Unforgiven(40)

His fingers unclasp my bra and he pushes it forward down my arms. “Turn around,” he says as he guides me by the shoulders. My arms instinctively wrap around my waist, hiding the sagging skin and my small breasts.
“Don’t do that,” he instructs as he pulls my hands down so they rest at my sides. “You’re beautiful—all of you,” he says, his eyes inspecting me from head to foot. “Lie down.” I step backwards slowly until the backs of my legs hit the soft down comforter of my bed. I hesitate momentarily before sitting down on the edge of the bed and sliding myself to the center. The bed sinks as Jonah lies down next to me. There is a moment where I have a fleeting thought of stopping this, telling him to leave, but I don’t—I welcome his touch, even though I hate myself for wanting it.
“Touch me,” I whisper and close my eyes. He accepts my invitation and presses himself up against me. He runs his hand from my stomach up to my breasts, squeezing each one gently. He’s slow and methodical in his exploration. He traces my collarbone, which sends a shiver down my spine, and lightly traces small circles down my belly to the top of my panties, the only thing I’m left wearing.
“I love the way you look in red lace,” he whispers against my stomach as he runs his tongue across my skin, kissing my bellybutton.
His fingers hook the top of the panties and I raise my hips as he tugs them down my legs, throwing them on the floor behind him. He rubs each of my legs starting at my ankle working his way up. My body trembles at his touch, a combination of fear and shame.
“Relax,” he says, pressing his mouth against my inner thigh and kissing it delicately. He holds me firmly in place. The wetness from his tongue mixed with the cool air spreads goose bumps across my skin. His mouth moves higher from my thigh upwards. I gasp when I feel his warm body hovering over me… my body aching with need, with want… with guilt.#p#分页标题#e#
His firm hands press my thighs apart and hold me captive as I hold my breath waiting—wanting. “Jesus, you’re beautiful, Lindsay,” he says just before his tongue slides into me. I gasp at the sudden, yet welcome intrusion. My body deceives me when it reacts to Jonah’s touch, flooding me with warmth. I lie open, vulnerable—aching—and Jonah is fulfilling a need I only want Matt to fulfill. I close my eyes and swallow back the disgust I have for myself.
“Lindsay,” I hear him say my name as I breathe deeply, the effects of the Oxy finally taking hold. Jonah kisses his way up my body from my stomach to my neck. His breathing is ragged—heavy. “Condom,” he mumbles as he presses kisses to my neck and jawline. I lie numbly as my body tumbles over the edge—an adulteration of pleasure and anguish swirled with anticipation. I’m truly fucked up, I think to myself.
“Lindsay,” he says again, pressing more kisses to my neck. “We don’t have…”
“Drawer,” I respond. Jonah leans across me and slides the bedside drawer open, pulling out a condom. I hear the tear of the wrapper and feel the bed move as he prepares himself. I lie motionless, one arm pressed against my side, the other raised above my head. Jonah settles between my legs and holds my face in his hands.
“Look at me, Lindsay,” I hear his voice as I fall further away with the help of the pills. I find his beautiful brown eyes just as he slides into me with one gentle push. “Lindsay,” he says as he laces his hand in mine above my head and steadies himself with his other. His movements are slow, caring, and gentle and I hate myself for the conflicted feelings I have. My eyes fill with tears as I look away from him, my head falling to the side as I fade away and feel nothing at all.
 

 
I awake to the moon peeking through the sheer curtains of my room and the sound of the television on in the living room. My body is sore and my head is pounding—the repercussions of combining alcohol, Oxy, and another man’s touch—I hate myself.
I crawl out of bed and into the bathroom, where I hover over the toilet and dry heave. My stomach muscles cramp as I heave over and over and yet my body expels nothing. I should be used to this by now, but my body still insists on punishing me. Resting my head on the toilet seat, I breathe deeply as my stomach begins to calm. With just enough strength, I push myself up to a standing position and walk to the sink. The reflection in the mirror disgusts me as I wipe my nose with a tissue and toss it onto the bathroom counter.
I brush my teeth and run a comb through my long, stringy hair. Twisting it up into a makeshift bun, I secure a hair tie around it and turn on the shower. While the water warms, I find some aspirin and take four in hopes it will ease the pounding in my head and the ache that has settled throughout my body.