Reciprocity
Page 27
“I’ll see you later,” Lila said as she gave me a kiss and headed down the hall.
Once they were out of sight, I headed down to my office. As soon as I entered, I slammed my head against the door. Was I forcing my desires for a family on Lila? Did she even want children, or was she placating me? There was the possibility that the trial on Monday was consuming her thoughts—perhaps that was why?
The answer was clear to that one. Her demeanor told me the stress of the trial was getting to her—hence the romp this morning. She was the one who called me to meet—an unusual occurrence.
I was hard.
Then again, I seemed to be hard all the time.
Fucking PTSD. It affected my mood, often in a bad way, and heightened my already high-demanding sexual needs. At its worst, I was an ass**le who needed his dick wrapped in warmth twenty-four-fucking-seven.
Our addictive dependence on each other wasn’t considered healthy, but it was what we needed to function. We craved each other to calm the storm within.
Getting off only gave me a moment of peace, but it was a moment.
I had to get it all out, because in the morning, I needed to be strong for Lila. The trial was starting, and my shit needed to take a back burner.
Staring at the TV, I palmed my c**k as thoughts of f**king her unconscious took hold. She wasn’t home. Her art class, or, as I liked to call it, separation-of-her-dependency-on-me class, was going on until eight.
Another f**king hour.
My c**k couldn’t wait that long. My balls ached and the head leaked, begging to explode. If I didn’t get myself in check, she was going to come home to something destroyed, and that would make her worry. Then she’d let me f**k her until I felt better.
The problem with that scenario was I’d feel worse because I knew what she was hiding below the surface.
She couldn’t hide from me.
The pain, the fear—it shook her to the core to an almost debilitating degree. Yet, she went on, putting on that damn face, telling me everything was all right when it f**king wasn’t. It was a left-over defense mechanism that I didn’t even think she realized she’d been doing for the past week.
My fist slammed down next to my side, and I yelled out a curse. Frustration didn’t even describe my situation.
I wanted to be selfish. I was dying to push my c**k into her mouth and f**k her face, her throat swallowing around me; to slam my c**k in her pu**y, making her cry out as I f**ked her hard, releasing all of my pent up rage and fear; to feel her tight ass constrict around me. I wanted to tie her to the bed and pound into her over and over until she came so many times she passed out. Make us both forget what was coming.
My tongue swiped across my lips, muscles flexing as my hand opened and closed on the couch cushion. Hips, toes, hands—all curling in need.
To taste, to take, to devour.
I flipped the front edge of my shirt over my head and pushed my shorts down enough to pull my c**k and balls out. The head was red and angry, my dick begging for Lila to make it all better. When was the last time I’d gotten off by my hand? It had been few and far between since I’d met her, so much so that my c**k was practically trained to come from Lila and Lila alone.
I moved my hand up my shaft and hissed as I hit the underside of the sensitive head, setting up a slow, teasing, steady pace. It wouldn’t take much to come.
I recalled some of our favorite escapades, one of my favorites coming to the forefront—the alleyway in Noblesville. The thrill of being seen, watching as my c**k claimed her pu**y…
I was lost on the edge of coming. Every muscle was so tight, statue-like as my fist flew up and down my cock. My mouth was open, eyes cloudy. I didn’t hear her come in, but she stood before me, fuzzy.
The realization she was watching was too much. With a strangled cry, I tipped my head back and tightened my grip on my c**k as the first pulsing shot from my balls exploded onto my stomach.
Everything was gone, quiet, except the ecstasy that filled me with each spurt that left my body. I pulled the last drops out and relaxed back into the couch, spent. My vision cleared, though my lids were still heavy as I tried to catch my breath.
Lila was still watching me. The beast was satiated, my muscles relaxed. I stared back at her. “Come here.” I beckoned her over, holding out my hand.
As she got closer, I reached up and cupped her face, guiding her lips down to mine. It was soft, and through her touch, I knew sex wasn’t what she needed.
I grabbed some tissue and wiped up the mess I’d made before pulling my t-shirt back down and tucking my c**k away. Once that was done, I tugged on her arm, positioning her over my lap, straddling me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, while her head rested in the crook of my neck. It felt so good to have her close, but I needed closer, and I held her as tight as I could, breathing her in. I released my grip and swept my hand up, then down her back.
“How was art class?”
She shrugged in my arms. “It was okay. I’m not very good, though, so I think when it’s up, I’ll stop. Maybe find something else.”
“Anything catch your eye?”
She hummed against my neck. “Not really. Maybe I’ll just take more swimming or dance classes, just so I can keep up with you.”
I kissed the side of her head. “You’ll be caught up in no time.”
She looked so down. “I really just miss being with you.”
“I know. Me, too. But, I also understand why Darren wants us to have separate activities, even though I hate it.”
She nodded. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
She heaved a sigh and sat back. The crushing anxiety that plagued her earlier in the day was gone, but what replaced it was almost as bad. It was like she was preparing for battle. Shutting herself down, closing in. The way her arms were held in tight and wrapped loosely around her waist told me everything.
I reached out and tilted her head up so I could look in her eyes. “Don’t shut me out, baby.” Tears started to pool in her eyes, and she wetted her lips before she looked down. “Hey, none of that. Look at me.” The sight of tears brimming made my chest clench. “I love you, Lila, and I’m here for you. I know tomorrow is going to be difficult, but you’re not alone anymore.”
Her body jerked in my arms before a whine clawed its way out of her chest and broke into a sob. The sound tore at me, shredded me to pieces. There was nothing I could do. I felt helpless, and I hated the feeling. I wanted to take away all her pain, but had no clue how.
