Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I lower myself to my knees in front of her as she steps out of them. It takes everything in me not to apply too much pressure as I run my blade up and down her legs, stopping at her hips to cut the sides of her panties until they fall away. Lifting her leg onto my shoulder, I lean forward and lick into her heat. Her moan fills the basement as her hands fall into my hair. She tastes like comfort and memories, unlocking the vault that I welded shut the day she left.
Every swipe of my tongue brings my past alive before my eyelids and sends a tsunami of emotions crashing around inside of me. I love her—I hate her. I miss her—I want her gone. I need her—I wish she never came back. Every thought has a negative opposite that leaves me so conflicted. Why does she have such a strong hold on me and why can’t I let her go?
“Tristan,” she moans. Her voice grounds me once again. I lick and suck as if her dripping pussy will reveal the answers her mouth won’t say. Juices slick my face as she quickly bucks her hips for more friction. I reach down and unbutton my jeans and free my cock, quickly stroking it in my hand. Cleo’s legs tremble as a strained moan leaves her lips, her hands pulling my hair so tight that pain blooms across my scalp as she comes.
I know she is close, and I know just wants going to bring her over the edge. I grin against her folds before I pull away enough to bring the handle of the knife to her cunt. “Spread your legs a little more so I don’t accidentally cut you,” I order.
She spreads her legs, looking down at me with hungry eyes as I shove the handle of the knife into her wet pussy. Her head falls back with a groan as I shove the handle deeper into her, holding onto the blade carefully as I fuck her with the knife.
A moment later, she gushes all over me. Coming apart while the knife is deep inside of her.
I don’t even give her time to regroup, pulling her to the floor. She doesn’t fight against me as I settle between her legs. Her back arches off the floor when I ease into her, and her nails dig into my triceps. I focus on the bite of pain from her nails instead of the other emotions inside of me, the ones that make me want to cut my heart open and bleed for her when I know she’ll leave the first chance she gets. I drown out my want and desire for her with every rough stroke I put inside of her. I suffocate my hopes about her choosing me and Talon, despite her having a track record of abandoning us.
Sitting up on my knees, I grab the knife from the floor and press it to her throat as I move within her. “We would’ve given you everything if you’d have trusted us,” I say between gritted teeth. “We fucking loved you, and you left.”
“I-I’m s-s-orry!” she stammers through broken words, weaved through a string of moans.
My chest tightens at everything that could’ve been. At all the missed opportunities. At the lost time. Now that she’s back, it’s opened the floodgates to all the things I pushed behind a wall long ago. And as we both come, holding onto each other for dear life, I can’t help but wonder how long it’ll take for her to shatter us and leave the shards for us to clean up when she moves on.
Again.
CLEO
It takes me a few moments to remember where I am when I wake up the next morning. I sit up in bed and take in the unfamiliar surroundings, realizing that I’m in the spare room Tristan set me up in. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t want me to sleep with him last night, but I can understand. He’s dealing with a lot of different emotions and probably can’t process them the way he needs to if I’m in his personal space.
I take a quick shower in the ensuite bathroom and get dressed. The house is quiet for the most part, except there’s faint grunting coming from the back of the house. I follow the sound until it gets louder and stumble upon their home gym. He’s sitting on a bench doing biceps curls, and I can’t do anything but stand in the doorway and watch him.
His words from last night replay in my mind. Guilt crushed me when I heard the pain in his voice, pain that I’d put there. I never imagined my absence would have affected them as much as it has. I figured they’d eventually forget about me, as they had a life before I even came into the picture. But after learning about the knife he had on the wall with my name on it, I now realize I meant a lot more than I originally thought.