Staying In: Skylar's Story Part 3

Chapter 8- Aluino

I triple check the room, ensuring we have the ointments, towels, brushes, and everything else we might need. Seeing that the water level is at a decent height, I turn off the faucet and stick my hand in the water, only to pull it back immediately. Too damn hot but hopefully it'll be a better temperature when we get in. The mirror has steam at the top, so in a few minutes it'll fill with fog. Perfect. Can't have my perfect little bird getting cold, now can we?

Damn, I'm still a little out of it. I'm so fucking mad at myself. I fucking attacked her. It may not have been brutal or violent, but I can still see the pain and fear in her eyes. The damaging kind, not the fun kind.

I'd cut off my own hand if she told me to. The rage that consumed me when she said she hated 'this' was born of fear. The deep chasm of ugliness split my heart wide open, a seething black mass of despair and brokenness.

Should it be like this? One second, higher than the clouds, untouchable, only to be writhing in the worst kind of agony the next second?

No wonder poets love to write about love so much. The shit is wholly confusing.

I exit the washroom and close the door behind me. Then I pad around the bed and slide under the covers. The knot in my chest loosens as my flesh touches hers. How can someone so tiny handle so much?

Hansel takes up so much space that Skylar crowds my spot. I only have a sliver of mattress but find that I don't care. It just gives me more reason to cling to Skylar. Typically I don't sleep over five or six hours, so I don't expect to sleep anymore. We stayed up so late last night that there's sunlight seeping under the blackout curtains. I don't know what time we laid down, but the clock says 10:30. So our Saturday is off to a good start.

I already snuck into the kitchen and got some snacks and drinks. The house was well stocked, even before we brought extra to compensate for the many bodies we were bringing, so grabbing a serving tray and filling it with food wasn't a hardship.

Her scent is divine. I slide my arm down her abdomen, across her hip, then rub up her side, and rest it over both of their ribs. Hansel has a handful of her breast, and the contrast between her smooth skin and his hard knuckles on my chest is stark. I push closer anyway, tangling my legs with theirs and becoming part of her cocoon.

I doze a little more. Her hand caressing my shoulder wakes me up, and I blink down into sleepy eyes. "I need to pee again," she says.

I rub as much of her skin as I can as I raise my hand to her temple. I stroke her hair away from her face and bend down, pressing my lips to her hairline for a moment. This woman is too precious to describe, and shame sits heavy on my heart because of my actions last night. I pull back and sit up, untangling from the heap of limbs. She scoots away from Hansel, but his fist contracts around her breast. My cock, already stiff from her proximity and my normal morning wood, throbs in demand. Fuck, how that mound of flesh spills out around Hansel's massive hand is too enticing.

I swallow my desire down as best as I can and pinch the pressure point between Hansel's thumb and finger.

"Let her up. Just for a minute. She's gotta piss," I growl, my vocal cords groggy with sleep. After a grumble, extra squeeze, and mouthwatering jiggle, Hansel reluctantly lets go of her delectable tit. Her areola is ringed by a circular bruise, and I recall my mouth on that spot, sucking and pulling. We put ointment on it last night, but now I'm so worked up that all it makes me think of is sex. Hard, beautiful, life-altering sex.

Damn it.

I snap out of my lust-filled haze and swing my legs off the bed. I stand, turn, pick her up, and carry her to the toilet.