Raw

  Suddenly, my ass cheeks spread and I feel a tongue swipe my folds. Clenching my hands together tightly, my eyes widen and I gasp, “Oh God!”

  He barks, “Not a fucking word. Or I stop.”

  Biting my lip, I whimper but obey. As always.

  Gripping my butt tighter, he pulls me apart; his tongue prods my entrance and my legs shake. The wet heat from his tongue is almost too much to bear. Pushing further into me, his nose bumps my puckered back entrance as he laps away at my slit.

  He’s making out with my pussy as if he would my mouth.

  So enthusiastically. So determinedly. So demandingly.

  It’s heaven. I’ve never felt more wanted in all my life.

  He asks, “You like that, baby?”

  Immediately, I still. This is a trap.

  I’ve come to know Twitch. He’s a trickster. A cheat and a swindler.

  But I’m suddenly nervous and sweating bullets.

  When I don’t answer, he utters approvingly, “Good girl.”

  And even though I hate that term, coming from him, it means something to me. My body slumps into the desk in relief, and he continues to eat me as if I were his last meal.

  This is what oral sex should be. Uninhibited and freeing. Not awkward and clumsy, as I’ve always had.

  His tongue slides up my pussy until the firm, wet warmth meets a place I haven’t yet explored sexually, and he licks again and again. This is new to me. I’m not sure how I should be feeling, but my stomach is clenched and my back is rigid. I whisper, “Stop.”

  But, of course, he doesn’t. What he does do is massage my ass cheek with one hand, and reach around with the other. His fingers meet my clit, and he strokes it slowly and gently. Almost lovingly.

  The sensations start to change. I’m no longer uncomfortable. In fact, I’m burning up.

  My breathing deepens, and I begin to move against his fingers. He stiffens his tongue and presses into me.

  My insides flip and twist.

  This shouldn’t feel so good!

  My pinkie fingers hold each other tighter. My body trembles.

  He pushes in further, and his breath warms the skin there. Pushing back into him, he growls, licks once more, then stands.

  I just know he’s going to fuck me. And I could cry from happiness.

  I hear the zipper lower. It sounds so loud in the still room. But when his cock touches me, my eyes widen and I push forward away from him.

  Smacking my ass hard with an open palm, he makes me wince and jump. He reaches out to grip my hair, tight, and pulling it gently, he states, “You want this.”

  Do I? Do I really? I’m not so sure.

  The head of his cock settles at my back entrance once more, and he mutters, “Now’s your chance to get away. You’re so sure I won’t hurt you? Are you really stupid enough to stay?”

  Fuck!

  This is a goddamn test! And I’m going to fail. Dammit!

  I’m not ready for this. Not this way. Any other time, maybe, but not now.

  A tear slips out the side of my eye and I say unconvincingly through a shuddering breath, “I trust you.”

  Where that came from, I’m not sure. But it’s been said now. It’s too late to turn back.

  I feel his body go rigid as he hisses, “You made the wrong choice.”

  The very tip of him enters me and I whimper. It hurts a little, but my entrance is so slick from his saliva that it might just be the shock of it. My breath hitches as another tear escapes me. He sighs behind me, and gripping my hands at my back in his, he leans forward and it pushes his cock a little further inside me. It stings and my eyes close, brows bunched in pain.

  He whispers, “If you don’t want this to hurt as much as it could, you need to push down and out. Now.”

  As soon as he finishes speaking, he slowly pushes in, and doing as I’m told, I push out and back into him. The balls of his piercing go in without issue. My stomach coils with sensations. I’ve never felt so full before. It doesn’t hurt, just stings a little. He stills a moment, breathing heavily. With his free hand, he strokes my hair and says gently, “Good girl.”

  Not a minute passes before he releases my hands to grip my upper arms behind my back tightly. He murmurs, “Hold on, baby.”

  And then it starts.

  He pushes as deep as he can once, pulls out a little, then thrusts into me. White spots blur my vision.

  Driving into me with a steady pace, all I can do is hold on as I’m ridden. I’m so confused by the sensations. It feels amazing. But then, everything with Twitch feels amazing.

  The edge of the desk works my clit with every thrust, and almost out of nowhere, I feel myself tighten as my breath heaves. I clench around him and he groans, “Fuck, Angel. Do it. Let go.”

  Unable to hold it any longer, I let go.

  My body goes rigid and I feel as though I’m falling. Off the highest mountain. Into an ocean of pure ecstasy.

  I pulse with every thrust, and bite my tongue to stop myself from crying out.

  Just as quickly as it comes, it’s gone. I’m left limp, resenting the person I’m being ridden by.

  How does he do it? I’m so easily manipulated by him.

  Eyes stinging, I close my eyes tightly, embarrassed by my want of him. Crying silently into the desk, my anger rises.

  Suddenly, he stills. Groaning, warmth fills my behind and I bite my lip to stop myself from sobbing.

  A moment later, he gently pulls out of me, handing me a bunch of tissue. Without asking, I hold the tissue where I’m likely to drip from, and walk over to his personal bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  Taking my time to clean myself, once finished, I lower the lid on the toilet and sit a while.

