He brushes my hair behind my ear.
I lean into his touch as his fingers skim my cheek. It's soft and sweet, like he really does love me.
"You okay?" he asks.
"No."
Blake wraps his arms around me. His body is warm and hard, but there's something soft about his embrace.
He leans closer.
Rubs my shoulders with his palm.
"How the hell are you so calm?" I tug at his shirt.
He runs his hand through my hair. "I don't have a choice."
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I know exactly what he means. Pulling yourself together is the only way to keep from falling apart.
"You do it, too." He runs his fingers over my cheek. "You're a strong person."
"Thank you."
"It does hurt me." His voice is steady. Even. "It's just I don't show it."
"You don't show anything. You're like a robot."
He laughs.
Oh, God, that laugh.
It cracks the wall around my heart.
It makes me warm all over.
And it convinces me this is going to be okay. One day. Somehow.
He steps backwards. "Sit down."
I do.
He pours me a glass of water. I drink it greedily. It feels like I've been thirsty for years.
Blake sits across from me. He leans closer, elbows on his knees, palm pressed against his cheek. He stares right into my eyes. "You're a very sweet girl."
"I'm twenty-one. I'm not a girl."
His lips curl into a half-smile. "Do you need some time?"
"Five minutes to pack."
He nods, reaches out, and brushes the stray hairs from my eyes.
He catches a tear on his thumb.
My legs go weak. Thank God I'm sitting. I'm spinning in too many different directions.
My body is desperate for his comfort.
But we're not together. Not even pretending to be together.
I can't ask that of him. No matter how badly I need it.
I press myself up and move into my room. It's a mess, but not out of line for a twenty-one-year-old.
I fold another pair of jeans, another t-shirt, another sweater. Extra socks and underwear. There. That's everything.
Worst-case scenario, well, best-case scenario, I can come back to pick up some extras. Hell, Blake probably has people for that.
There's a light knock on my door.
"Come in," I whisper.
He steps into the room.
His gaze focuses on my unadorned left hand. His eyes turn down. Almost like he really does want to marry me. No, he does. Just not for the right reasons.
He sits on my bed and pats the spot next to him. It's a tiny little bed—a full—but there's just enough room for the two of us.
I rest my head on his shoulder. He slides his arm around me.
His fingers brush against my back.
God, the man really is comforting. We could have had a perfect marriage except for the little matter of him not loving me.
"You're hurting," he says.
I nod. "I'm sorry. It's your mother. It's not fair for me to react like this."
He runs his fingers through my hair.
It wakes up every nerve in my body.
I turn towards his touch reflexively. It's the most comforting thing in the history of the world.
"I can get your mind off it." He drags his fingertips over my neck. "But you'll have to do things my way."
His breath is warm and wet.
I want his way.
I want to feel anything else.
His touch is so soft. My eyes flutter closed. My nerves stand on end. It's an itch, and he's the only thing that can scratch it.
"You'll have to surrender completely," he says.
Perfect. I nod. "Please."
He rises and presses my bedroom door closed. Slides my suitcase out of the way and surveys the bed. "You have any scarves?"
I grab one from my dresser and hand it to him.
Blake rolls his shoulders back. "Take off your clothes. All of them."
I slip out of my sweater, t-shirt, and jeans. Just a bra and panties now.
Blake's pupils dilate. His tongue slides over his lips. I unhook my bra and slide it off one shoulder at a time.
He stares at my chest like he's transfixed, groaning lightly as my bra hits the ground.
His gaze returns to my eyes. There's something in his gaze today—urgency. He needs this too. It's a release for him too.
My sex clenches as I slide my panties to my ankles.
Blake motions come here.
Hell yes. Two steps and my body is pressed against his. I'm on display for him. I'm his. He can use me as he pleases.
He runs his fingertips from the nape of my neck to my ass. His touch is light and patient. Much, much too patient.
He kisses me, slowly sliding his tongue into my mouth.
I grab his shoulders, hook my leg over around his hip, groan into his mouth.
