Josh:
Tyler's fingers pricked my sides, his rough hands sliding down my ribs.
Too tight grip on my sensitive thighs.
More marks. Teeth, fingerprints, and all.
His hips smack against mine, in erratic unloving thrusts.
I let out some broken moans anyways. Maybe I like the way he man-handles me.
I mean, he loves me?
-
Yeah right.
But maybe I like the way he likes to grip my throat a little too tight.
Maybe I like the way I hurt after being near him.
Or, maybe I'm just used to it?
Used to the way he only says 'I love you' when we fuck ,
used to the way he gets set off,
used to the screaming, the bruises, the blood, the headaches.
-
How come you only love me when you touch me?