Once they were out of sight, I headed down to my office. As soon as I entered, I slammed my head against the door. Was I forcing my desires for a family on Lila? Did she even want children, or was she placating me? There was the possibility that the trial on Monday was consuming her thoughts—perhaps that was why?
The answer was clear to that one. Her demeanor told me the stress of the trial was getting to her—hence the romp this morning. She was the one who called me to meet—an unusual occurrence.
I was hard.
Then again, I seemed to be hard all the time.
Fucking PTSD. It affected my mood, often in a bad way, and heightened my already high-demanding sexual needs. At its worst, I was an ass**le who needed his dick wrapped in warmth twenty-four-fucking-seven.
Our addictive dependence on each other wasn’t considered healthy, but it was what we needed to function. We craved each other to calm the storm within.
Getting off only gave me a moment of peace, but it was a moment.
I had to get it all out, because in the morning, I needed to be strong for Lila. The trial was starting, and my shit needed to take a back burner.
Staring at the TV, I palmed my c**k as thoughts of f**king her unconscious took hold. She wasn’t home. Her art class, or, as I liked to call it, separation-of-her-dependency-on-me class, was going on until eight.
Another f**king hour.
My c**k couldn’t wait that long. My balls ached and the head leaked, begging to explode. If I didn’t get myself in check, she was going to come home to something destroyed, and that would make her worry. Then she’d let me f**k her until I felt better.
The problem with that scenario was I’d feel worse because I knew what she was hiding below the surface.
She couldn’t hide from me.
The pain, the fear—it shook her to the core to an almost debilitating degree. Yet, she went on, putting on that damn face, telling me everything was all right when it f**king wasn’t. It was a left-over defense mechanism that I didn’t even think she realized she’d been doing for the past week.
My fist slammed down next to my side, and I yelled out a curse. Frustration didn’t even describe my situation.
I wanted to be selfish. I was dying to push my c**k into her mouth and f**k her face, her throat swallowing around me; to slam my c**k in her pu**y, making her cry out as I f**ked her hard, releasing all of my pent up rage and fear; to feel her tight ass constrict around me. I wanted to tie her to the bed and pound into her over and over until she came so many times she passed out. Make us both forget what was coming.
My tongue swiped across my lips, muscles flexing as my hand opened and closed on the couch cushion. Hips, toes, hands—all curling in need.
To taste, to take, to devour.
I flipped the front edge of my shirt over my head and pushed my shorts down enough to pull my c**k and balls out. The head was red and angry, my dick begging for Lila to make it all better. When was the last time I’d gotten off by my hand? It had been few and far between since I’d met her, so much so that my c**k was practically trained to come from Lila and Lila alone.
I moved my hand up my shaft and hissed as I hit the underside of the sensitive head, setting up a slow, teasing, steady pace. It wouldn’t take much to come.
I recalled some of our favorite escapades, one of my favorites coming to the forefront—the alleyway in Noblesville. The thrill of being seen, watching as my c**k claimed her pu**y…
I was lost on the edge of coming. Every muscle was so tight, statue-like as my fist flew up and down my cock. My mouth was open, eyes cloudy. I didn’t hear her come in, but she stood before me, fuzzy.
The realization she was watching was too much. With a strangled cry, I tipped my head back and tightened my grip on my c**k as the first pulsing shot from my balls exploded onto my stomach.
Everything was gone, quiet, except the ecstasy that filled me with each spurt that left my body. I pulled the last drops out and relaxed back into the couch, spent. My vision cleared, though my lids were still heavy as I tried to catch my breath.
Lila was still watching me. The beast was satiated, my muscles relaxed. I stared back at her. “Come here.” I beckoned her over, holding out my hand.
As she got closer, I reached up and cupped her face, guiding her lips down to mine. It was soft, and through her touch, I knew sex wasn’t what she needed.
I grabbed some tissue and wiped up the mess I’d made before pulling my t-shirt back down and tucking my c**k away. Once that was done, I tugged on her arm, positioning her over my lap, straddling me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, while her head rested in the crook of my neck. It felt so good to have her close, but I needed closer, and I held her as tight as I could, breathing her in. I released my grip and swept my hand up, then down her back.
“How was art class?”
She shrugged in my arms. “It was okay. I’m not very good, though, so I think when it’s up, I’ll stop. Maybe find something else.”
“Anything catch your eye?”
She hummed against my neck. “Not really. Maybe I’ll just take more swimming or dance classes, just so I can keep up with you.”
I kissed the side of her head. “You’ll be caught up in no time.”
She looked so down. “I really just miss being with you.”
“I know. Me, too. But, I also understand why Darren wants us to have separate activities, even though I hate it.”
She nodded. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
She heaved a sigh and sat back. The crushing anxiety that plagued her earlier in the day was gone, but what replaced it was almost as bad. It was like she was preparing for battle. Shutting herself down, closing in. The way her arms were held in tight and wrapped loosely around her waist told me everything.
I reached out and tilted her head up so I could look in her eyes. “Don’t shut me out, baby.” Tears started to pool in her eyes, and she wetted her lips before she looked down. “Hey, none of that. Look at me.” The sight of tears brimming made my chest clench. “I love you, Lila, and I’m here for you. I know tomorrow is going to be difficult, but you’re not alone anymore.”
Her body jerked in my arms before a whine clawed its way out of her chest and broke into a sob. The sound tore at me, shredded me to pieces. There was nothing I could do. I felt helpless, and I hated the feeling. I wanted to take away all her pain, but had no clue how.