Blake is kissing me. It feels so damn right. It's hard to believe there's so much wrong with this non-relationship.
He adjusts our positions so I'm a foot away from the wall. Not the one that connects with Lizzy's bedroom. The one we share with the neighbors.
Blake guides my arm, placing my palm flat against the wall. He does the same with the other.
His hands close around my hips. He nudges me a few inches closer. My nose is six inches from the wall. There's barely any breathing room.
He pulls the scarf around my eyes, blindfolding me, and ties a tight knot. Everything is fuzzy but I still have a sense of the light in the room.
My body goes cold as he moves away.
The light changes. The main one is off now. Just the desk lamp. There's shifting behind me. Blake taking off some of his clothes. Everything inside me wants to turn around, to rip this blindfold off so I can drink in the sight of his gorgeous body.
He moves closer. His nails scrape against my back, trailing down my spine. He digs his fingers into my ass with a heavy groan. "What do you want?"
"You."
"How?"
That flutter below my belly goes into overdrive. I want him every way, including a million ways I'll never get him. But that isn't what he's asking. He doesn't care if I love him or not.
This isn't about love.
This is fucking, pure and simple.
I press my fingertips against the wall. Something to contain the desperate feeling in my body. "Inside me. So deep I can't breathe."
Blake groans as he slides two fingers inside me.
I press my palms into the wall. It's not enough. It doesn't contain the pleasure racing through me. I swallow a groan. I'm not waking up my sister. Not like this.
He fucks me with his fingers.
He brings his other hand to my breast and toys with my nipples.
I press my back against his chest, soaking up the feeling of his body against mine.
This is sex. Just sex.
But it's more too.
He wants me feeling good. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
"Blake." I slam my hand against the wall. There's t
he deepest, hardest tension inside me. It's perfect agony.
He draws circles around my nipple, sending pangs to my sex.
Almost…
I arch my back, shifting my body into his, pushing him deeper.
The tension in my core knots.
I arch my back.
I bite my lip.
There.
I bring my hand to my mouth to muffle my groans. My sex pulses as I come. Pleasure spreads out through my limbs. It pushes away all the storm clouds in the room.
Blake brings his hands to my hips and pulls me into position.
I shift my hips as he enters me. It's like I'm home, like I'm whole.
He brings his mouth to my ear. "You feel so fucking good." He groans, digging his nails into my hips.
He pushes deeper. Deeper. Deeper.
I gasp. It's so much pressure, so much it hurts. But that's its own kind of good.
He brings his hand to my pelvis and holds me against him. All I can do is surrender to the feeling of him deep, deep inside me.
Pleasure whirs around inside me. "Blake," I groan. I rid my mind of conscious thought.
"Tell me you're mine," he commands.
"Tonight," I say.
"Always." He slides his fingers over my clit as he thrusts into me.
"Tonight." My legs shake. My breath catches in my throat. "I'm yours tonight."
He lets out a low, heavy groan.
He moves harder. Deeper.
I arch my back to meet him, rubbing my clit over his fingers like they're my personal sex toy. The ache inside me fades to bliss. I'm close.
"Don't stop," I moan.
"Like hell." He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, so my neck is pressed up against his mouth. "You're mine," he growls against my neck.
Tonight. I'm his tonight. It's the only thing I want to be.
He grabs my hips and pins me to the wall. I turn my head, arching my back to keep him as deep inside me as he'll go.
Blake kisses me. It's hard, hungry, desperate. He moans into my mouth.
Then, his lips are on my neck, and he's moving harder. Deeper.
His fingers slide over my clit with that same rhythm. Almost. Almost…
"Blake." I groan his name as I come.
The release is a rush. I go into free fall. I lose track of everything but the bliss spreading through by body.
He doesn't stop. He keeps rubbing me. Keeps thrusting into me. It's too much sensation. It hurts like hell.
Blake nips at my ear. "Fuck. Kat."
Then it's not too much. It's perfect. This orgasm is fast and hard. It starts high. Builds and builds. Tighter and tighter.