Author Anonymous: A True Story

“The only way I could get you to say you love me was by telling you to lie to me.” He speaks through the bullet hole I shot through his heart. “There’s nothing left. I can’t pull on your heartstrings when they’re no longer attached to anything.”

  The door closes, and there’s no doubt in my mind that Landon can hear my sobbing wails as he walks down the hall to the elevators. I’m sure everyone on this floor can hear the excruciating pain ripping out of my chest.

  I fist the sheets that are covered in our sex—covered in our goodbye—and lose myself in a dark well of debilitating agony.

  This year has been a slow walk to the grave I knew I would ultimately land in. And here I am, naked and all alone, waiting for someone to shovel the dirt on me.

  Grabbing a pillow, I shove my face into it and use it to muffle my screams. The sadness hurts too much, and I do what I can to replace it with something else. So I scream harder than I ever have before, shredding my vocal cords. My face burns as I release another piercing shriek, welcoming the razors slicing their way up my throat. I yearn for more of this blistering pain to overshadow the agonizing suffering afflicting me.

  Nothing can save me though.

  Hurling the pillow across the room, I fall onto the bed, curl into a ball, and allow the misery to suffocate me.

  Why even try to dull what I should feel?

  I deserve the crucifixion.

  I’ve been nothing but a silver-tongued devil, lying and deceiving to indulge in self-fulfilling pleasures. Pleasures I had no right to partake in, but did, regardless of morals and vows. I handed my soul to sin, allowed its infection, and ultimately fell in love. To think I deserve anything more than losing everything would only sharpen my horns.

  Minutes fade into hours, fading into darkness, fading into hollowness, turning me into a corpse. My naked body shivers as I stare at the ceiling, limp and lifeless. I barely have enough energy to blink, only doing so when the burning becomes too much from the loss of moisture. And then, like sandpaper to an open wound, I blink.

  I feel on the verge of death, and I’m scared. I don’t want to be forsaken. The thought alone terrifies me, triggering the need for nourishment and consolation. It’s the longing to be taken care of that continues to follow me through life. Because even though I want to give up, I know I can’t. I’m not strong enough to do this on my own. I need to breathe, to fight my way up to the surface’s edge, but these waters are dark and bury me under their weight.

  Rolling to my side, my muscles ache, but I absorb it as I push myself off the bed. I look to the floor at the pile of clothes Landon peeled off of me. The thought of touching them doesn’t seem right, so I make my way over to the closet and toss on a pair of jeans and a top. I don’t give a shit what I look like, I just need to be saved.

  Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t stop myself from looking in the mirror. My whole face is puffy, splotched in redness with swollen eyes that are bloodshot to hell. I run a brush through my hair and eventually tie it up in a knot. I leave everything behind, taking only my hotel keycard.

  With my blurred vision, I have no business getting behind the wheel of my car, so I walk. It’s after three in the morning—the witching hour—and the streets are eerily quiet. The darkness cloaks me in its ink, but I need light, I need warmth, I need Alec. He’s all I have left, and I’ll do anything to get back into his graces.

  Steps fade behind me and soon I’m standing in front of his door, not even remembering how I got here.

  Pressing my palm against that which separates me from him, I ball my fist as fear and loneliness strangle me, and I knock.

  I knock and knock and knock.

  I refuse to allow him to ignore me, so I continue to knock until I hear the click of the lock. The door opens, and there he stands with sleep-stricken eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants.

  “What are you doing here?” he questions with dullness in his voice.

  “You won’t answer my calls or return my texts. Please, Alec, just let me talk to you.”

  He swings the door open, and I step inside the secret oasis he’s welcomed me into for this past year. We’ve shared so many memories here, happy ones and also tristful ones, but no matter good or bad, I cherish them all. The thought of losing all that we’ve worked up to terrifies me, because I don’t know how to survive this on my own.

