She’s fucking perfection in my mouth the way I knew she would be. She has a death grip on my hand right now, but I also know that if she didn’t want this, she would have let me know. So, even though I feel the hesitance in her thighs she’s clenching against me, her tiny gasps tell me she’s okay.
I bury my tongue inside her and imagine it’s my dick when I reach down, pull the towel off me, and touch myself. Normally, just the thought of Adaline is enough to get me hard, but for some reason, I’m not. I jerk off while I continue licking and sucking. Her body squirms, and she has me so worked up right now. My balls ache, screaming for release. The intensity is so strong that I can feel it crawling under my skin, but frustration taunts as I try to get an erection.
“Kason.”
God, she sounds so fucking sweet when she moans my name.
After a few more strokes, I give up and use my hand to pleasure her. The second I slide my finger inside her, she arches her back off the bed. I watch her from between her legs and imagine what it would be like to have sex with her. Would she move beneath me the way she is right now? Would she make the same sounds? But no matter how much I fantasize, my dick remains limp and useless even though I’m horny as hell.
She’s so sincere with me, trusting that I’ll take care of her with each step forward we take in our relationship. She isn’t like most of the girls who’ve hit on me at school, eager to make out because somehow they’re misinformed, thinking physical and emotional intimacy goes hand in hand, so they’re quick to give it up.
Not Adaline. This girl threw her heart at me before she ever considered the physical stuff. And it doesn’t matter that I have her legs spread open right now, she isn’t one who would give herself flippantly to me. That’s how I know she truly loves me in return. She gives beyond what a guy like me deserves, and she does it so perfectly.
I love that I’m the one who gets to witness her learning what her body likes and discovering her sexuality. My girl is so innocent and sweet, never faking her pleasure to appease me. She’s always honest. The first time I fingered her, she wasn’t able to orgasm, and since then, she still has a difficult time. So when she pulls me up to her right now, I know she can’t get there. Only once have I made her come. I’ve jerked off to that memory so many times because it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
She lifts her lips to mine and kisses me, moaning into my mouth as her tongue tangles with mine, tasting herself on me. Without thinking, I settle my hips into the cradle of her thighs, and her whole body freezes at the skin-to-skin contact.
“Kason,” she panics.
“Sorry.”
I back off the bed, grab a pair of athletic shorts from my dresser, and pull them on. When I return to her, she already has herself under my sheets. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and she’s timid as I wrap my arms around her and tuck her in close to me. She’s the same way after each time we try something new, but it doesn’t usually take long for it to pass.
Scooting us down on the bed, I turn to my side and meet her eyes. Her smile is soft, and I kiss it, greedy to taste her happiness. We linger in closeness for a while before she eventually drags her lips from mine and nestles her head under my chin. I pull her still damp, bright blonde hair down and run my fingers through it.
“Can I ask you something?” she murmurs.
“You can ask me anything.”
Her hand trails across my abs. “Why haven’t you mentioned your birthday coming up?”
“How did you know?”
“Your mom.”
I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “It isn’t that I didn’t want you to know. It just isn’t a big deal to me.”
“Has anyone ever made it a big deal?”
“You mean like giving me a party or something?”
“Yeah.”
She tilts her head back, and when she looks at me, I shake my head. “No.”
There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes, and it comforts me to know that she cares about the fact that I’ve never had a birthday party—something so trivial. It isn’t anything I can say I’m upset about, but clearly she finds it important.
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Maybe not now,” she says gently. “Did it when you were younger?”
“I guess I didn’t know anything other than what I had, which wasn’t much.”
She sits up and looks at me with wishful optimism. “Would it be okay if I wanted to do something for you?”
“You don’t have to. It’s nothing special, really. Just another day.”
“Maybe to you it isn’t special, but it is to me.”
I couldn’t possibly tell her no, so I don’t, and when she returns to my arms, we allow time to drift with the setting sun. She finds contentment as she lies next to me, but I ache. The tightness between my legs only gets worse the longer I ignore it, and as much as I hate having to send Adaline home, I need her to go.
“It’s getting late, babe.”
She picks up her cell that’s on the floor next to the mattress. “It’s only nine.”
“I don’t want you driving by yourself around here late at night.”
She groans, and I give the top of her head a kiss before getting out of bed and grabbing her shorts from the floor. When she’s dressed, I walk her to her car.
“Call me when you get home, okay?”
With another kiss, she closes her door, and drives away the same time I see Krista pulling in.
“I was beginning to wonder if you fell off the planet,” she says when she gets out of her car.
“I’ve been around.”
“You want to come over?”
The offer is tempting. My body craves the release sex offers, but my heart is too wrapped up in Adaline to allow me to give in. “I can’t. I’m kinda seeing someone.”
“Oh. Okay, well . . .” She digs around in her purse, but her keys are already in her hand. “You know where to find me,” she says as she walks away.
Before I change my mind, I rush back to my apartment, lock the door, and head straight to my room.
With my phone in my hand, I lie back down, and open the internet porn site I’ve been frequenting lately. It only takes a short second for me to get hard, and my whole body electrifies. My head swims in currents of complete indulgence, and I no longer feel anything other than intoxicated delirium.
