Page 23 of The #2 Guy

“It wasn’t like that.”

“The hell it wasn’t.”

“Shut up! Just shut up you fucking hot as fuck Neanderthal! I did this for you!” she points her cradled arm. “Killed about a dozen men… FOR YOU!”

“It’s not enough compared to what I did for you! What I’ll need to do to keep you alive!” I roar, coming off the couch with my dick still at full mast.

She pushes back and in one quick motion, I lift my fastened arms, trapping her between my body. I hiss through my teeth as my bare dick meets the cold fabric of her shirt.

She uses her leg to sweep my ankle and we tumble back on the couch with her on top. Her fist beats against my chest. “I hate you. Fucking hate that I love you!”

“Finally, we’re getting somewhere. Let it go. Say everything… everything you’ve been keeping locked away.”

“I HATE THAT I LOST TWO YEARS OF MY LIFE! I hate my parents…. Hate that my body wants yours… I hate that I’ve become a killer.” Tears of pain; both emotional and physical rain down her face. I hiss as she rips her own clothes off, pushes me back until I’m laying down and spreads her legs kneeling on either side of my hips. The sweet heat of her rests on my cock. She moves, spreading her juices on me.

“Fuck me or kill me. You choose.”

“I’ve killed enough for one day.”

With that she rises, take the head of my cock and I stare mesmerized at the sight of myself disappearing into her as she sits down.

“Fuck you feel so good.” She closes her eyes.

“I hate you.”

She opens her eyes seeing all the bitter pain she caused me reflected back like a mirror. “I know. And I’m sorry. Because you’re my prisoner now and I’m never letting you go, John.”

She rotates her hips, as she lifts them up and down, gliding down my cock like a goddess.

“I don’t want this anymore.” I rasp, feeling my balls tighten and my spine tingle.

“You’ll never stop wanting this, John. I’m in your blood and you’re in mine.” She goes faster and faster. I can’t stop the heady rush of my come as I shout, lifting my hips up to thrust into her as wave after wave of my orgasm spurts into her cunt.

She collapses against my chest, drawing hearts with her index finger on my pecs.

“My whole body hurts.”

She moves getting off me. I’m cold without her warmth. She comes back with a knife, cutting me loose. I don’t move at first. I’m tired. Confused. Bitter and angry because underneath all my layers of pain; there’s still the love.

Ignoring her, I find a bathroom, turn on the shower as hot as my skin can stand and just stand under the water with a bowed head.

I hear her come in, but I don’t turn around.

“John,” her arms wrap around me, her head rests against my back. “You’re my world. I only fly with you. Please, don’t shut me out now.”

“I can’t stop loving you, but I can’t turn off the hurt, babe.”

“Then let me. Let me take it away. I’ll prove myself to you every day.” She comes around in front of me, still cradling her injured hand. Her wrist is triple in size. She kneels on the tiled shower floor, taking my hand. “Marry me, Johnny? Be my husband, my protector, my best friend? In return, I’ll be your Christine, the one you loved, grieved for, and thought you lost. I’ll be your everything if you just give me one more chance.”

I can’t help it. The corners of my mouth turn up. “I didn’t see that coming.”

She shrugs. “Our story deserves a unique ending. The princess saved her dark prince and proposed.”

I lift her in my arms, then sit on the shower bench with her cradled against my chest. “But do they still get to live happily ever after?”

“That depends…”

“On what?” My eyes are glued to her pouty lips.

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