  I need him and all that he gives so badly that I’m willing to turn a blind eye to the things I know I can’t change in him. I just lost the life I spent thirteen years creating—I can’t lose Alec on top of that.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  Alec stands across the room from me, and I curse the distance. I need this tension and this feud to disappear so we can be good again. I look into the eyes of the man who’s managed to change the trajectory of my life, and I feel my blood thaw from the ice Landon left me with. Whether it’s turning a blind eye or forgiveness, in this moment, I’m willing to let all my doubts and hesitations go. Maybe he’s changing me, or maybe it’s fear that’s changing me, but I no longer care.

  I dig down deep, searching for the right words to say, but there’s no script when it comes to Alec. With everything that’s been stripped from me, I give up the fight and let my heart do the talking.

  “I read a lot of poetry,” I tell him softly as he stands firm with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

  “No. I didn’t know that.”

  “I don’t know why, but looking at you right now reminds me of something Rumi once wrote. It’s been years since I’ve read it, but . . .”

  My words drift as I hang on to my emotions, needing him to hear me without any distraction.

  “Will you tell me?”

  “He said, ‘Somewhere between right and wrong there is a garden. I will meet you there.’”

  Alec’s arms fall to his sides, his whole demeanor changing. He walks toward me, stopping a breath away, standing close enough for my body to soak in his heat, and says, “‘When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about,’” finishing Rumi’s quote.

  “How did you know that?” I ask in surprise.

  “You’re not the only one who has a thing for poetry.”

  He finally touches me, running his hands over my shoulders and down my arms. A touch I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again—a touch that heals.

  I stare up into his eyes, needier than ever. “Why can’t that be us?”

  “It can be. But we can’t be in that garden if you don’t trust me. It only exists in the gray where there’s no questioning or reasoning. It’s accepting things as they are and being at peace.”

  “I was so stupid. And I’m so sorry. I never should’ve doubted you.” My voice, soft but fervent.

  “You hurt me.”

  “I know. And I feel terrible. I had no right to make assumptions or to judge you when you’ve been nothing but transparent with me from the start.” I reach out and brace my hands around the sides of his chest. “I won’t ever question you again.”

  “Are you going to trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sick of your fucking walls.”

  “They’re gone,” I promise, willing to do whatever he asks in order to keep him. “I made my choice.”

  “And?”

  “It’s over with Landon.”

  He takes my face in his strong hands and releases a heavy sigh.

  “I love you, Alec,” I affirm. “And I don’t care if I never hear those words from you. It doesn’t matter anymore because I know you love me.”

  “Every fucking day,” he responds before grabbing me in his arms and kissing me.

  I sling my arms around his neck and he lifts me up, carrying me over to his bed. I’m barraged with a million sensations at once, kissing him open and deep, thieving the breath from his lungs to feed off of. He’s a savage, ripping my shirt off and yanking my bra down. His mouth wraps about my nipple, and he sucks—hard. I
lift my hips off the bed when he rubs my pussy roughly over the denim of my jeans.

  His touches are merciless.

  He needs no permission and he knows it. Exultant in his sexuality, owning every piece of it unforgivingly.

  I never got this from Landon, but I have it with Alec, and it’s everything I’ve ever needed. He’s woken the beast in me but also knows when I’m in need of his tenderness. He reads me well without my having to tell him. And right now, he knows I’m in need of viperous passion after our tumultuous fight, and he gives it to me.

  I push into his hand as he continues to palm me.

  “Greedy,” he says gruffly as I claw at his bare back.

  He rips open the fly to my pants and jerks them off my legs, tossing them across the room. He then grabs me and pulls me up to my knees with him. Our chests heave as he stares at me. “You want my dick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take it out,” he instructs, and I grip the sides of his pants and shove them down to the bent crook of his knees.

  He’s rock fucking hard, tinged in deep pink, ready to bury himself inside me. I can feel the wetness building between my legs, my clit pulsing as blood rushes to my core. Alec’s cock hangs boldly between us, and I can’t take the stalling any more.

