Break Me

10

Moving in with Trevor felt like a dream at first. We settled into comfortable routine, sharing chores and cooking dinner together. Our weekends were lazy yet adventurous; we explored the neighborhood, discovering new local bands and hidden gems.
Trevor had landed a new job at a trendy tattoo shop in Hartford. He had always loved the art of tattooing, and now he finally had the opportunity to immerse himself in it fully. I watched him transform as he stepped into this new role—his confidence blossoming, and the passion for his craft shining brightly in his eyes whenever he spoke about the designs he wanted to create.
"Look at this," he said one evening, pulling out his sketchbook with an eager grin. He flipped through the pages, revealing intricate designs that captured my imagination. "I've been working on some ideas for my clients."
The tattoos ranged from delicate floral patterns to bold, intricate pieces that seemed to tell stories all on their own. I admired his creativity and dedication, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride to be with someone so talented. "I love these!"
As the weeks passed by, I started to notice subtle changes in Trevor. At first, it was just a lingering glance at his phone or a half-hearted response to my questions. Then, it evolved into him retreating into himself after long shifts at the shop, spending more and more time lost in thought. I attributed these shifts to the stress of a new job, and I understood that he needed time to adjust.  I couldn't shake the feeling that Trevor was hiding something from me, and it only intensified whenever he mentioned Morgan. At first, I tried to brush it off, telling myself he was just making new friends at work. But as he talked about her—how talented she was, how wild and free-spirited—I felt a knot of jealousy twist in my stomach. What was so special about her?
One evening, as we sat in the living room, I took a deep breath, feeling the tension heavy in the air. "So, how's Morgan?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, but I could hear the edge creeping in.
He looked up, irritation flickering across his face. "She's good, why?"
I swallowed hard, my heart racing. "I don't know. It just seems like you've been spending a lot of time with her."
"It's not a big deal, Ellie," he shot back defensively, turning away.
"Not a big deal? You talk about her all the time! It's like she's your best friend or something." I couldn't help it; the bitterness seeped into my words.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Can we not do this right now?"
"Why not? Am I not allowed to feel concerned?" I pressed, feeling the frustration bubbling over.
"You're working late more often, and when you're home, it's like you're miles away. Is there something going on between you two?"
"Seriously? You think I'm cheating on you?" His voice rose defensively, and I could see his jaw tighten.
"I don't know what to think, Trevor! You act like you have feelings for her." I crossed my arms, feeling the anger and jealousy clash inside me.
He shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. "That's ridiculous. She's just a co-worker. I can't help it if she's talented and fun to be around."
"Fun to be around?" I echoed, my voice trembling.
"You're being paranoid," he snapped, frustration flaring. "I can't believe you're acting like this over some girl I work with."
"Maybe it's not just some girl! You never used to act like this. I just want you to be honest with me!" I could feel tears welling up, but I fought them back.
"Do you have feelings for her?"
He hesitated, his expression shifting. "No, Ellie, I don't. You're my girlfriend, not her."
"It doesn't feel like it," I said, my voice softening but still tinged with hurt.
He ran a hand over his face, clearly struggling with his words. "I'm just busy, okay? I'm trying to juggle everything, and it's stressful."
"Stressful enough to keep secrets from me?" I pressed. "I need to know where we stand."
"I'm not keeping secrets! You're making this a bigger deal than it is," he argued, his tone growing defensive again.
"Maybe because it *is* a big deal!" I shouted, the emotions boiling over. "I don't want to lose you to her."
He sighed, clearly frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair again. "I'm not going anywhere, Ellie. You're the one I want to be with."
"Then show me," I replied, my voice quieter now, filled with a mix of hope and desperation.
Trevor's eyes darkened further, and he pressed his hardening cock against my thigh. I whimpered, all of my thoughts fading away. All I could think about was how much I wanted him—needed him—right here, right now. On the kitchen counter, where our argument had started.
I reached between us, wrapping my hand around his thick cock through his pants. "Take me," I pleaded, grinding against his covered length. "Make me forget everything but you."
He groaned, his eyes half-lidded with lust. Without another word, he spun me around so my back was against the counter, and then he lifted me up, pushing my legs apart as he stepped between them. The cold, hard surface bit into the backs of my thighs as he ripped open my shirt, exposing breasts. Trevor's mouth latched onto one tight nipple, sucking hard as he undid the button on my jeans. I bucked my hips, eager for his touch, and moaned loudly when his fingers finally dipped into my soaked panties.
"You like that, Ellie?" he growled against my ear, his fingers teasing my clit before plunging two of them deep inside me.
"Yes!" I cried out, my head falling back as he finger-fucked me with purpose. "Don't stop."
