I Want You to Want Me
Frozen and stunned and breathless and transfixed on the last step, I have no choice but to watch Hunter and Candy go at it. Their bodies mingling together are like a graceful dance that I am immensely jealous of. Her pale limbs are locked around his hips. Hunter is wedged between her legs, sliding in and out of her in the gentlest rhythm I’ve ever seen anyone use. The motion he uses is one that another would use to illustrate appreciation and even love. The beautiful skin of his back is completely exposed. The muscles and the line of his spine are tensed. He keeps his jeans on while Candy is nude in the flesh. She shuts her eyes, tossing her head back and moans ever so softly. The quality of her hushed voice is almost songlike.
“Hunter,” she pants, gripping his flexing biceps, her red painted nails cutting into his arms.
He doesn’t respond to her. He only drives deeper and faster until her arms flop to her sides and her body is liquefying into gelatin.
“Hunter, sweetie, I’m there—”
Her soft, curvy body is carelessly thrown over the arm of the sofa and Hunter is suddenly behind her, thrusting like a madman, holding back nothing.
A range of emotions surges through me. The most prominent is envy. I envy Candy White. She’s giving Hunter something I always wanted to give him. Her body is much more feminine than mine. She has breasts, hips, and thighs. She has a soft voluptuous body while I am barely a C-cup and wouldn’t tip the scale at 118 pounds soaking wet. Within the dim light from the fireplace, her skin appears flawless, not marked and scarred like mine.
I am nothing.
Candy is a man’s dream come true.
The pent-up air that I’ve been holding in my lungs, wheezes out through my mouth. I want to cry, maybe scream and shout, or at least run, but I can do neither of those options. This scene before me, which is both beautiful and horrifying, is too captivating to leave. It’s beautiful because the vision of Hunter enjoying himself in such a primal way is kind of worth the agonizing pain I feel in my entire body, not just my chest. Horrifying because Hunter is enjoying himself and I have no part in it.
“Hunter, sweetie, please,” Candy begs. Her low voice is now husky and strained with a pleasure I will never know.
His sounds aren’t as erotic as hers. Hunter’s grunts are angry almost frustrated, like he is losing patience with her, with everything. It seems like he just wants to reach his goal.
But how can that be?
How can he be irritated with an act such as fucking? There are no other words to describe what’s happening. They are not making love. Hunter and Candy are fucking, in the rawest form.
One hand grasps her hip, holding her in place while the other one is knotted in her shining ruby red hair. He tugs harshly as he uses more force to plunge into her.
Her legs start to shake and the soft purrs turns into guttural pleas.
He cups the back of her head, leaning down and twisting her head towards him to give her a sloppy and possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting into her open and receiving mouth. He kisses her hard, long and deep, never wavering from fucking her brutally.
A rush of warmth floods my body. My nipples are hard and scrape the fabric of Hunter’s shirt. Wetness gathers between my thighs and threatens to seep down my legs. My heart rate and breathing quickens.
If only he would touch me like that.
A harsh flash of white lightning strikes across the sky. It pulls me from my reverie. Not trusting my trembling legs to carry me, I gracefully sink to my knees and begin to clamber up the stairs, careful not to make any noise that will give me away. On my hands and knees, I crawl down the hallway and down to Hero’s cracked room door, using my hand to push the door open and lock it behind me.
He’s still peacefully sleeping with his earbuds in contact when I approach him. I carefully climb into his bed and nudge his shoulder. I have to shake him a few times to get him to fully wake.
He jolts upright, slinging the earbuds from his ears, twisting his head from side to side and his eyes are wide and alert. “What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
He glances out the window. The trees are violently swaying; it’s as if they are going to snap from the pressure of the wind at any moment. He sighs and wipes the sleep from his eyes. “Of the storm?”
I bite my lip, nodding. “Can I lie down with you?”
He looks at me and blinks.
“Only until the storm passes. Please, Hero,” I beg almost frantically.
“Okay, okay,” his voice is gravely from sleep. Hero unthinkingly pats the space bedside him.
Stifling my smile, I form my body into the curves of his, snuggling my face into his neck. He stiffens and then relaxes after a heartbeat, throwing an arm around my back, cradling me close to his chest.
His pulse accelerates. I feel it pound against my cheek. Wanting to finally be selfish, I place my tongue there.
He tenses, inhaling sharply. “Isabel, we can’t.” The tone of his voice is almost whiny, desperate to seek some kind of understanding.
My good hand glides down and I grip him between his legs. His groin instantly twitches and hardens beneath me. “We can.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and gives his head a shake.
“We can,” I whisper, kissing up his neck, rolling on top of him. I graze his earlobe with my teeth and suck the ache away.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his eyes still closed.
Straddling him, my hands run underneath his shirt to explore his taut, smooth chest as I rock my hips on the huge budge in his jeans. This feels too good to be so wrong.
“Fuck, Isabel,” he says huskily, flipping me on my back, pinning both of my arms with one of his large hands. “This is wrong on so many levels.”
“I don’t care, Hero. It’s just you and me in this moment, no one else. Give in. It’s okay.”
He stares at me with the strangest expression and then shocks me when he smiles, knowing and almost smug. “I can’t fuck you, but I can…” he trails off, and his hand slips between my legs and roughly cups my sex.
My back arches off the mattress as pleasure blooms there.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers in wonder. His fingers press deeper into my wet flesh until they’re wiggling and swirling inside of me.
My body strains against the restraint of his other arm that weighs me down.
His mouth crushes down on mine, his tongue tracing the outline of my lips. I taste alcohol on his breath. He has been drinking. I think he’s drunk, but that isn’t stopping him and it’s definitely not stopping me. We are both unfit to be in a sound state of mind to determine what’s right and what’s completely over the line. Crappy excuse or not, I’m just glad and grateful to have Hero distract me from whatever poison that lurks inside my head at the moment.
He buries his face into my throat, pushing his fingers further into me, his thumb roughly circling my clit. A rush of heat ripples down the line of my spine. My entire body bucks and bows and trembles around his hand. I moan incoherently as my orgasm wrecks me. Before I can calculate anything, Hero settles between my legs and rubs the thick length of himself against me.
His erection warms me through the thin material of his pants as he moves against me, as if he can somehow enter me. I freeze as he pushes into me without really penetrating me. His hot breath fans across my moist face as he increases his speed. I wrap my arms around his back and pull him close to me. His breath hitches and his thrusts me becomes jerker, his breathing more labored. Hero stuffs his face inside my neck and grunts, coming down from his climax.
He collapses on top of me. Hero’s body begins to shake. At first, I think he’s laughing until I feel wetness on the side of my neck from his soft eyelashes. I lovingly stroke his back and then his hair. He coils his arms around me in a viselike grip, nuzzling his face deeper into my neck. We stay silent like that for the longest moment.
Eventually, Hero gathers his composure when my body starts to tremble with a constricted wail of my own.
He holds me tighter and kisses my cheek.
“I miss him,” I whisper barely audible.
“I do, too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.”
Our eyes meet in the dark. He stares down at me, his expression guilty but thankful, mirroring mine. Hero rolls on the side of me with a heavy sigh, pulling me close into his side. His fingers play with the ends of my hair. I try to ignore the big wet spot between his legs and the fact that this entire situation is nauseating. Instead of focusing on the negative, I swim in the relief of my post orgasmic glow and the heavenly weightlessness it brings. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, falling into a peaceful slumber.