  “Fuck me, Alec. Don’t make me wait.”

  His lips curl, and the next thing I know, he’s flipping me over on all fours, slapping my ass, and shoving two thick fingers inside my pussy.

  I cry out in bliss, happy to just have any part of him inside of me, but he doesn’t stay long.

  “You want me to fuck you?”

  With my head hanging down, I beg, “Yes, please.”

  “You want it here?” he questions, thrusting his fingers into me in one swooping force. “Or do you want it here?” he asks as he drags his fingers out of me and slides them up to the pucker of my ass, pushing just the tip of a finger inside me.

  Euphoria washes over me, taking away my ability to think straight. I’m completely lost to ecstasy.

  “Have me however you want me,” I moan, desperate to have him fill me and erase everything I lost when Landon used me and left me. “I’m yours, so take me.”

  His cock lies heavily on my back above my ass as he continues to touch me so intimately. Hunching his body over mine, he takes his finger from me and says with a throaty whisper in my ear, “I’m going to fuck your pretty little cunt, and I want you squeezing my balls when I do.”

  “Alec—God, please,” I mewl.

  His fingers sink into my folds and down to my clit. “You’re so fucking wet.”

  “Yes.”

  The strokes of his expert fingers cause my body to lurch and tremble.

  “Are you done fucking your husband?”

  “Yes,” I respond because I can’t stomach this charade going on any longer. “It’s over. I only ever want your hands on me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “No more sneaking around?”

  “No. It’s just you.”

  “Why?” he goads, needing to hear the words for himself.

  I move past my pride, knowing I’ll never get those words from him. Alec isn’t someone I can force to do anything he doesn’t want to do, so I relinquish the expectation that I can somehow change the unchangeable. Because he’s right, I have to trust him—I have to trust that maybe he knows what I need better than I do. So without reservation, I tell him, “Because it’s you that I love. No one else. Just you, Alec.”

  He takes his cock and holds himself against my opening. “Say it again.”

  “I love you, Alec.”

  Bucking his hips, he forces his way inside me, knocking me forward with unforgiving force. I fist the sheets in my hands as he draws back and then slams himself into me again. With his hands holding on to my shoulders, he fucks me with one powerful thrust after another, grunting like an animal while talking so filthy to me.

  With every penetration, with every word spoken, with every drip of sweat that falls from his body to mine, he stitches me back together. But this time, he uses his threads, knowing he’s strong enough for the both of us.

  Reaching my hand between my legs, I hold him in the palm of my hand. I squeeze and tug with just enough pressure to seesaw between pleasure and pain the way he’s taught me. And I know he’ll continue to teach me and guide me in all aspects of life—always two steps in front of me.

  He wraps an arm around my stomach and pulls me down on top of him. He sits on his heels and leans back, with his hands braced on the bed behind him.

  “Fuck me, Victoria. I want to watch my cock sink in and out of your pussy.”

  Leaning forward with my hands on the mattress, I rise up on my knees before falling down over him.

  “That’s it,” he encourages, and I pick up the pace, bouncing my ass up and down, fucking him as he watches from behind.

  It’s a new position for us, one that I never experienced in all the years with my husband. Alec has turned me upside down and inside out. I can’t even imagine going back to what I used to be before him, because with him, I’m higher than what should be humanly possible. But he makes it possible.

  My body begins to stagger in uneven rhythm as I draw closer to my climax, and I know Alec can feel me when he tells me, “Don’t wait for me. I’m nowhere near done fucking you.”

  “No?” I pant breathlessly.

  “No, baby. Go ahead, I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”

  His words are the same as they were when we first met, when all we had was spending our days masturbating over the phone together. I never would have thought I’d be where I am a year later. Me, head over heels in love with Alec, bent over his dick and exploding in a mind-numbing orgasm. This was never supposed to be me. I was never supposed to be this woman. But I am, and I can’t go on punishing myself for it.