  Sniffling, I dab at my eyes and wonder why this man is doing this to me. My life was good before I met him. Now it’s chaos. And what’s worse is I’m letting it happen.

  My mind throws a word out to me that I bury deep.

  And although I don’t want it to be true, I know in my heart that for some fucked up reason, I want Twitch, regardless of how damaged he is.

  I came here today to find some form of clarity.

  Sometimes, when you look close enough at a person hoping to find said clarity, the image of that person becomes so hazy, so distorted, that all you’re left with is unclear thoughts and more questions.

  This is what happens when I try to understand Twitch.

  There is little to no predictability with this man. I know he is damaged. I know he is complicated. But I can’t help but wonder what would happen to him if I deserted him. But that’s just a thought.

  A stupid one.

  I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him.

  He needs me.

  You need him.

  He needs me more. And I’ll be there for him.

  Nodding at my internal pep talk, I make my way out of the bathroom to find Twitch back behind his desk, typing away as if nothing happened. I open my mouth to speak, when he utters, “Like I said, I’m busy. Next time, make an appointment.”

  I stand there in complete silence. My heart cracks.

  Was I just dismissed?

  The more I stand there, the more my anger builds. Just when I tell myself to turn, leave, and never come back, I shriek unexpectedly, “God, you are such a fuck up!”

  “God, you are such a fuck up!”

  My head snaps up, brows knitting. She pauses, panting, then, “And I hate myself for loving you.”

  What did she just say?

  Her lips quiver and she chokes out, “Because I can’t give up on you.”

  A single tear trails down her cheek.

  Hold up. Back up. What did she just say?

  Lexi loves me? Since when?

  Standing slowly, I make my way over to her, searching her tearful face. When we’re almost toe-to-toe, I lift my hand to brush her cheek. But she flinches.

  And it guts me.

  His hand comes up to cup my cheek.

 
“Don’t, babe. Don’t look at me like that. Not gonna hurt you. Not like that.”

  I don’t know why, but somehow, I already know this.

  He adds on a whisper, “I’d kill anyone who tried.”

  Immediately, I respond with, “I know.”

  What I don’t add is, ‘And it scares the shit out of me.’

  Twitch’s eyes peer down into mine; knowing what’s coming, I tilt my face up as he lowers his to mine and takes my lips in a demanding kiss.

  And that kiss conveys so much more than words ever could.

  I hate myself for loving this man.

  Kissing Lexi with everything I have, I can almost feel her love flowing through me.

  I feel drunk. Love drunk.

  Placing my forehead on hers, I whisper, “You gotta promise to never leave me. I-I…you just gotta.”

  Her response is, “You have to promise to try to love me back. What you’re doing to me…that’s not how you treat a person you love, Twitch.”

  I’ve loved you since you were six.

  Kissing her once more, I tell her without hesitation, “If you promise to never leave me, I will love you. And be good to you. I’ll treat you like a queen.”

  My queen.

  I heard somewhere that a king only bows down to his queen.

  And I’m bowing down to Lexi.

  My chest aches. I don’t know if I like this love thing.

  She whispers the magic words, “I promise I won’t leave you.”

  And just like that…

  …Lexi became mine.

  Sitting at my desk, back at work, I chew on the end of my pen and recall the rest of our conversation today. I should be working, but my mind is trained on one thing. Twitch. Our talk was short, but it felt like so much was put out there in such few words.

  He kissed me again and again, then asked, “You’re mine? Just mine?”

  And the way he asked, with such insecurity in his voice, was as if he didn’t know the answer to his questions. And it calmed me to know he was as uncertain about this as I was. His questions lacked his usual confidence and sounded almost juvenile. I told him honestly, “If you let me in and you promise to try, for me, then yes. I’m yours.”

  Pulling back and looking down at me, his eyes crinkled in the corners. “So we’re doing this? You’re my girlfriend?”

  Blushing, I dipped my chin, “I-I guess so. That’s usually how these things go. I know you don’t love me…”

  He cut in with, “I will love you.”

  “…yet, but it doesn’t matter to me. I’m willing to make this work if you think you can let me in enough to understand you. That’s all I need, Twitch. Help me understand you.” I whispered by the shell of his ear, “Just let me in.”

  Wrapping his arms around me, he held me tightly, buried his face into my neck, and mumbled, “I’ll try, baby. I’ll try.”

  And I believed him.

  How this all happened so quickly, I really have no idea.

  One second I came to offer Twitch help – help he desperately needs – and the next, I’m losing my anal V-card. Then I’m yelling, and finally, I’m Twitch’s girlfriend.

  Chuckling humorlessly, I shake my head at myself.

  This could be the biggest mistake of my life.

  Or it could be the most perfect prize. One you’ve earned.

  There’s something about Twitch.

  He’s just…raw.

  Everything about him is raw. And gritty. And unbound.

  He’s a raging fire. And I’m a fragile moth fluttering into the flame. Sooner or later, I’m going to get burned. I know this.

  Will I even survive the heat?

  How can I trust this man after everything we’ve been through in such a short time?

