37 | Old Him

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MATURE CONTENT

PART ONE

   HIS lips no longer left tender kisses on my soft skin

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HIS lips no longer left tender kisses on my soft skin. They abandoned the habit of leaving sweet love bites. Rosy lips strayed from lovingly expressing how much he cared. Eric was back.

Rough hands caressed my entire body, but in a much different way. Their touch brought back memories of the days before, when everything about him was repulsive. I found myself shuddering at the subtle touch of his fingertips, fighting the urge of pleasure and disgust.

His body was now an ocean, pulling me in but also driving me away. It still held that enticing aspect, making me fantasize about touching every part of his lightly bronze body. But my hunger mostly came when he was gone, leaving me alone with my sensual thoughts.

Eric—rough and abusive—was back. That was the real Eric, for all I knew. His constant changes had fooled me, causing me to believe he was capable of loving. And it wasn't that he didn't love me but that he loved with brutality. That was Eric. He had gone back to the old him, fear being evermore present within me.

My legs were tangled around the satin sheets, draped over my body as well. They only covered certain parts of my body, leaving my back completely exposed. One of my arms fell over the pillow, my face hiding between the crook of my arm. But my hair also hid my face, hiding my swollen lips. Eric hadn't wasted the past month leaving me with a sore body, which only indicated how harshly and how many times he had taken me.

My skin was decorated with love bites that had been given rather forcefully. A frenzy of pleasure and despair had taken over each time, and I only fought over which was right. Pleasure always won, pleasing him more. Just how the constant moaning, crying, and screaming of his name encouraged him to take things further.

I only nuzzled my face against the pillow, exhaling slowly. My breathing slightly picked up as I took notice of the soreness in between my legs, which overtook other parts of my body. Then there was my chest, the most sensitive and fallen victim of Eric's ravenous lips and hands. Every part of me had been made his, and only his.

But when the slamming of a door was heard from the living room, I curled up, figuring he wasn't too happy. If he wasn't too happy and all bothered, his touch wouldn't be as gentle. That was how he took out his anger--by touching me, whether I wanted it or not. It was just so different from that night not so long ago.

FLASHBACK

Eric watched as I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel over my body. He only approached me when I hesitantly walked back and forth, debating whether I should ask if he would allow me to dry myself in private. Rough fingers brushed against my right shoulder, pushing back my wet hair. Then his lips softly kissed it, becoming wet from the light layer of water that still covered my skin.

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