Page 34 of Sparks of Insanity
Her bottom lip trembled as she hesitantly lowered her arms, baring those gorgeous tits again, covered by the most innocent white scraps of fabric. A tingle of conscience taunted me at the sight, but once more my body won over my mind, and I leaned forward with a growl, to manhandle her out of that bra and toss it over my head.Finally.
Her breasts were bared to me, pert and beautiful, with the palest skin, and soft pink nipples. Nipples that beaded in the coolness of the room, even though I now felt like the heating was on full. I lifted off my own upper clothes, a jacket, jumper, and t-shirt, baring my own chest to her.
I watched as her eyes dipped, her mouth falling open as she absorbed the situation we were in. Both of us were half naked. On a bed. And we were about to fuck.
I kept my eyes on hers as I pushed Em back on the bed, and slid my hands over those pert breasts of hers, her breath catching in her throat as she flinched at the sensation of my skin against hers.
“Em? Am I the first to touch these? Am I the only man to touch these sweet tits of yours?”
A ragged sob tore from her throat, and I felt clarity burning its way through my brain at last. I looked at what I was doing, how I had a vulnerable girl pinned to a bed beneath me, with me half dressed, and her topless, with my hands on her fucking tits.
What the hell was I doing? With a roar of horror, I shoved away from the bed, staggering backward, and ran from the room.
20
Ember
He stopped. He almostpushed me too far, but then he stopped, only I had no idea what had stopped him, or what was going through his mind as he ran from me.
I grabbed the thin top cover from the bed and wrapped it around me, waiting for the panicked shivering to stop, while I tried to get it straight in my head. He’d been seconds away from raping me. I was certain that had been his plan, and he’d been so intent on having what he kept saying he’d tried not to take.
Had he wanted me that much? Had it been more than just a little attraction on his part? Was this just how men were? Was sex the only priority for them? I mean, my parents were probably a bad example, because I knew there was a lot of sex, ugh, way too much, and not something I ever wanted to think about, but there was love. Real, true love. Real caring and support.
Mum had two men who worshipped her, and the ground she walked on. And they were that way with each other too. Sure there was the occasional dispute, or argument, and sure they enjoyed winding each other up, but that was just another part of what made them happy, and kept them together.
I had no idea what actually made Ethan tick, or what his feelings were, but he was struggling, and he needed my help. Was I actually planning to seek out the man who tried to force himself on me, so I could comfort him? Yes, becausehe stopped. Something in him realised I wasn’t ready for that, or that I didn’t want it that way, and he stopped.
I got up, crossing the room, and stopped in the hallway to listen. There was noise coming from the room next to this one, but it sounded like someone sobbing like their heart was breaking, like they’d lost… oh god… everything. This is what it sounds like when a person reaches rock bottom. And I was the rock that dropped on top of him, and broke everything on the way down.
I pushed open the door, spotting him instantly. He was sitting with his back to the small bed in this room, and his face was buried in his hands, which rested on his folded knees. I hated to see him in such pain.
I’d never seen a man cry before, and there was something so gutwrenchingly heartbreaking about it, that I felt my own tears burning my eyes again. He was in so much pain, and anguish.
I stepped closer and he froze, his body tensing up, before he dragged the back of his arm across his eyes.
“Don’t come in here,” he rasped at me, keeping his head low, so he couldn’t actually look at me.
“Ethan, I can’t bear to hear you suffering like this.”
Was that a bitter laugh, or another sob, or something in between? He clenched both fists, letting his legs slide down flat, but he still wouldn’t look at me. I dropped down a few feet awayfrom him, about a few inches from his legs, and tucked the bed cover around me.
“I just said-”
“I know, but you need me. What can I do, Ethan? I want to help.”
He made that sound again, finally lifting his eyes, which were reddened and wet, sitting above pink tear streaked cheeks.
“You can’t help me, don’t you get it? I’m ruined. Broken. A monster.”
“You’re not, you’re-”
“Where’s your top, Em? Oh that’s right, torn apart by the man who just tried to rape you.Thisman. Fucking hell, I’m no kind of man at all. Who does something like that? Only a twisted psycho with no feelings, or no sense of right or wrong.” He wiped at his eyes again.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Em. So sorry. I can’t believe I just did that to you, and I hate myself for it.”
My earlier fear was forgotten, now that I could see how much his own actions had shocked and horrified him. He hadn’t meant to be so cruel or threatening before, and even though I knew it was a copout to say it, I was at fault for so much of it.
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Ethan. All of this happened to you because of me. You were a normal happy guy, and I took everything from you. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen, you know. All I wanted was to get to know you properly, and see if the fact that yours was the only touch that didn’t horrify me, might mean something for the future. Our future. We got on so well, didn’t we? It was comfortable. Companionable.”
