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But I was still too sensitive, and I was moaning every time my hand brushed the tip.
“Ah, fuck.”
Those words fell into another moan. And I couldn’t help that I needed more. My hand tightened again, each vivacious movement pulling my skin back and forth, exposing and hiding the tip of my cock, which I still imagined was in Catharina’s pretty mouth, her pink pouty lips creating the perfect suction. Her tongue dancing around my barbells and making everything tingle.
My balls bounced up and down as I fisted my cock harder. And then I couldn’t take anymore. I came all over my stomach, coating the already depressed little bear, giving him a real reason to feel desolate, and I moaned out her fucking name, again.
“Catharina...” And it came out too fucking loudly.
Catharina
My damn heart and all its issues beat fast. I listened to each skipped beat as the pounding echoed against my ear drums.
He had no idea I was here, on his bed, with my legs tightly closed together to ease the fluttering going on in my underwear. The sound of my name on his lips as he pleasured himself gave me butterflies.
The shower stopped making the noise that had me envisioning how Remi looked wet, water running down his hard body, those monotonal little bears soaked. I lost myself in the image. My mind was in some daydream where my eyes followed a drop of water down his V to his—
“What are you doing in here?” a voice asked, his tone so beautifully raspy, it was like a song—one that lured me out of my daydream.
“What?”
“You shouldn’t be here right now.” Remi stood with a towel wrapped low around his waist, down on that perfect V. His pink stitches—the color he’d requested when Doctor Rodregez pulled out the blue thread—stood out against tanned skin and dark tattoos. I dropped my gaze lower to the still-hard cock between his legs, and the size intimidated me, forcing my gaze lower again to the floor, where I watched his feet shift to his closet.
“What happened to movie night?” he wondered, collecting fresh clothing.
“I wasn’t feeling it,” I said loud enough for him to hear me if the distance between us didn’t allow him to see my lips.
He didn’t reply, and all I heard was another moan, probably caused by pleasure or pain, when the hem of his sweats snagged his penis. That sound left the closet, and then his body followed.
“I thought I’d just come to bed.”
“Sure.” He nodded, zipping up a hoodie. He had on the gray pants that matched.
“I just figured you’d want to see how it ended.”
“I’d rather be with you.” I examined his face, following each line, caused by annoyance from my very being here in his presence.
Was he mad because I’d watched a movie with his brother? He’s been out all day. Surely, he knew, being alone would have my mind wandering back to dangerous territories. Like to Rothbart’s or to that psych ward, where he had spent the whole fucking afternoon and evening without any questions or grievances from me. I had to spend time with Dec because it was only Declan, with his constant rambling about pointless shit, to keep me here in the present.
Remi couldn’t see that.
All Remi could see was a guilty conscience. His own. Because he was spending time with two different women of his own choice, I’d spent the last twenty-four hours with two different men because that was what was decided for me.
“What time did Kate leave?”
“When Ollie came back. He still seems a little stressed, but he was friendlier tonight. More than he was this morning.”
“Have you eaten?” he asked, squeezing some drops into his eye that he’d retrieved from a nearby table.
My head bobbed. “Yes, some kinda potato thing with salad. Woodrow made it. He put some in the refrigerator for you.”
Remi just nodded. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, bite your nose off to spite your face if that’s what you wanna do.” I had no idea where that saying came from, but I could hear it, a woman’s voice in my head, and it wasn’t mine.
“No biting. Just not hungry.”
“Are you mad at me?” It felt like he was, with his cold and aloof stance, the distance between us. “Because you brought me here yesterday with so many promises, and today, you can barely look at me.”
