Page 57 of Euphoria

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Rolling onto his back, he grasped my waist and moved me astride his magnificent body, then impaled me once more. Sliding up and down his length, I followed the guidance his hands provided, his fingers biting into my hips as he thrust into me from below.

Raising his back off the mattress, he sat tall, holding me close as I writhed, his lips sucking at my breast and his teeth biting at my nipples. I could hardly hold onto my pleasure as his body took mine on every front, our limbs tangled around one another.

As if he sensed my body was on the precipice, he flipped me onto my back as if I weighed nothing at all, and thrust deep, pounding into my body relentlessly. All at once, I let go, and my body screamed in pleasure under his rough ministrations. My passion grasped his with greedy hands and tore his release from his body, his seed spilling into me again and again, his deep moans of satisfaction mingling with my own.

We lay together for a moment, his length still deep within me, our chests heaving with exertion, the air thick with the scent of what we’d just shared.

When he took his body from mine, I felt his absence keenly and wanted nothing more than for him to return. From behind, or above, or from wherever he desired, I did not care.

“You must go,” he said abruptly, signaling his rough and quick touch had been enough. Certainly, we’d both come as we’d desired, but…in this, I didn’t think he’d be so changeful.

Edward glared up at the ceiling as if he heard a noise or a demon that commanded him to cut me loose. He didn’t speak or glance at me. I’d been thoroughly dismissed.

I hesitated, but only slightly, then I turned from him, looking for my discarded clothing, my entire being confused. He’d made love to me so completely, and not a minute after he’d spilled inside me, I was commanded to leave.

What had happened?

I felt every parting keenly, as if a strip had been torn from my very soul, and for him to dismiss me so easily, it had me reeling. I felt dizzy as I dressed, my stomach rolling and my heart twisting.

What kind of pain was this? The morose realization that I was now suffering a broken heart. For it was true, wasn’t it? If this twisted feeling of sickness was love, as I suspected it to be, then I did not want it. There was no other explanation for my sudden change, especially knowing we had been clear on the parameters of our relationship. I was a secret, simply one of many in his life.

I should have expected to crawl back to my own bed, a shadow in the darkness of Thornfield, and not remain by his side. This house and its master were cursed. I was sure of it.

I didn’t acknowledge him as I slipped on my clothes. I didn’t utter a word as I donned my boots and moved away. I didn’t bid him goodnight as I closed the door behind me. A single sound didn’t pass my lips as I took my leave, my body aching in the afterglow of what we’d just done. As my heart ached, so did my body, and it was hollow.

I no longer felt like a person. I felt like a thing to be used and twisted, for what good could come of loving when it wasn’t returned?