All I can see, hear, and taste is the hunger I feed over and over again, but never into abatement. I watch the two girls on the screen of my phone as they get each other off, and I lose myself.
Everything drops out of focus.
The phone falls from my hand, but I can still hear the girls in the video moaning as I surrender all control. My body gives in, shooting its release onto my stomach while my head spins in utter haziness. With my eyes clenched shut, I see her innocent smile, and when I let go of myself, the weight of shame bears down on my ribs.
Taking in deep breaths, my vision clears, and I come crashing down fast, feeling like a total asshole.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
I stop the video and toss my phone aside when I get out of bed to clean myself off. I grab a drink of water from the kitchen and then fall onto the couch with immense guilt for pushing Adaline tonight for my own selfish reasons.
I knew she probably wasn’t ready for what we did, but I talked her into it, and I feel like the biggest piece of shit for doing so. My need to get off took precedence over her, and I hate myself for that. This girl isn’t ready for all the things I need but have deprived myself of, and I wonder why I can’t just be satisfied.
I don’t know what to do with the urgency that taunts me throughout the day, and it’s beyond my tolerance of frustration. I’ve always thought of myself as a typical horny teenager, but I’m beginning to wonder if there might be something wrong with me.
I’m starting to think that the feelings I have for Adaline are making my cravings worse. It’s hard to be around her and not be turned on, so I douse her in as much affection as she’ll let me give, but I’m probably coming off needy. If so, she hasn’t mentioned it or told me to stop, so I’m not sure it’s a problem.
The ringing of my cell in my bedroom drags me away from my thoughts.
“Hey, did you—”
“Kason!” Adaline’s voice is strangled with horror. “Someone broke into my house!”
“What?”
“The glass in the front door is shattered.”
“Get out of there,” I shout in my own panic as I search for a pair of shoes.
“I’m back in my car.” The fear in her voice causes my heart to pound, and I can hear her struggling to breathe. “What do I do?”
“Hang up and call nine-one-one. Do not get out of your car, okay? I’m on my way right now.”
I pull on my shoes, toss on a T-shirt, and fly out the door. Driving as fast as I can, I weave through town and slam on the gas when I hit the interstate. Adrenaline courses through my veins as the fear in her voice replays in my head. I can’t get to her fast enough, knowing she’s there all by herself with her mother away on a business trip. I fucking hate that she’s always alone.
When I turn the bend on Bayshore, the night glows in flashes of red and blue from the handful of cop cars that line the street in front of her house. I throw my car in park and bolt down the sidewalk and up the driveway where I see her sitting on the front steps, crying.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, son,” an officer shouts as he rushes toward me with his arm outstretched. “You live here?”
“This is my girlfriend’s house.” I barely get out the words before Adaline runs into my arms. Her entire body shudders as she bursts into tears, and I can’t hold her tight enough.
“Are you okay?”
“The house is destroyed.”
“Have you called your mom?”
“I left a voice mail.” She lets go of me, covers her face with her hands, and drops her head against my chest as she starts to cry again. “She’s going to be so mad at me, Kason.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t set the alarm. She gets on to me all the time because I’m always forgetting to set it.”
“Miss Rees.”
The both of us look up as another officer approaches.
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
She holds on to me as we follow the police officer up the walkway to the front steps. There are a few other officers walking around the perimeter of the house, photographing the damage, and when we sit, he begins asking Adaline about where she’s been, what time she got home, and if she has any ideas on who could’ve broken in.
“I don’t know,” she tells the officer. “We just moved here not too long ago.”
“Where are your parents?”
“I live with my mom. She’s in Jacksonville for work right now.”
She gives the officer her mother’s cell number, and after a few more questions, he heads over to his squad car.
“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” she says, dropping her head to her knees, and as I’m rubbing her back, her cell begins to ring. “It’s my mom.”
Obviously scared to take the call, her eyes dart to me in an unspoken plea for help. I take the phone from her and answer it on speakerphone.
“Cheryl, it’s Kason.”
“Kason, is everything okay? Where’s Ady?”
Fear chokes Adaline again, and another tear falls down her splotchy face. “She’s right here. You’re on speakerphone.”
“What’s going on?”
I nudge Adaline to talk, but she cowers. “The house was broken into tonight. Adaline’s pretty shaken up.”
“Oh my god. What do you mean the house was broken into? Have the police been called?” she rattles off in disbelief.
“Yeah. The police are here,” I tell her. “They just got done questioning Adaline.”
“Is she okay? Where is she?”
Hearing the alarm in her mother’s voice, I urge Adaline again to talk to her, and she gives in, saying, “I’m okay, Mom.”
“Ady, what happened? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I came home and freaked out when I saw the glass on the front door had been shattered. I don’t know how bad it is because they won’t let me inside.”
“I can’t believe this,” she says, her voice in panicked shock. “But you’re okay?”
“I’m scared,” she tells her mom, and I tuck her under my arm.
“I know, dear. I feel awful that I’m so far away.” She takes a pause before asking, “Is there an officer I can speak with?”
