Aaron is silent as I half sob, half pant into my palms, the vibrator slipping to the bed with a thud.
This is everything I feared; emotions unearthed, and me totally out of control.
I must look a wreck, but I'm not sure what I want Aaron to do. When he shifts, I think he's going to reach toward me, but then his foot thuds against the floor, and he whispers, "I'm so sorry," and that's the last thing I want from him. Pity burns so hard when your wounds are raw. And it stings more because this whole pile of crazy has transpired because of Aaron's reactions to his hurt.
Before he can get away, I grab his wrist and hold him as tightly as I can. "Don't you fucking dare," I say. "Don't you do this, Aaron. You want to hold the strings and pull them so you don't need to get close to the reality of anything, tie me up in knots so I can't touch you, hold yourself so remotely so you can walk away unscathed. Well, fuck you if you think you can walk away now. Fuck you."
"Nicole," he says with so much pain in his voice I feel something shatter inside me. I'm up and off the bed, standing just an inch from him, breathing hard, and he doesn't move.
"You don't get to use me like that Aaron, to fuck out your misery and move on, denying everything and lying to yourself." I'm so angry at him and sorry too. It's hard to face hurt so visceral when you are still recovering from it yourself. To see a reflection of your pain magnifies everything to a needlepoint of anguish. I swipe at my face that's wet with tears.
"Let me go," he says softly, reaching out to cuff my hand that's still gripping his wrist.
"No," I hiss, shoving him hard in the chest with enough force to knock him off his feet and back onto the bed. His hand releases mine as his instinct to steady himself takes over. I release his wrist too and stand in front of him, breathing hard. I feel wild and angry as I lean toward him slowly until my mouth is a hairsbreadth away from his. His eyes search mine with confusion and something that looks like hope. "It's my turn, Aaron. You got to have everything your way. Now it's mine." I lick against his mouth, taking first his top lip, then his bottom between mine and sucking. He keeps his hands at his sides, resting flat on the bed. When I pull back, he's grasped the quilt in tight fists as if he's restraining himself from reaching out.
"Nicole," he whispers, almost a warning, but I'm not going to let anything he says get to me. I look down at his body, the beauty of it that I'd never been allowed to touch, and I want to feast on it. I deserve this much. I watch my hand reach out to touch the golden skin that rounds over his broad shoulder, and he shivers as my finger trace lower, over his bicep and then across his heavily muscled chest to his tight brown nipple, circling it lightly.
When I pinch it gently, he makes a strained sound, but I carry on regardless, down over the ripples of his stomach muscles, following the soft trail of hair from his belly button until my fingers graze the head of his hard cock.
I put one knee onto the bed, pressing the inside of my leg against his thigh and opening myself in front of him. His eyes are between my legs as I hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. "You see…this is going to go a little differently this time," I breathe into his ear, grinding my pussy against his cock. "This time, I get to take exactly what I want."
"Yes," he gasps, licking against my neck and stroking my hair that hangs over my breasts in dark streams.
"Yes," I say, reaching between us for his cock and holding it steady so I can lower myself onto it. I hadn't realized how important it was for me to have an element of control during sex. As I take him inside me, it's a different sensation; one of acceptance rather than surrender. I'm as wet as a river, and it takes just one downward push for our bodies to join, and he grasps onto my hips with desperately firm fingers that pull me toward him.
The feel of his smooth skin under my palms is so sensuous. I've missed being able to touch during sex.
Being more of an active participant brings a different edge to things. I know that I'm getting what I need, but I suddenly wonder about how he feels. I hold his face and bring his gaze to meet mine, and reel from the fear and the yearning I see there.