Silently In Tune (COMPLETE)

Thirty-Three: Bruised

Corvina Maxwell

Pride filled me, relief drowning me as he moaned, the sounds echoing in the bathroom.

I didn't expect to feel so overwhelmed.

But I was happy he understood me and helped me.

He is what I need. I never want him to leave me.

I felt tears prick my eyes again at the thought of him leaving me alone. His cock down my throat, already making me teary too.

He pet my head, groaning, the sound from deep within him.

"Stop overthinking." He told me, reading my mind.

I hummed, my hands moving up his legs, over his hips, feeling his abs, gently moving my fingertips over his veins.

He hummed, grabbing my head as he began fucking my throat, I shut my eyes, letting myself get carried away in him.

I'd never felt so intensely anxious of being left before. I know he won't, but even thinking that made my heart hammer and eyes water.

"Stop, just open your mouth for me, relax." He said and I took a deep breathe before he went harder, making me gag and lose my breath.

He pulled back as he came on my tongue, I swallowed, taking it all before he helped me up, kissing me, wiping my chin.

"Shower. I have an interview later today but I have the morning with you." He kissed my forehead.

"Okay."

-

I came from the bathroom, everything spotless.

The washing machine running.

"What's this?" I asked to Val who was currently wiping off my counters.

"What?"

"The washer."

"Your clothes."

"Oh. Thank you. Why do you keep cleaning my house and your house?"

"Clean freak."

"That's why you don't live with the guys?"

"Sort of."

I sat on the barstool of his island.

"Is it because of the little cuff things in your room?"

He smiled.

"It's because I needed a room for you to make myself feel better."

"Why?"

"To convince myself this exact thing would happen. I had all this information about you. What you use, your sizes, your style. I had to apply it. You're my biggest fixation."

I nodded.

"I wish I could see myself how you do."

He gave a small smile.

"I'm glad you don't."

"Because of the dark thoughts?"

"Yeah. But also because you find me more interesting when you can't understand me." His bright blue eyes were boring into mine and suddenly it's like my body was paralyzed into place.

"Why are you making that face?" I asked and he blinked, looking down.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"That face. You looked... scary."

His head had inclined toward me a bit, eyes down at my throat, the smallest toothy smile. It was gory.

"Hm. I don't know." He returned to wiping the counters.

"Liar." I whispered and he chuckled.

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"I don't think that matters as we both know I'd never."

"I'm not asking if you would. Im asking if you want to."

"There's a lot of things I want to do."

"What was that face?"

He sighed, tossing away the wipe as he walked around the counter and to me, where he spun me so I was facing him, the corner of the island cutting into my back as he leaned over me.

He grabbed my jaw, pushing my head back.

He tugged at the shirt I wore, stretching the collar.

"I like the way you look."

"What?" I whispered.

"You look abused. I did it. I like it." He said.

"Abused? But I'm not-"

"To other people. They'd think I hurt you. I like that thought. Not... hurting you. But I love bruising you. I love how your skin is so delicate that only my grip will make your skin purple. It's enticing. I don't think I'll be too happy when you heal."

"Oh."

"I hope I leave a scar. Somewhere. Anywhere. I like seeing you cry because of me. Not because you hate me, but because I make you feel so good, because I'm too much for you." His hands squeeze my bare thighs. I whimper, understanding the intent.

"I want you to suffocate when you think about us apart the way I do. I want you to rather die than be without me. I want you obsessed with me like I am you." He whispered, his mouth beside my ear, my head leaning on his cheek as he squeezes, moving his hands soft up, up my shirt, feeling my aches sides.

I was completely bruised by him. My shoulders from the way he pulled me to meet his thrusts. My sides from him simply holding me a tad too tightly. My lips bruised, my ass raised with handprints, my thighs from him readjusting me to his fitting.

I recalled the feeling of bliss, heat throbbing in my stomach, my heartbeat in my clit.

"Sometimes I truly wish you were an object. I want to keep you forever and always have my way." He removed one hand from under my shirt to push my curls behind my ear as he kissed my temple.

His other hand gripped my tit and I took a shaky breath.

"What's got you flustered, babydoll?" He asked, pulling back, cupping my chin gently, his eyes now gentle and loving.

"H-how you talk."

"You like being degraded? You like being my little toy?" He whispered and I nodded, finding myself perched on the chair, my cunt aching for any attention from him.

"You're so cute. So pretty I could just... god the things I could do to you are endless." He studied my face.

He tilted his head down, his tongue licking the seam of my parted lips, his hand moving, gripping my throat with an intense force, his tongue moving from throat to jaw, jaw to temple, kissing my temple, my forehead.

He moved to kiss me, the kiss messy and lazy but deep and everything to me.

His tongue moved with mine like magic, the taste of him intoxicating.

He hummed when I bit his lower lip, sucking his tongue softly.

He chuckled, pulling back.

I frowned, not done.

"You need to eat."

"I already did. Before I made you food."

"Promise?" He asked.

"Yes."

He hummed, walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting ready. I have to leave earlier than I thought."

He smiled at my pout, offering his hand to me.

I walked to him, holding his hand as he let me watch him get ready.