Two Hours–1
A broken moan leaves my throat when Jake pulls out of me. I can feel my asshole gaping, can feel the loss of his fullness. Zaid watches me, dark eyes assessing, but he says
nothing.
All he does is adjust himself in his pants and moves away. That gives Jake the space to stand, his arms around me as he lifts me with him. He also doesn’t say anything. He walks
us out of the living room and toward the stairs.
Zaid doesn’t follow us, instead he picks up the mess of food and plates we left on the coffee table. I hear the click of the TV being shut off, the soft clatter of dishes being
stacked in the sink.
I’m too tired to fight him on it, too worn down to argue that he should just join us in bed.
I feel heavy and drained all at the same time.
By the time Jake nudges his bedroom door open with his foot, I’m half–asleep against his
chest. The bed’s soft as he lowers me onto it, and I shiver a little at the cool sheets. He
climbs in next to me without letting go, pulling me in close. His lips brush over mine.
I open up for him, taking his tongue and thrusting mine into his mouth. It feels good to be explored in a way that makes you feel cared for. We kiss for a while, tangled up together, his arms wrapped around me.
It makes me feel safe. It’s a false sense of security. The memories will always haunt me,
regardless. I’m too exhausted to keep my eyes open.
Sleep comes and so do the dreams. The memories.
The nightmares.
Metal shrieking. Tires skidding. That awful weightless second before the impact. The smell of burning rubber. Of gasoline. The sharp, coppery bite of blood. Alex’s limp body being carried out of the car-
I jolt awake with a choked gasp, air burning in my lungs. My heart’s pounding, and I hate myself for this.
I knew I’d have nightmares. I knew it. And I still let myself fall asleep.
1/3
Two Hours–1
I drag my hands over my face, trying to breathe, but it’s ragged. Ugly. My eyes sting, but I refuse to cry.
Then I feel a hand. Warm. Heavy. Resting on my thigh.
I turn, and Zaid’s there. Laying beside me, his dark eyes on mine, steady.
He must’ve come up after I’d fallen asleep. I didn’t hear him. Didn’t feel him. But he’s here now, and when he touches my face, it’s careful. His thumb brushes over my cheek like he’s memorizing the sight of me.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs. His voice is rough with sleep, but it wraps around me.
I want to say something. I don’t know what.
He moves and I blink in the darkness when I suddenly lose sight of him.
His name is caught on my tongue. I don’t get it out. His hands spread my thighs, and he’s eating me out. I can’t think.
Thank god I can’t think.
His mouth, his lips, his tongue are warm and wet against my center and he brings my hunger back to life. It ignites inside of me. I fist the sheets beneath me, gasping for breath.
His fingers dig into my skin as he sucks my clit between his teeth, biting down. That makes my back arch. He deepens his onslaught, thrusting his tongue into me, his fingers moving to massage my inner thighs.
The nightmare is long forgotten and I cry into the pillow, trembling as I come.
He hums, slurping up all the wetness he can. The sound is obscene, like a thirsty man gulping down water.
I should be embarrassed, but I can’t be. I belong with him, like this.
He makes me orgasm two more times and then I am pushing at his shoulders, my thighs tight against his head. “Zaid, please. I can’t. It’s too much.”
I’m exhausted.
2/3
Two Hours–1
He pulls away, reluctantly, and shifts up over my body. He rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard, and I feel the faintest curve of a smile ghost across his lips. He lays back down, tugging me with him until I’m tucked under his arm, my head on his chest. His hand finds mine and threads our fingers together.