“Yeah. Hold on.” I drop my arm from around Ady’s shoulder and walk over to the cop that was just questioning us. “Her mother’s on the phone.”
He takes the call, and I return to Adaline, doing what I can to help calm her, but her nerves are shot. I watch as the two officers who were taking pictures of the house head inside, and after a few more minutes, I’m given back the phone.
“Ady?”
“Yeah, Mom.”
“Do you have a girlfriend you can stay with for the night?”
“All my friends are guys.”
Her mom releases a heavy sigh. “I don’t want you in that house until I can get home.”
The way Adaline is clinging to me tells me everything I need to know. “Adaline can stay with me.”
“This is a mess,” she mutters to herself.
“I can promise you have nothing to worry about,” I try to assure and then skate the line of honesty when I tell her, “She’ll be there with me and my mom. Everything will be fine,” because I know the only place Adaline is going to feel safe tonight is with me.
She’s hesitant to respond, but when she does, she agrees. “Ady, I’ll call you as soon as I book a flight back home, okay?”
After a couple more minutes, we hang up and ask the officer if we can go inside to pack an overnight bag. He calls one of the officers inside the house and instructs them to gather the evidence from upstairs first so they can allow us up there.
It takes about an hour until we are let inside, but we are told not to touch anything we don’t have to and to be quick. Adaline gasps when we step inside and take in the destruction. The house is ransacked and artwork and electronics are missing.
Adaline reaches for my hand, her face veiled in fright as I lead her up the stairs.
“Kason,” she utters the moment she sees her room has been destroyed.
“Let’s get your things and get out of here.”
I go to her closet and grab a duffle bag as she begins pulling clothes from her dresser with petrified tears falling down her face. Her whole room is a mess—her television was ripped out of the wall and all her picture frames are shattered on the floor. I grab a few of her toiletries from the bathroom, and when she zips the bag, she turns to me, banding her arms around my waist.
“I’m so sorry, babe.”
“What if I would’ve been here?”
“I don’t even want to think about that.” I take the bag from the dresser. “Come on. Let’s go.”
We have to wait around until the officers collect all the evidence they need, and it’s after midnight when they board up the door and we are able to leave. I pull Adaline’s Mercedes into the garage, and she sets the alarm before we get into my car and head back to my place. Exhaustion settles in and the drive is silent.
It isn’t until we walk into the apartment that she finally speaks. “Ironic that I feel safer on your side of town.”
I give her a weak smile.
When we’re changed for bed and she’s back in my arms, I’m unable to loosen my hold on her. What if she had been home? I go to the worst-case scenario and pull her in even closer.
“Did you lock the door?”
“Yeah, babe. I did.”
This girl has found a way to burrow herself inside my soul, and the very thought of something bad ever happening to her jolts my heart into arrhythmic poundings. I never thought I would depend on someone the way I find myself depending on her. Her love is the reason I’m stronger, but she’s also the reason I’m getting weaker.
She’s soft and gentle but so damn powerful. It’s only after she’s finally able to fall asleep, her body relaxing against mine, that I slip on that weakness. I close my eyes and try to think about anything other than her, but like fangs in flesh, there’s no hiding. The craving overpowers me, and I’m so damn frustrated that I’m unable to tame the monstrous urge that gnaws through skin and bone, eating straight to my nerves.
I slip my arm from underneath her, and I feel sick to my stomach when I sneak out of the room to go jerk off in the bathroom.
When I return, I watch her as I stand in the doorway, and I’m nowhere near close to feeling satisfied. All I want is to spend the night with her in my arms, but the very thing I want is the very thing that tortures me, and it makes me want to throw my fist through a wall. The closer I get to her, the worse I feel, but the better I feel, too. It’s a goddamn web of heaven and hell I’m trapped in.
I go back to the bathroom and lock the door, determined to expel the poison that’s keeping me from enjoying this night with her. I get myself off for the third time tonight, but I don’t stop there. With my getting to spend an entire night with her in my bed, I feel manic and restless. Since I’m still hard, I keep going and beat off until I cum again. Emotions swelter as the room caves in on me, and I pull my shorts up, sit on the lid of the toilet, and allow myself to recover before I keep going.
My body breaks out in a cold sweat as I battle with myself to find another release. But this time, there’s no orgasm that comes with it, which only furthers my frustrations, and I swear to god, I feel like crying as I clench my teeth and work to get myself hard. I need to get this out of me, but I’m trapped in an unrelenting labyrinth. My head falls into my hands, winded breaths wreak havoc on my system, and I hate myself for not being able to get my shit together enough to go sleep next to her.
When I finally open the door and go into my room, I pick up my phone to see I’ve been locked away in my festering prison for almost two hours. I slip back into bed with Adaline, and my dick aches so badly you’d think it would be impossible to crave another orgasm, but I do. This time, I’m able to restrain myself because I’m so sore that the thought of jerking off makes me cringe. In my pain, I’m able to find a small sense of relief as I curl my body around hers from behind, close my eyes, and silently love her through the dirty shame that stains me from deep within.