One Dirty Night

His touch was methodical and almost clinical, dipping inside me a little as if scooping out whatever remnants of semen remained. Only once he’d cleaned me thoroughly, did he bend his knees, turn me around, and nudge my legs apart.

His eyes locked on my core as his hands ran along the insides of my thighs.

Shadows darkened his face as he washed away the stickiness, the silver streams of dried pleasure.

I flinched as he washed right down to my feet before standing to his full height and trading body wash for shampoo. I lost track of time as his fingers slinked into my wet hair and the scrape of his nails on my scalp threatened to buckle my knees.

“Hold onto the wall,” he breathed as he massaged my wild chestnut curls.

I obeyed with trembling hands, swept away by his every touch.

By the time he rinsed me, applied conditioner, then ran his powerful hands over my every inch to ensure he’d washed away all our sin, I was dripping wet and desperate for him.

Blinking back haze, I drank in his bareness.

His cock hung heavy with another erection.

Whatever rules he wanted to keep between us had no sway over his body.

Reaching for him, I whispered, “The night isn’t over. We could be together…one last time.”

His fingers snapped around my wrist, just as mine latched around his hardness. “Ella…don’t.”

“You want me.”

He looked away, his dick jumping in my hand. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to take you.” His eyes shot to the bathroom window, where the sun slowly lightened the navy night. “Besides, dawn is here. The night is over.” Yanking my hand off him, he shut off the water, then stumbled out of the shower. With jerky motions, he wrapped his towel around his waist, trapping his erection against his belly.

Without looking back at me, he tossed my towel in my direction, then stalked from the bathroom.

All the heat from the shower. All the aching from his hands. All the softness from his caring…every single emotion solidified into the coldest, harshest ice.

My heart fissured.

My soul fractured.

I refused to look at myself in the mirror as tears fell.

I didn’t bother brushing my hair or putting on my usual nighttime skincare. All I wanted to do was go to bed and forget tonight had ever happened.

How could he be so heartless?

How could he turn off his feelings?

How could he hurt me so easily?

Enough.

Anger stomped all over my grief.

He’s not worth it.

You knew that.

That’s why you wanted him to share you with Hunter.

You wanted to make him suffer, just like he’s made you suffer.

The threesome was to empower you, not to make you sad.