* * *
When he steps back, I feel the weight of my own body come back down on me. Like whoever that just was, the lusty girl who just inhabited my body wasn’t me.
But it was me.
It was all of me and all the years of bundled-up restraint coming out at once.
And now I’m here in the aftermath, lying on this table, staring at every speck of dust floating by as if I’m not really here.
Who is this woman I’ve become?
This woman who just gave her virginity so willingly to the only guy she never should’ve given it to?
I close my eyes and sigh, then crawl up, scratching my nails along the table. My wrists push harshly into the wood, the pain a memory I hold so dear. It’s a weapon I use in times of need. A weapon that doesn’t hurt him, but me. Even if I’m not the one who deserves it.
I feel his presence behind me as I stand and slowly turn to face him, my courage waning with every passing second. My eyes lower. I can’t even look at him without feeling incredible shame bubble to the surface. Shame … for my own damn lust.
It’s too much.
I run to the bathroom and lock myself inside before he can catch me.
“Jas?”
I try not to listen. All I want is to forget I was ever even here. Disappear. Pretend nothing happened.
Because if I ever acknowledged what just transpired, what I just begged for, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Clutching the sink, I look up at myself in the mirror.
Who is this girl? What does she even want?
Enraged, I chuck water at the reflection and then at my own face.
Why would I do this to myself?
Why would I make myself want him so badly I couldn’t say no anymore?
“Jas, are you okay?”
His voice makes me look up at the door. His feet cast a shadow on the light coming through the small gap underneath.
“Jas? Answer me,” he adds, his voice sounding almost … worried.
As though he actually cares about my feelings.
And that alone makes me mad as hell.
Sighing, I stare at the door, all my fury culminating into my hands, wishing I could just storm out there and give him a piece of my mind. But the second I think about it, something is slipped underneath the door, and it catches me off guard.
It’s a pair of fresh leggings and an oversized hoodie.
What the …?
I pick them up and check them out, smelling them. Definitely his.
But I’m all out of clothes, and my only other option is in the car I’ve yet to backtrack to.
I sigh and sit down on the toilet to clean myself while trying not to think about the fact that his cum was inside me and that the mere idea is already making me horny again.