If Oleander were to attempt to describe her reaction to Trent she would probably use the term “Pavlovian.”. Because that is what it feels like, a conditioned response that she not in control of, only she doesn’t know what could have conditioned it. She doesn’t want to admit to herself that she grew up always a little bit in love with Trent even after all that happened. She refuses to let herself think about the times she touched herself at night and wondered if Trent was watching. The whole situation reminds her of the time Valerie wrote “Pavlove” on the school’s white board during psych class, everyone snickered at her spelling error but Oleander had found it very fitting.
Pavlove, Pavlov, like loving so much it made you salivate like some disgusting and pitiful dog. Oleander wanted to hate Trent for making her feel all the things that Ian never quite evoked from her, but instead of wasting her time and emotions on halfhearted resentments that in reality would have been all for show and peace of mind she just leans forward and presses her lips against Trent’s mouth.
She could feel him smirking against her as he stood from his kneeling position, Oleander had trouble being aware of her surroundings while Trent was pressed against her so it barely even registered with her that they were both standing. She pressed her hands against his firm chest and she started to push him backwards towards her bed. She made sure to keep her steps in time with his so that he wouldn’t mistakenly think that she was pushing him away. The back of Trent’s knees hit the side of her bed, but he refused to fall backward. He sets a hand on her hip and gripped her tight. Her hand was still on his chest and he could not stop the errant thought that ran through his brain, “She’s searching for my heart.” At first he has a follow up thought that she won’t find it because he hasn’t got one, but he immediately shook that thought from his mind because he did in fact have one. His heart was beating inside of Oleander’s lovely chest.
He spun them around and she gasped, he used her surprise to his advantage and deepened the kiss as he lay her down onto her bed. They lay there kissing for a few minutes before she sat up slightly and began to remove his shirt. She ran her fingers down his bare chest and left her thumbs against the protruding V of his hipbones. She really looked at him, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his heaving chest, and she adored that he was reacting so severely to her. She basked in Trent’s desire for her.
Eventually she lifted her mouth to his again and slid her fingers from his hips to the buckle of his belt. She unclasped it easily and pulled it out of the belt loops quickly. She popped the button of his fly and then pulled the zipper down, she helped him slip out of his jeans. She was so consumed with her need to see and touch as much of him as possible that she did not even think about how he may have wanted to see her as well. She moved her dainty fingers to his black boxer shorts but he stopped her, he pressed his hips body against her and she lifted her hips up to add to the pressure of his bulge against her. He began to remove her shirt and trailed his fingertips lightly down her body. He kissed up her stomach like a rock skipping in water, her rib bones reminded him of ripples.
“I love you.” He whispered gently and Oleander could feel the breath from his words against her skin. It felt as though it was the weight of those words were reverberating across her skin. Oleander believed that every person in the world vibrated on a certain frequency, she believed that soul mates would have corresponding frequencies and sometimes when two people vibrated together it brought destruction and chaos, she figured it was why sometimes no matter what things just never worked out between people. Why certain relationships ended horribly and why there were certain people who always just grated on your nerves.
Oleander knew deep down inside of the marrow of her bones, that when Trent whispered that declaration with his forehead pressed against her skin and his lips pursed together in preparation to kiss her flesh that was taut with horripilation he forever altered the frequency in which she vibrated with. Oleander was certain that this was the moment that she could never come back from, that every other act she had committed in relation to Trent and random paled in the glory of this moment. Oleander was now different. Maybe that meant she had officially come of age, that she was a woman now, or maybe it meant that her humanity was forever tainted with the smudge of loving something as dark as the monstrous man who once dwelled beneath her bed but it truly did not matter to Oleander. She relished in the moment.
Replying with a breathily moaned, “I love you too.” and intertwining her fingers through his brown tendrils of wavy hair. Trent groaned at the words he had been so longing to hear and removed her panties. Oleander parted her legs further apart and gasped and arched her back when his lips made contact with her skin once more. She decided that the feelings he was causing in her body were what dying felt like and thought to herself, “Oh how lovely death must be. Perhaps one day I’ll be blessed enough to feel both in tandem.” She’s caught off guard by how poetic she felt that sounded, she begin to be disturbed by the fact that the darkness of her thoughts did not bother her, but then Trent angled his head slightly and she ceased to be able to think.
YOU ARE READING
The Patron Saint of Monsters
Teen FictionA girl falls in love with the monster under her bed.
