Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

He slides out and then back in, and we both hiss again. Oh, fuck. He feels like he hits the very end of me. He’s the perfect size and it makes my eyes roll back.

“How’s this?” he whispers.

I grab his face and kiss him in pure desperation. “Make it go away. Make this ache stop,” I beg.

He rises above me and slides out, then back in deeper. Again and again, each time deeper than the last, each time harder.”

We get into a rhythm and he begins to really let me have it. Deep, hard hits force the bed to bang against the wall. His hand rises to my thigh and he brings it up higher, giving himself greater access.

“Fucking hell, Bree.” He moans as he begins to lose control. “How will I ever get enough of this?”

If I could answer that, I would, but my eyes are rolling and my mouth is hanging open.

He loses control and lifts my legs, hitting me harder and harder until the sound of the bed hitting the wall is all we can hear. I cry out as my world flashes in bright technicolour. His body is covered with a sheen of perspiration, and he lifts my hips to where he wants them, pumping deeper, and then holding himself still when buried inside of me. His body jerks hard as his own orgasm tears through him.

We gasp for air and he leans down to kiss me. We smile at each other's lips as his body slowly moves in and out of mine.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he says, like it’s the most important thing he’s ever said.

I smile shyly, overwhelmed with emotion.

He kisses me again and again, until finally, ten minutes later, he pulls out and falls on his side next to me. We lie facing each other, and he runs his fingers through my hair, obviously deep in thought.

“What?’ I ask with a smile.

“Just you.”

I smile and we lie in comfortable silence. I feel so relaxed, and my eyes begin to close.

“Don’t go to sleep on me, baby. I want to spend more time with you.”

I smile against his chest. “You can have me every night, Jules. I’m yours,” I whisper sleepily, letting my eyes close properly.

"Until you leave," he mumbles quietly as if distracted.

I smile against his skin. “Yes.” My eyelids are so heavy that I can’t keep them open. “Until I leave”.

Chapter Twenty

It’s still dark in my room when I wake. Julian has already left for work, and the light is just peeking through the side of my drapes. I rub my eyes and stare up at the ceiling, unable to believe what a weekend we had. So much happened. I’m having trouble processing it all.

Alina. Poor Alina.

My mind is weighing heavy with thoughts of her and how sad her life must have been. She fell pregnant so young, and then Julian couldn’t love her, but that didn’t stop her from falling in love with him. That hurt changed her to the point of her becoming an alcoholic and dying of loneliness.

I get a lump in my throat when I imagine how alone she must have felt.

What a terribly tragic story. Sadness fills me as I imagine her lying upstairs in despair, desperate for a way out at what her life had become.

No wonder this house is so heavy and serious.

It’s never been any other way.

And my beautiful Julian, trapped into marrying a woman he didn’t love. He tried to do the right thing and take care of his responsibilities. He never had a chance to pursue his own happiness. I can’t imagine the guilt he must feel every day, knowing that his inability to love a woman had inadvertently caused her death.

His mother told me that he had issues. Hell, she wasn’t joking, was she? I now know exactly why he doesn’t bring up hard subjects with the children. How you could you ever explain that story without them being resentful to him?

Sorry, kids, I just couldn’t love your mother after I knocked her up, so it’s my fault she became an alcoholic and killed herself.