Her hair’s fanned on the white pillow that captures the tears falling, her eyes closed off and forced open when I grunt and move my hand. It captures a handful of hair and pulls, but she doesn’t wince, only watches me. She knows I’m angry and I’m sure she knows why. She has to but I’m not stopping.
Beat motherfucker. Beat now. Breathe now.
Madison moans and her chest rises off the bed, a soft scream falls from cherry red soaked lips that know mine as I rock against her, searching for need. She claws at my skin, breaking me, ripping me open with her force. I feel her everywhere that it’s overwhelming and consuming. She’s like a forbidden fruit. A death sentence.
How can she do this? Why? Why me?
I blink, it’s slow. My glare is so dark she shivers. I don’t hold back. I can’t. Not anymore.
She knows what this is so I fuck her like she wants. Like she expects me to. I don’t stop either. Even when she tells me it’s too much. I don’t stop because deep down, she fucking wants it.
“Feel what I feel.” I whisper harshly, moving my mouth to hers. I take her breath and break her soul. “Fucking feel it… ”
Her body sobs, I shake, my body begs to release. I’m holding on, I’m lasting this time, anger is the only thing keeping me here, keeping me from finishing and being done with it. I should be done with it, I shouldn’t have started but I won’t fucking stop myself now.
My body breaks out in sweat, my hips slide against hers, rocking, shaking, consumed. Reaching down I take her right leg higher and angle myself inside her, our hips grinding against each other, deeper, letting her feel what I’m taking.
She screams out this time, her head thrown back so I can see her neck straining, her heart pounding, and I know Jenny’s awake now. I don’t give a fuck.
I.
Don’t.
Fucking.
Care.
This is me. This is what I’m left with. I’m the light and she’s the dark. Together we’re a hurricane destroying love in our path. She’s the wind, I’m the rain. She’s knocking over trees, I’m uprooting them.
Jenny turns on the bathroom light, I don’t stop.
See what this girl does to me. I want the world to see. I want the world to hurt like I do. Crack and bleed like I do. Die like I do.
They see me as strong, that king, that motherfucking saint who leads them. I’m none of that in the presence of Madison Thomas.
“Jesus, you two! I can hear you next door.” Jenny grumbles, still inside the bathroom but looking around the corner. “It’s three in the morning!”
She’s always fucking spying on us. I know she watches and this time, maybe I’ll give her something to see.
Maybe.
Slowly I turn my head, my eyes rake over Jenny’s body as she hides half inside the bathroom, half outside, all the while, I don’t stop from moving in and out of Madison.
It feels so fucking good and I’m not stopping.
But I do watch Jenny for a minute and her reaction to what I’m doing. I’m not sure what she sees in my eyes but she gasps, her hand raises to her mouth and she backs away inside the bathroom and closes the door.
Madison’s hand raises and brings my face back to hers. I can’t give her my kiss. She doesn’t deserve that from me right now. She takes too much already.
We stare. We shatter. We’ve been destroyed.
That’s it. Take it. Take what you want from me because you know there’s nothing left.
My eyes squeeze shut and I know she sees the pain, it’s falling from me and landing on her heart where I’m no longer held, a wetness that doesn’t dry, a river that flows to nowhere, an ocean that breathes and crashes, a sea that storms and sinks ships. She turns her head, she doesn’t want to see the pain she caused.
She wants my pain.
She wants me to fuck her, take her body in the ways I want, the only ways she gives me.
I do. I fuck her harder than ever before. It’s enough that I know she’ll have bruises—and for a moment—I don’t care.
I want her to feel what I’m feeling.
For once.
Forever.
I can hear the rain hitting the window above her bed and it almost makes me smile that while it’s storming outside, it’s storming in here, the darkest ways.
When I come, I fall against her chest, my body shaking with sobs that aren’t just from pleasure. They’re from the pain of knowing that beat’s gone. Tears soak her neck, bathe her skin in acid as she cries too. My hands curl around the back of her shoulders, slamming her into my last thrust. It’s the last light of day crumbling, a backseat promise destroyed, freedom and innocence ruined by choices she made.
I’m panting as I pull away. I don’t look at her, I can’t. My left hand reaches between us removing the condom. I toss it in the trash next to her bed and lean to the side to get my jeans up around my waist. My chest heaves with labored breaths as I reach for my t-shirt beside me. Sitting up on my knees I look down at her, my jersey pushed up around her breasts, her legs spread open, her forearm over her face. She’s crying. She’s sobbing so bad her body is curled up, the muscles in her stomach clenching.