  Before my heart rate can slow, Alec tosses me onto my back, throws my legs open, and covers my pussy with his mouth. Licking, sucking, nibbling. Shoving a finger inside me to lube it in my arousal, he then drags it out of me and pushes it in my ass before taking me back in his mouth.

  My vision swims out of focus, and I close my eyes when they begin to roll in the back of my head.

  “Jesus!” I cry out as I pull fistfuls of his hair.

  He darts his tongue out and begins fucking me with it. The combination of both my holes being filled throws me into the flames of another orgasm, another one that Alec doesn’t join me in. He doesn’t allow me to ride this one out before feeding his cock back inside me.

  “Alec, please—Oh, fuck!” It’s too much intensity building, too much for my body to handle. “Slow—I can’t.” I can’t breathe as another quake erupts, shattering my lungs as I struggle for air when I cum again.

  He doesn’t relent, doesn’t slow his pace. I’m captured beneath him. I can no longer see him behind the sparkling fog, and I panic. I try to push him away, but he’s quick to grab my wrists and pin them down next to my head. “Trust me to know what I’m doing. You’re going to fucking love this.”

  His voice cuts through my panting moans that teeter on agony. As much as I need him to stop, I need him to keep going even more.

  He releases one of my hands, and I cling my arm around his neck, forcing his head down onto mine. “I can’t see you,” I stress but my voice doesn’t sound right.

  “Just a few more minutes. Hang on to me.”

  Every sound hollows into a faraway tunnel, and the moment his fingers are back on my clit, my body convulses in another climax, sending tingles that don’t subside down all four of my limbs.

  Both our bodies are slick with sweat, but it’s no longer me inside my skin.

  “Fuuuck,” Alec grunts before rupturing in his own orgasm, shooting his semen into my body, filling me, warming me. I hold him close, my eyes remaining closed, and time warps from all around me.

  “I need you to focus on my voice, Victoria.”

  All I hear is a ringing echo deep inside my head. Warmth cocoons
me, and I feel myself being lifted.

  “Let me know you can hear me, okay?”

  I nod.

  Is he rocking me?

  “Are you warm enough?”

  I nod. The numbness in my face begins to wane, and I start to feel the heat of his chest against my cheek. He continues to talk to me, asking me questions that require me to respond. Unrelenting tingles prick my hands, and I curl them into my chest.

  “Are they bothering you?”

  This time, when I nod, I’m able to voice a hum, answering with a dreary, “Mmm hmm.”

  I can feel him taking my hands in his and rubbing my palms, eventually releasing the needling pain.

  I’m lifeless in his arms, crumpled in a ball. With muscles depleted, I don’t even try to move. Slowly, I regain my senses, and I nest in the comfort of being cradled in his lap. I take deep, relaxed breaths, savoring the musk of his sweat. Alex lulls me with gentle swaying and fingers massaging my scalp.

  “Are you still with me?”

  “Yes,” I manage to whisper.

  “Can you open your eyes and look at me?”

  They flutter for a moment before I’m able to blink them open. Light filters in, and the first thing I see is that he has me wrapped in a blanket. When I tilt my head up to him, his hair hangs haphazardly, a lock of it fallen onto his forehead.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.”

  When I attempt to sit up, he stops me, saying, “Don’t try to move too much on your own right now. Just let me take care of you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re coming down from subspace, and it’s going to take your body a while to recoup.”

  I repeat his words in my head, still feeling a bit flighty, but I’m able to recall the word “subspace.” It sounds familiar, and I close my eyes, hoping it’ll help me remember where I’ve heard it.

  After a few moments pass, I look to Alec and ask, “You had that on your profile, didn’t you? That’s why I know the word.”

  “Did you like it?” His lips lift in a subtle grin.

  I shake my head, slightly confused with what subspace actually is.