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They are saying at school that you have left?! And you didn’t even tell me? So much for “loving me forever” and “doing anything for me”. I need you and you aren’t even here.
This is so childish Theo. One mistake and abandon me and run away from everything? This is why we could never be together. Absolutely pathetic, I made the right choice. How could I ever trust you when you are so unreasonable?
I am sorry, baby; I was hurting and lashed out. I miss you, please baby, call me.
Everything is going wrong Theo, and it’s all your fault. I needed you and you weren’t here. You left! Everything would have been fine if you weren’t so dramatic about everything. But no, you had to run off and have a tantrum and left me alone to pick up the pieces.
They go on and on, increasingly unhinged messages, alternating between rage and apologies, blaming me for destroying his life. Until the final message, received just after I checked my phone the other day.
I can see you have read my messages Theo. I will find you.
My stomach threatens to bring up everything I ate in retaliation for the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My body nearly vibrates with anxiety, but my actions are surprisingly calm as I silently hold down the power button until the screen goes black again.
Ever so carefully, as if it is a bomb about to explode, I gently place the phone in the back corner of the drawer it had been in earlier and softly shut it again.
Darius has lost his mind.I shake my hands as I make my way to the shower to turn on the water, my body switching to autopilot with my brain currently occupied with the overwhelming barrage of emotions smashing into me.Hebroke up withme,and I somehow ruinedhislife?
An almost overwhelming part of my brain is screaming at me to go back to the drawer and turn my phone back on. To call him and plead with him to forgive me. That I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to him, even if it means leaving the tavern here and going back to the University. To be his side piece while he marries Mathilde.
But then, the thought of doing that, actually debasing myself like that, enrages the other side of me. The new me.
The weak fae who cowered before everyone they disappointed died on Marieth’s kitchen table. I viciously scrub at my body while my thoughts chase themselves around in my head, leaving violent red marks on my skin.
The messages and calls, the nightmares about Darius and Marieth calling to me and chasing me in my dreams, my friendship with Roan and the life that I’m building here. It is all suddenly too loud and overwhelming in my head. Beneath the parade of misery is the gentle hum that maybe… maybe I should tell Tor or even Roan about the messages. Even Seldon.
But I shove the idea down into the deep, deep recesses of my mind. The thought of sharingthis… I can’t. They are just starting to see me as a real being again, not as some little victim. Rinsing the soap off my body, I slam the water off and dry myself like I can cleanse my spirit by removing the top layer of skin from my body.
My body keeps up its momentum, dragging me through getting on clean underwear and sliding in between the sheets of my bed, my calm and smooth movements at odds with my tumultuous, vibrating insides.
I flick off the lamp on the bedside cabinet, plunging the room into complete darkness, while my mind plays a revolving movie of every mistake I have ever made, every person I’ve ever hurt, its soundtrack and endless taunt of my failures and insecurities on an endless loop, while I pray for sleep.
Roan
The soft roundness ofan ass grinding itself into my morning wood is my first clue that I am not in my own bed. A happy little growl rumbles through me, while content, sleepy horniness drives my hips to grind back against the softness. Pleasure ricochets through my body, making my back arch and my toes curl.
A soft cry sounds out from next to me when my cock, fighting valiantly against the material of my boxers, slips between the crack of the two perfect globes, but in my hazy, sleepy pleasure I’m unable to open my eyes.
My body is wrapped around them, our legs tangled together. I can feel their toes stroking my calf, spurring me on, and my hips continue their rhythm, a sensual and slow movement, dragging my cock into their sheathed ass. My hand drifts down their smooth, bare skin, stroking teasingly across their belly.
A hand comes up to wrap itself around the back of my neck pulling me in closer, but they are too short and I nuzzle my nose into their hair, breathing deeply of them. Like a love spell, their sweet scent is overwhelming, flooding my senses and my alreadyleaking cock jerks hard between their cheeks, threatening to come already. Too soon.
I turn my head slightly, despite the resisting tug of their hand, burying my nose in the pillows beneath us, but it’s no use. He is all over them. He is everywhere. I nuzzle into the softness, breathing in the heady smell like an addict, because that’s what I am. I want to drown in it.
A loud groan vibrates through my chest and I drive my hips in harder, the fabric of both our underwear tugging painfully in constraint. Their hand shifts to tangle their fingers in my hair, loose from sleep, and they pull the strands almost violently, sending sharp pleasure down my spine right to my balls, and I again threaten to spill.
Once again, I bury my face in his hair, curling my body around him as far as I can without breaking the delicious, torturous connection of our hips, to brush my lips against any skin that I can reach, along the side of his face.
Not wanting to give him an inch of reprieve against the seductive onslaught, I slide my hand down further to cup his cock through the straining fabric of his briefs. His dripping head is poking out of the waistband, coating everything in his slick pre-cum.
My grasp is firm as I slip my hand underneath the taut fabric, giving him a long, slow stroke from root to tip. A soft, mewling whimper breaks the quiet of the room; the only other sounds are our desperate breaths and the slick, wet sound of my hand jerking his length. The hand in my hair tugs again, hard and rough, those delightful toes digging into my calf, pulling me in. I roll with the movement, tilting the angles of our hips so I am half on top of him.
It's awkward to hold myself up without completely crushing him or ceasing the drive of my hips, but I manage. My thrusts are erratic now, the pulsing need to come urging me relentlesslyon, matching the strokes of my hand around him. I can feel my orgasm building in my balls, high and tight against my body, but I shove it back, snarling ferally, thrusting hard enough to rock the bed, the telltale rhythmic banging joining the chorus of our lust.
Beneath me, I can hear his nonsensical cries, whimpers of pleasure, cursing and pleading, until I feel him swell, the base of his cock jerking with his blissful cries. His hips jerk erratically under me, humping into my hand, riding through his orgasm almost deliriously. I follow him over the cliff, spurting jet after jet of cum inside the confines of my boxers. I continue to ride him through my release, smearing my come soaked boxers all over his ass and back like a mark of ownership.
The primitive part of me likes that thought—mine.
It fits perfectly. I rub myself against him once more, dragging the wetness as far as I can. He doesn’t seem to care, rubbing himself back against me like a cat marking his scent, his murmuring sighs of pleasure sound like he is smiling. That is, until I remove my hand from his briefs, bringing my fingers, slick with his come, to his mouth. His complaints cease as quickly as they started when his tongue darts out to clean himself off my fingers.
