Page 88 of Souls and Sorrows
With one last thrust, I seat myself fully inside of her and come, painting the inside of her pussy like one of those canvases she hung up in the apartment. She tilts her head back, pulsing around me, and her fingers dig into my neck as she joins me in tumbling completely over the cliff of oblivion.
Our breaths fill the room, harsh and rapid, as we sit there, trying to regain conscious thought. It feels like my soul has just been sucked directly from my body, and there’s no way I’ll ever get it back.
I don’t even think I want it anymore.
“Uh… Cash? I think… maybe I should call you back later.”
We both freeze, our eyes popping wide open as the call clicks off, a dial tone suddenly ringing out. I forgot Hillary was on the fucking phone, too caught up in how phenomenal fucking Ariana felt, and Hillary’s continued presence means she just sat there the whole time, listening to us fuck.
Something about the image makes the entire ordeal that much more enthralling, and I can feel myself becoming interested again while still shoved inside Ariana.
Rolling us closer to the desk, I slam my thumb down on the phone base, hanging up.
“Holy shit,” she mutters, dropping her head against my neck. “I can’t believe she heard all of that.”
Laughter shakes her shoulders, and I fold my lips into a thin line, trying to ignore the way joy makes her pussy squeeze.
Or maybe it’s the smile in her voice, the one I can feel pressing into my sweaty skin. Something I’ve only gotten from her on rare occasions, so having it now feels like some sort of gift.
She sits back, and I marvel over her body again, taking my time now to touch every inch of her naked skin. The curve of her breasts, the freckles scattered beneath her collarbone, the tiny, faded circular scar on her ribs.
I’ve clearly given up any hope of not being with her physically, so I might as well go all in.
“Will you get in trouble?” she asks, pulling me from my reverie. “I mean, isn’t this technically public indecency?”
“Not technically, no. It is, plain and simple.” I pinch a nipple between two fingers, my chest tightening as it puckers under me. “But I’ll be fine. I’m not the one who’s naked anyway.”
Her mouth falls open, indignation lining her pupils. “You’d let me take the fall—”
Swooping in, I press a brutal kiss to her lips, cutting her off. They part, allowing me entry, and I dip my tongue in, seeking hers, wanting more.
Always wanting more.
I think that’s the fucking problem.
Greed has always been the main driving force in my life. My singular motivation to get out of bed every day because anyone who says money doesn’t buy happiness is wrong.
You can buy happiness. You can buyanythingif you know its value.
But my greed extends beyond that little green monster and blends into feelings I have for Ariana.
I don’t want to let her go.
When I pull back, she looks a little dazed, and I smirk. “Everything okay?”
She nods, silent, staring at me like, suddenly, she barely recognizes the man before her. One of her fingers comes up, touching the scar on the corner of my mouth. “How’d you get this?”
I push my thumb into the scar on her side. “You first.”
A swallow, and she stiffens in my arms. I don’t think she’ll tell me, content to keep her little secrets, but then she says, “My mother. She isn’t my biggest fan. She, ah, liked to take out a lot of things on me. Sometimes it was just emotional chess, other times it was physical, and sometimes…” Pausing, she looks down at me chin, then exhales slowly. “Let’s just say that five-years-old is a really early age to have to grow up.”
My heart cracks in half, fury pulsing through me at the thought of her mother putting her hands on her in repulsive ways. No wonder Ariana is the way she is.
I’m surprised she isn’t worse.
“Boating incident,” I tell her, taking the ensuing silence as her request to not continue. Frankly, I’m surprised I got that much out of her, and I don’t think pushing her is the right move at the moment. “My dad took me to a yacht party one year, and we got into it. His wedding band busted my lip wide open, and I never went to another outing with him again.”
In fact, my hatred for the man only grew tenfold. So much so that, when he died, I was more than a little bit satisfied with the resolution.
