went so hard.” He speaks from the top of my head, chin resting on my hair, and I instantly close my eyes, wishing I could encapsulate the comfort he gives me.

My heart is made of steel because I was taught toguard it. But deep down I’m still that little girl who needed love. I’m still that little girl who wondered why her friends had a mother, but she didn’t. I’m still that little girl who dreamed of being held in someone’s arms.

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