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A silver face, a silver knife
Cut the thread and let me go free
Let me sink, let me drown
Let me fade into the ground
Where I was meant to be.
I’d die in your place, but I’m already dead
inside
I crawl through life, pretending to live
held together with glue of bones and hearts
I fall through the cracks
It’s a lie, all a lie
Will you cry for me?
‘Losing Hope’ by Rafe Vestri
Chapter Ten
Rafe
One minute I’m getting ready to leave, and the next I’m sprawled on the bed, my hard edges rubbing against warm, soft woman. And my hard edges are many—not least of which is my leaking, aching dick.
Bending over me, she pulls down my zipper. Long dark lashes, soft lips, long shiny hair that brushes over her lush tits with perfect chocolate nipples…
Fucking overload. I need some twinge of pain, something to ground me. I curls my fingers into tight fists, pressing until my blunt nails dig into my palms.
Not enough. But it’s something, and I focus on the bright pinpricks of pain as she drags my jeans down my legs, as she works off my boots and socks and drops everything to the floor, leaving me in my black boxer briefs.
Her beauty, her scent, her luxurious curves, her exotic skin and liquid eyes might break me, but what I’m more afraid of is her gentleness, her generous heart. Her smile, her laugh.
I’m barely holding it together as it is. And I don’t want her to stop, don’t want her to move away.
She returns, a hand ghosting up my leg, until it reaches the ridge of my clothed erection. She lays her hand on top of it, and just from that slight weight I buck on the bed, the air leaving my lungs.
Fuck, fuck. My leg muscles are so tense they’re trembling.
I should stop her. I should leave, hit something, take off the edge somehow, but I can’t. I need her touch so much. Need her. Feels like without her hand on me, I’ll dissolve into nothing.
So when she lifts her hand away, I jerk and start to sit up, moving after her.
Only she’s dragging down my briefs, distracting me again. All I can do is lean back on my elbows to watch her. My cock springs free, and I swallow a groan when the Ampallagh piercing in the head of my cock catches on the fabric for one long moment. Another pinprick of pain, until she frees the material, and pulls the briefs down and off me.
“Oh God,” she breathes, and I open my eyes. Hadn’t realized I’d closed them.
She’s staring at my cock, wide-eyed. The piercings, I think, and struggle to sit up, certain I’ve freaked her out—but she licks her lips, her cheeks reddening.
Speechless, I watch as she crawls between my legs, breasts swaying. My whole body tightens, ready to explode at her sexiness. Her fingertips move over the silver bar and hoop, and I slam my fists into the mattress, not to grab her, flip her over and sink into her.
Not sure how much longer my control will last, though, when she’s running her fingers over my hard-on, when she’s right fucking here, naked and ready, the scent of her arousal flooding my senses.
