Angel
Angel
Her dark hair spreads out across the pillow like a dirty halo. I wind sections of it around my fingers lazily and let it fall in slow motion to her face. She looks up at me, her eyes all lust and her mouth all dirty smiles. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I lean down and kiss her. Hard. Pinning her to the pillow with my lips and tongue. She reaches up to caress my cheek but I grab her wrist and slam her arm back down to the bed. She loves it like this. She cherishes her bruises like medals. She feels naked without them.
“You gotta go soon, huh?” she asks when I finally move away from her. My hand grips her wrist tighter at the question and she hisses with pain but makes no attempt to extricate herself. I nod silently. “I hate him,”
I drop her hand in a blaze of fury and stand up from the bed. I start searching the floor for my discarded bra.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. I ignore her. I refuse to have this conversation again. I cannot have this conversation again. She stands up and grabs my wrist; I stop my search and glance down at her tight grip. It hurts but I say nothing. “I said I’m sorry,”
“I love him” I managed to whisper, trying to avoid looking into her eyes because I know the pain those words create in her. I know how much they tear at her soul. And I hate that I’m the one who hurts her time and time again. I hate that she’s so fragile and I try so fucking hard to handle her like porcelain but I always end up breaking her. Time and time again.
“I know,” she says and drops my hand. She turns away from me and my heart cracks just a little bit more. Too infinitesimal to see but it’s there, I can feel it. I hate feeling so lonely when she’s right here, I could stretch out and brush my fingers across the smooth silky skin of her back.
Unable to stop myself, I reach out and grab her shoulders, spinning her towards me. I pull her against me, relishing the touch of her flesh to mine, the warmth of her skin against mine making me warmer and warmer. I can’t help myself. She makes me crazy. She makes me do things I swore I would never do.
I push her back onto the bed and silence her apologies with kisses. Smothering her. Her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, her nipples, her stomach and down, down, down, finding that secret place that makes her back arch and her breath escape in tiny, short, sharp gasps.
“I love you too, y’know?” I say finally, when her breathing has shallowed and I’ve got mine back. She looks at me, her cheeks still flushed and her brow slightly damp. I love the post-orgasm haze that comes over her eyes, making her look even more insatiable. I look away before it kills me.
“I know,” she smiles, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it gently. “You should go,” I nod and quickly pull my clothes back on, hating every single millimetre of fabric that covers my skin, that takes me away from her.
“I’ll call you later,” I say, pushing my hair back from my eyes. She pulls the sheets over her naked body and smiles. I want to kiss her again. I want to bury myself in her and never leave the comfort and warmth of this room but I know that I have to. I know that he’s waiting for me.
I blow her a kiss and close the door behind me and pretend that I don’t hear her start to cry…
Her dark hair spreads out across the pillow like a dirty halo. I wind sections of it around my fingers lazily and let it fall in slow motion to her face. She looks up at me, her eyes all lust and her mouth all dirty smiles. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I lean down and kiss her. Hard. Pinning her to the pillow with my lips and tongue. She reaches up to caress my cheek but I grab her wrist and slam her arm back down to the bed. She loves it like this. She cherishes her bruises like medals. She feels naked without them.
“You gotta go soon, huh?” she asks when I finally move away from her. My hand grips her wrist tighter at the question and she hisses with pain but makes no attempt to extricate herself. I nod silently. “I hate him,”
I drop her hand in a blaze of fury and stand up from the bed. I start searching the floor for my discarded bra.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. I ignore her. I refuse to have this conversation again. I cannot have this conversation again. She stands up and grabs my wrist; I stop my search and glance down at her tight grip. It hurts but I say nothing. “I said I’m sorry,”
“I love him” I managed to whisper, trying to avoid looking into her eyes because I know the pain those words create in her. I know how much they tear at her soul. And I hate that I’m the one who hurts her time and time again. I hate that she’s so fragile and I try so fucking hard to handle her like porcelain but I always end up breaking her. Time and time again.
“I know,” she says and drops my hand. She turns away from me and my heart cracks just a little bit more. Too infinitesimal to see but it’s there, I can feel it. I hate feeling so lonely when she’s right here, I could stretch out and brush my fingers across the smooth silky skin of her back.
Unable to stop myself, I reach out and grab her shoulders, spinning her towards me. I pull her against me, relishing the touch of her flesh to mine, the warmth of her skin against mine making me warmer and warmer. I can’t help myself. She makes me crazy. She makes me do things I swore I would never do.
I push her back onto the bed and silence her apologies with kisses. Smothering her. Her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, her nipples, her stomach and down, down, down, finding that secret place that makes her back arch and her breath escape in tiny, short, sharp gasps.
“I love you too, y’know?” I say finally, when her breathing has shallowed and I’ve got mine back. She looks at me, her cheeks still flushed and her brow slightly damp. I love the post-orgasm haze that comes over her eyes, making her look even more insatiable. I look away before it kills me.
“I know,” she smiles, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it gently. “You should go,” I nod and quickly pull my clothes back on, hating every single millimetre of fabric that covers my skin, that takes me away from her.
“I’ll call you later,” I say, pushing my hair back from my eyes. She pulls the sheets over her naked body and smiles. I want to kiss her again. I want to bury myself in her and never leave the comfort and warmth of this room but I know that I have to. I know that he’s waiting for me.
I blow her a kiss and close the door behind me and pretend that I don’t hear her start to cry…