Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
FILIP
Do not fucking panic. This is what I keep telling myself when Chloe closes the door to the bathroom. I intended to fuck her, I needed to after my emotional vomit, but then she had to look at me. With so many emotions occurring behind her emerald eyes, I succumbed to this weakness. I am torn, and the door calls to me, some last self-preserving instinct shouting to leave, but I silence it. I will stay and figure things out because I want this woman. That thought alone should have me scared shitless. But, no, it’s what she does to me, how she rips me open and digs herself inside of me. I made love to her of my own free will. I sound like a prick. But she has no idea that I didn’t even know I had it in me.
The door opens, and she leans against the door frame, chewing on her bottom lip. “You stayed.”
Relief shines in her eyes. I can’t believe she offered me a way out. She hops back in bed, and I clutch her to me.
“Now, what should I do with you?”
“Stay. Just stay.”
I would have never guessed we both protect the scars on our insides by erecting walls around us. We’re so damn vulnerable. I will stay because I cannot leave, but if this thing between us cracks, we’ll both tumble, and the walls will crash on top of us. I push my fear into a corner of my mind. Love is meant to be lived and enjoyed for a while. Misery, I am knocking on your door, but don’t you open it, not yet. I want more of this, more with her.
She digs a hand between my eyebrows, and I relax.
“You looked deep in thought.”
“And you say that because I don’t strike you as a thinker?”
“I have my doubts.” I snort laugh, and she giggles. It’s the spark in her eyes, the way she tilts toward me, seeking me that undoes me.
“I am hungry,” she says and taps my lip. I arch my eyebrow at her. “That means you should feed me,” she adds.
We’re both out of our element. This need is so damn thick it chokes the air out of us. The stark emotions she induces unbalance me. I pull my slacks up, and she lifts to her knees, wincing in pain. I rush to her, the sound propelling me to care for her.
“Chloe, why do you constantly have to force that leg?”
“I forgot,” she shrugs, pouting.
I shut my eyes and ask, “What should I order?”
“Pizza.”
I order a quattro formaggio. Afterwards, I should leave because I have a project due. I didn’t come prepared to stay.
When her intercom rings, I open the door, and the smell of baked dough, tomatoes, and cheese invades my nostrils. I snatch my wallet out of my pants and pay, but his eyes are glued to something behind my back. I turn my head and find Chloe behind me, amusement crossing her face, wearing my shirt and nothing else while the heat of jealousy burns me. I drag a hand down my face, jerk my chin, and step in front of him.
“She’s . . . she’s a . . . I saw the show,” he whispers.
I growl and say, “Stop ogling my girlfriend.”
“She’s your girlfriend?”
My jaw grinds. No one has ever insulted me more than this pimpled boy. I shove the money into his hands.
“Keep the change,” I snarl and slam the door behind me. I breathe in and out, and Chloe bursts into laughter.
“That kid got you this riled up? What did he say?” Wouldn’t she love to know.
“You’re hungry. Eat.”
She moans when she takes the first bite, and it goes straight to my dick. Chloe notices it, and because I love to make her squirm, I drag her feet down my length, and she chokes. And then she throws it at my face. She hurled a fucking pizza slice at me. I jump up while she tosses her head back and laughs, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
“What the fuck, Chloe?”
“Oh, shut up. I choked on it because of you.”
“Let’s see if I can make you choke on something else too.” She gulps and her curious expression turns me on. I snatch a napkin and clean my face.
“You have something . . . ,” she whispers, gesturing to my face.
“Clean up your mess.” The air shifts between us, thick with sexual tension. I lean toward her, and she doesn’t kiss me, instead she licks my face, and then her lips. My hand grips my pants, and I rip the zipper open. A tremor of anticipation jolts through her while I force my hands to stop shaking. We haven’t even started, and I am hard as fucking granite. I stroke my length, and her hand slides down my body.
“You were saying?”
She’s a player, I am a player. Does it ever work out? I don’t care at this moment, just for her to take me in her mouth.
“Suck me,” I say as I stand in front of her.
“What’s the magic word?”
I fist her hair, her pupils wide, filled with lust. It’s my turn to be rocked by the thrill of anticipation. “Please, suck me, you’re almost drooling.” She slaps my stomach and says prick under her breath, and there’s a challenge in her eyes as she takes me down her throat. Her mouth wraps around my length, and pleasure shoots through me. I can’t miss seeing this, and I force my eyes open. Her head bobs up and down my cock, her eyes fixed on me, a glint of a victory. Ah, yes, playing. She can win every time if she keeps sucking me off. But I can’t make it too easy for her. I cup her face, and her eyes widen. She’s used to having the upper hand. Such a pity.
“My turn.” I wink at her and fuck her mouth. It’s a battle of not wanting to give in.
“Touch yourself and make yourself come.” She obeys, and the power surging through me is addictive. Her body chases her release while I seek mine in her mouth. Her orgasm hits her, and I shoot mine down her throat. I pull out, her breaths heavy.
“You’re dirty.”
“You haven’t seen dirty yet.”
One trace of apprehension and an entire road of curiosity. I crawl on top of her, taking her lips in mine.
“Are you up for it?”
“Always.”
Yes, she’s fucking perfect and all mine.