Trevor chuckled darkly, his breath hot against my neck. "You're mine."
With that, he pulled his fingers from me and ripped my jeans and panties the rest of the way off, leaving me completely bare and wanting. I heard the jingle of his belt and the rustle of fabric as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants.
He lined himself up with my entrance, teasing me by rubbing the head of his cock up and down my soaking wet slit. "Please," I whimpered, my eyes screwed shut as I begged for him to fill me.
"Look at me, Ellie," he ordered, his voice like steel. "I want to see those beautiful eyes."
I opened my eyes, locking my gaze with his as he slowly, oh-so-slowly, sank into me. I arched my back, moaning loudly as he stretched me open, filling me up inch by delicious inch.
"That's it, Ellie," he growled, grasping my hips tightly as he began to move. "Take it all."
I cried out with each thrust, my body shaking as pleasure washed over me in waves. Trevor's cock felt so good inside of me, and the sensation of being taken on the kitchen counter added to the moment.
He picked up the pace, slamming into me harder and faster, making the counter shake with each powerful thrust. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, along with our moans and grunts of pleasure.
"You feel so fucking good, Ellie," he grunted, his eyes never leaving mine.
I locked my ankles behind his back as he pounded into me relentlessly. I was so close to the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasmic bliss."Trevor!" I cried, my fingers digging into his arms.
His eyes blazed with lust and something deeper—a fierce possessiveness that sent a shiver down my spine. "You are mine, Ellie. Always remember that. Mine."
His words sent me over the edge, and I cried out his name as my orgasm crashed over me. My walls clenched tightly around his cock, milking him as my juices flowed freely.
Trevor groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried himself deep inside me, filling me with his hot cum. "Ellie," he grunted, his body shuddering with release. "Take it all. Every last drop is for you."
We stayed like that for several moments, our breath coming in ragged gasps as we came down from the intensity of our orgasms. Trevor pulled out of me slowly, his cock making a lewd popping sound as it left my sensitive pussy.
He set me back down on my feet, and I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. Our tongues tangling in a lazy, post-coital dance.
"I love you, Trevor," I murmured against his lips, my anger and hurt from earlier a distant memory.
He kissed me back softly, his hands stroking up and down my spine. "I love you too, Ellie."
Each evening after our fight in the kitchen I would wait for him, perched on the edge of the couch, my heart racing as I replayed our last conversation in my mind. I desperately wanted to reach out, to hold him and remind him of the love we had built together, but the growing distance between us felt insurmountable.
One night, he came home particularly late, and as soon as he stepped through the door, I could see something was off. His eyes were glassy, and there was a heaviness in the way he moved, as though every step was a monumental effort.
"Hey," I said softly, trying to break the ice.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice flat.
"How was work?"
"Fine," he said, tossing his keys onto the counter and heading straight for the fridge.
"Trevor, please—can we talk?"
He paused, the fridge door still open, but he didn't turn to face me. "Do we have to?"
"Yes, we do," I insisted, fighting to keep my emotions in check.
After a long moment, he finally turned to me, his expression hardened. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I want to talk about you. About us. I feel like something's changed, and I don't know how to help you if you won't let me in."
Trevor closed the fridge door with a forceful snap. "I told you I'm fine, Ellie! Why can't you just fucking drop it?"
My heart dropped at his words, but I pressed on. "Because I can see you're not fine! You've been coming home late—sometimes I don't even know if you're coming home at all. I just want to know what's going on."
His expression flickered, a brief flash of something vulnerable before he masked it again. "You wouldn't understand."
I stepped closer to him. "Please, Trevor. I'm scared."
He looked away, his jaw clenched tight. "I...just need time to figure this out, okay?"
"Time? Time for what?"
"For everything!" he shouted, frustration boiling over. "For...all of it! I just need time!"
"Then let's figure it out together!"
He shook his head, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get it! I don't want to drag you down with me."
I felt my own frustration bubble up. "You're not dragging me down! I want to help you!"
Trevor stood there, his chest heaving as if he were fighting a storm raging inside. "I can't."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to face it," he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I feel like I'm losing control, and I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Of disappointing you," he said finally, his voice heavy with resignation.
"Trevor, you could never disappoint me," I said, my heart aching for him.
"What do you need me to do?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
"I need you to trust me," he said, his tone softening just a little.
"Trust you to do what?"
"To handle this in my own way," he replied, his eyes finally meeting mine.
"Okay," I said slowly, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation.
Trevor nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
That night, as we lay in bed, I wrapped my arms around him, trying to offer comfort while feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirl within me. I wanted to be strong for him, to support him as he navigated these dark waters, but the fear of losing him was a constant weight on my chest.