Fingertips | ✓

two

Your lips were not like I imagined them to be. They were better.

At first the kiss was only a simple touch of our lips but then you breathed in deep and pushed your lips roughly against mine, reacting to the pulsating desire that began to run through both our bodies.

Your hand came up to my face, gently cupping one side of my face. Your soft hand palmed my cheek as you kissed me deep. The pleasure that ripped through me by just the touch of your lips sent me into a different place. I felt like I was existing in an alternate universe.

Your hand travelled from my cheek down to my neck. Your fingers tingled my skin, made chills run down my spine down to my very toes. It felt so good. It felt incredible. I felt like I was floating the longer you kissed me, the more you touched me.

I didn't know you could be this intoxicating.

Pulling away you looked at me, your eyes holding mine. I wanted to shut my eyes as your fingers brushed against my collarbone. An involuntary shudder ran down my spine. I could not look away from your entrancing gaze. Your eyes had a fierce spark to it, a hint of mischief and danger, that made it impossible to look away from you.

Your teasing fingers played a dangerous game dancing over my skin in a tantalising motion. The dance of your fingers came to a halt as you flattened your hand against my throat and wrapped your thin fingers around it. The pressure of your fingers against my throat increased as your hand gripped my throat harder and a gasp left my lips from the sudden aggressiveness. I didn't like the way you were gripping my throat this roughly but I did not complain.

It was okay. Your lips were on mine and that was all that mattered.

You drew away again, your livid eyes dropping from my face to my cleavage.

You were drunk. You weren't in the right mind. I knew that. But as you brought your mouth down to mine again I could not stop you. I did not want to stop you. Your mouth felt extraordinarily wonderful against mine, and even more extraordinarily wonderful against my skin as your mouth travelled down my body. I could have died from a blissful euphoria right in your arms.

You told me that you liked it when your girls demonstrated a little control and I wanted to show you that I could be just like your other girls, that I could be just as passionate as they were. In fact, no one was passionate as I was for you.

All the angst and burning desire I had built up after all this time finally accumulated to something. I pushed my lips against yours before I bit down on your bottom lip. You grinned against my lips and let me take the lead as I got up onto my knees and swung my legs over you. I straddled you as you pried my lips open easily, your tongue dancing with my own.

Hunger was plentiful that night.

My hips moved against yours as we tried to create some friction and multiply the heat between our two bodies. My hands were in your soft hair. Yours were all over my body. The feeling that filled up me with you enticing touches as you allowed me to move down your body was intoxicating.

Your trousers were pooled at your legs seconds later. My shorts had disappeared to somewhere I could barely be bothered with.

As you came undone, you whispered another woman's name. "Cheryl," you said, and that one lone name was able to cause hurt to dig deep into me. It felt as if you struck me with a knife and twisted it in my gut.

It had taken another girl to break you for you to go on a drinking spree and come knocking on my door. But you'd never touched me before. Never. And I finally had you in my grasp. I couldn't be bothered over some other silly girl who clearly was foolish for dumping a masterpiece such as yourself, so I brushed off her name, the very name you had whispered on my bare shoulder.

It was okay. I didn't mind.

You were touching me. You were kissing me. You were making love to me.

That was all that mattered.

"Bradley," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

"Shh, don't talk babe," you whispered back, your hand at the back of my head. You laid back down and shifted me to the side so that my back was pressed onto the couch. We were practically squished together but I could not complain. I liked that you were this close to me.

I wanted to talk and ask you what that was about. I yearned to know if what we had just shared together meant anything...if you had been dying to kiss me, to make love to, just as I had been dying to kiss you and to make love to you.

I did not say anything. I couldn't. You passed out seconds later after telling me to keep quiet. Reality was sinking in fast and I decided to turn a blind eye to it. Instead of accepting my probable fate that stared me boldly in the eye, I looked at you. You were peaceful when you were asleep. You didn't look heartbroken as you had when you knocked on my door.

I loved you, Bradley. I would do anything for you. Why couldn't you see that? I wish you could see it.

I wish you could see me. 

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a/n: how are you liking the story so far? just so you know, this isn't a love story (it never was meant to be). the characters don't necessarily reflect me nor is this going to be perfect. you're going to be dealing with some seriously messed up characters in this book. 

i appreciate all the support i've received so far! thank you lovelies. do feel free do drop your thoughts in the comment section and vote if you enjoyed reading this! 

until next time, xo.