Asocial Existence | Eminem

17

"I love you so much..." He whispers, clinging onto my body with intense strength. Something tells me he's holding on for dear life, thinking that I'll leave him if he lets go of me. We just lie on my bed with each other.

"I love you too" I smile softly, though he can't see it. His head is on my chest, his arm wrapped around my waist. "So are we just going to lie like this all night?" I ask him, laughing softly before bringing a hand to his slightly out-grown hair.

"We don't have to... we can if you want but I don't want to..." I raise an eyebrow, watching him sit up slightly, my hand falling from him as he looks down at me. His hands go to either side of my head and his knee pushes my legs open slightly. "I wanna be in you Mall" he whispers to me before pressing kisses along my jaw.

His eyes stay closed as he works at giving me a hickey, bringing his gorgeous eyelashes together. How dare a man have better lashes than me? A woman?

His lips feel like some distorted form of heaven on my skin, making me moan lowly, tugging at his shirt.

I don't think I feel any particular thing towards sex. If it happens, it happens. I don't feel the need to have it, but I know Marshall is definitely one of those people. It feels good, don't get me wrong, but I'm cool with just having it once in a while.

He pulls his mouth off my skin, lifting his head slightly to look at me before asking, "You mind rolling onto your stomach for me baby?"

I have a few ideas of his plans, but I don't assume his intentions as I roll over, trying to look sexy about it but I don't know how that works. I turn back to look at him, watching him grin suggestively as he's positioned on his knees before grabbing my hips, pulling them up, and making my ass press against his crotch.

He brings his mouth to my ear, moaning lightly as he grinds against me. "How do you feel about taking it from behind Mall?" he asks me and I can just tell he's getting hard by the second. I bring a hand to my headboard as his hard-on grinds perfectly against me.

I don't know how he manages to be so good at this, but I won't ever ask nor deny him access to me. I don't know if sex can be better than what I have with him, it just seems too good already.

"fine..." I finally choke out, feeling his hand run from my stomach to my hips then the hem of my sweats.

"You're so sexy Mall, I don't see why you wear this shit, it's concealing all the good stuff" He murmurs with a slight chuckle. His fingers slowly pull back the fabric, along with my panties, teasingly sliding them down to my knees.

"MMMarsh..." I moan into the mattress as he takes his dick out, pressing it to my wet entrance. I didn't know my body could react so intensely to his touch, but it freaks me out.

"You're so fucking wet oh God Mallory... Who would be stupid enough to give you up?" He groans before slowly pushing inside of me. His whole body is pressed against mine, making him feel like part of me in a way. His warmth has had such an interesting impact on my psyche. I don't ever want him to leave.

"Never leave again Marshall" I command, not at all giving a hint that it's a request.

"I ain't going nowhere without you ever again Mall and I mean that shit" He moans, pushing in me fully before slowly thrusting in and out. He becomes a mess on top of me, groaning as I tighten around him.

In my opinion, I think he's just a bit too big for me, but he slides in and out perfectly. The feeling of him touching every part of me, hitting all the right spots, rubbing against the right areas. He brings me over the edge quickly, having not fucked me in months. I moan loudly, muffled by the mattress. He grabs my hair, lightly pulling my head up from the bed.

"I wanna hear you baby" he coaxes, making me simply whine at his words alone.

He pushes inside me one last time, harshly hitting the best spots.

"Fuck!" He groans, releasing inside me.

"Oh, God Marshall!" I cry, ashamed to say that the feeling of him tugging my head back actually feels good.

"Oh damn..." he mumbles, pulling out of me slowly and collapsing beside me.

***

"I know Dre knows people that'll get this in that fancy New York museum," he assures me, looking at it as I warm him up some tofu from earlier.

"Marshall... I don't think that's what I want..." I mutter to him, watching him turn around to give me a saddened expression.

"Mallory, this is fucking incredible, people need to see this thing!" He protests, walking over to me and placing his hands on the counter.

"Evangeline, that's what you'll go by. The mysterious artist who people have never heard about before!" He tries to persuade me with a childish smile.

I'm terrified of this possibility. If I do this, I'll have to take pictures with it, be there on opening night, and have an entire article on the fucking website attributed to what it means to me and how it was made... Maybe I'm overreacting about how bad this is, but it scares me nonetheless. Still, the Guggenheim is a fucking huge deal.

"It's a slim chance that Dre has connections to the people at Guggenheim..." I tell him, getting a smirk out of him.

"It's Dre, if he wants connections, he'll get them," he tells me with a grin, bringing a quick kiss to my lips before grabbing the bowl of tofu.

He notices that I still visually don't feel comfortable about this, giving me a sympathetic smile. "No one will know Mallory, only Evangeline. Evangeline will be famous, she's gonna make a change in the art world... I just know it" He urges, going over to the couch and grabbing the remote.

"Let's watch Pulp Fiction" he suggests, and I nod at him.

While I find the movie insanely overrated, I do enjoy how it comments on Nihilism and Totalitarianism. I think the only reason it got so popular is its difference from other movies during the period of release. Most have a softer, optimistic outlook, meanwhile, Pulp Fiction is much more dark and violent though intertwined with comedy.

"Alright, sounds good" I agree, hoping that watching the movie will take my mind off the sculpture situation.