Right now, I don’t care.
Kray fills me up, and the sensation chases away the demons in my heart. The turmoil, the emotion of the day disappears as I ride his cock, as I let him lose himself in my pussy.
I don’t ask him to use a condom because I want to feel the rawness of his cock, the realness of him inside me.
As his control loosens, he grabs my tits, sucking a nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze my nipple, and I cry out, the shock making my insides grip his cock.
“Fuck.”
The feelings shooting through my body are overwhelming me, giving me a few moments of peace where there’s nothing in the world but the heat coming from his cock and raging through my body.
My nipple pops out of his mouth, and I take the opportunity to lean back. Thrusting my tits out as I ride him hard, letting him see my body, watching his face as he gets close to losing control.
I feel powerful. I feel in control. I feel nothing.
When Kray’s about to lose it, I lean forward and ride him hard as my clit rubs against his pubic bone.
My orgasm screams out of me, and I clutch his shoulder as I come. A moment later, Kray thrashes against me, and I feel hot come shoot into me.
I crash forward, panting hard, hiding my face in his shoulder as waves of pleasure sweep through me.
I roll off him, and Kray gets me a tissue to clean up. I face the wall, pretending to be exhausted, and he wraps his arms around me, planting soft kisses on my neck.
It feels good. It feels safe, but I know it’s not.
Kray is only here for a visit. He thinks he feels something for me, but I know it won’t last. I’m a distraction, an unexpected gift for a few days over Christmas.
He’ll go back home in a few days. He’ll leave me like everyone else does.
Sex with Kray was amazing, but it was just sex. That’s what I tell myself as his solid arms pull me toward him, wrapping me in a tight hug.
I drift off to sleep, for one night feeling wanted in his arms.
12
KRAY
My arm reaches for Cleo and comes down on an empty pillow. Groggy from sleep, I open my eyes. The other side of the bed is empty. The sheets are pulled up just below the pillow and smoothed down, nicely made.
I sit up quickly, listening for sounds in the apartment. But there’s nothing but silence.
“Cleo?”
Not bothering to dress, I get out of bed and stalk through to the living room.
It’s empty.
There’s no smell of brewing coffee and no sounds of Cleo humming to herself like she does in the mornings. I search the kitchen and entryway, then double back to the bathroom.
But the place is empty.
My gut clenches, an ominous feeling sitting heavy in my stomach.
I try to tell myself she’s gone out for milk or something, even though she drinks her coffee black. Then I notice her bag’s gone. And I know she’s gone too.
“Fuck.”
Somehow, while I was sleeping, Cleo packed up her belongings and left.