Spice, musk, a little sweat. So warm. Fingers tangled in hair. T-shirt covered metal between my open lips, asking to be tugged on. The hand pressing my mouth there made sure there was no mistake. Another hand squeezing my ass, smashing my body against his between my thighs. I was draped over him, straddling him, all his parts lining up with my own.
It was too much, too overwhelming, the unending waves of feeling making my limbs heavy, my mind dull. I couldn't keep my eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time even trying to fight it. I wanted him, of course I wanted him, but this was...cruel. What was he trying to prove?
I dragged my chin up, wanting to see his face, his eyes. Wanting to see if there was mockery there, but i couldn't tell. He was so intense, eyes burning into me, lips parted and breathing harsh. I closed my eyes again, whispering "Why are you doing this to me?"
YOU ARE READING
Narcolepsy (A Love Story)
RomanceI don't get to have feelings, good or bad, not if I want to function. • • • • • • • • • "Just tell people. They might surprise you." "They never surprise me. And they never look at me the same. It's a joke, or it's a weakness, or I'm a freak show."...