  Without skipping a beat, my mind provides the answer.

  Easy.

  Spending the afternoon revisiting my decision to be involved with a man like Twitch made my mind turn to mush.

  I have an ethical responsibility within my sector to help all that need it. I know Twitch needs help, even if he doesn’t believe that. It’s no real secret that man has anger issues that borderline violent. I wonder what I’m getting myself into. He has secrets. Secrets that run deep.

  Thinking of the things that could have possibly happened to him makes my heart squeeze.

  People don’t turn into the kind of person Twitch is for no reason at all.

  Something terrible has happened for him to be this way. And I’ll be there, waiting patiently for when he finally wants to reveal those reasons. Something tells me that by giving him the promise he all but begged for, to not leave him, his trust in me has risen to a new level.

  Twitch asked me to meet him at my place when I was done with work. He said he was taking the afternoon off and we’re going to be staying at his house tonight.

  Everything inside of me told me not to go. To not be at his beck and call. That I needed to be independent.

  But all I could think about was how much lost time we had to make up for.

  Truthfully, learning about Twitch is more important to me than anything.

  And tonight is going to be the night.

  I text him back, telling him that I would meet him and that he’d better be ready to talk.

  And talk is what we did.

  I found him in my room when I got home, and at seeing my selection of underwear, he curled his lip in disgust. “Seriously, babe?”

  “What?” I asked.

  He took a pair of my pink cotton panties and stretched them between his fingers. Making a slingshot with them, he flung them across my room, then stalked over to the bed.

  Sitting, his eyes took in my body as if he were undressing me with his eyes. And it made me a little uncomfortable. I’m not used to being scrutinised so close up.

  He pulled me towards him so I stood between his legs. His hands travelled up my sides, then over my breasts and back down. He muttered vacantly, “This body.”

  Snapping out of his daze, he offered, “A body like this is a gift. So it needs to be gift-wrapped. I like my gifts to be wrapped in sexy.” Trailing a fingertip from my belly button down to the top of my mound, he muttered, “I like my women in silk and lace, frills and bows. I don’t do pretty, but I like women who do pretty.”

  Looking up at me, he stated, “You do pretty, you won’t get rid of me.”

  For Twitch, that was kind of sweet. And very macho. And seriously sexist.

  The feminist in me booed and hissed, while the horny teenager in me slumped against a wall and sighed dreamily.

  Not wanting him to know that, I teased, “You’re my stalker. I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried.”

  His lips twitched. “I like Lexi. She’s funny. Not a huge fan of Alexa, though. She kinda sucks.”

  I was confused. “But I’m Alexa. And Lexi. We’re the same person.”

  He grinned hugely, “No. You’re not. Just like I’m Twitch sometimes, but I’m also…” My eyes widened.

  Please tell me. Open up to me. Please.

  His smile faltered only a second before he said, “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

  Home.

  With Twitch.

  That felt so right that my mind wasn’t able to form words. Mouth parted, I simply nodded, and off we went.

  Home.

  Spending the afternoon with Lexi was crazy.

  It was crazy because I don’t remember a time in my life when I laughed so much or smiled so hard. The woman is a serious clown. She’s adorably goofy. And I love that.

  I never thought it could be this way with the two of us.

  She says she loves me. And when she said it in anger, I knew it was true. I can’t tell her how I feel about her yet. I need her to know me – all of me – before I can tell her that. I have my reasons.

  We spent the day outdoors. She dressed herself in the bright yellow sundress I bought her, after an argument which lasted almost an hour about me buying her things. She lectured me about people
starving around the world, and about kids living on the streets. She only gave up her argument when I blurted, “I know, Lex. I was a street kid. So I get it.” Her face turned soft and her argument died. I added, “Just wanted to do something nice for my girl, okay?”

  Standing by her dresser, she answered quietly, “Okay, honey.”

  Like I said, I always win.

  I showed her some of my favorite places in the city, including a small Italian café where we had something light for dinner. She said smiling, “You like Italian food, huh?”

  Leaning back in my chair, I told her, “I think it’s got something to do with my heritage. I love Italian food. It’s my favorite.”

  She smiled harder. I’m sure it had something to do with the fact that I was slowly giving her information about myself. “Okay, then. I’ll remember that,” she uttered.

  Hand-in-hand, we walked all over, mostly in silence, but every now and then explaining to the other what places we liked and why.

  I found out that Lexi loves Mexican food. The spicier the better. She also told me that she made a mean cocoa, as long as I didn’t mind a lot of booze in it. She mentioned her brother, which held my attention. She said he was a great brother and was extremely protective. When I asked where he was, she pulled her emotions back inside of her and told me blankly that she hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but the last time she checked, he was back in the US.

  It made my chest ache for her.

  The funny thing was that even though I knew everything she was telling me, it sounded like brand new information coming from her mouth. Like the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her friends, Nikki and Dave.

  Nikki and Lexi were roommates in University. Dave happened to attend the same University and worked at the campus coffee shop. Dave being gay was hassled on a daily basis, and one day spilled coffee on a male customer. Not thinking, Dave grabbed a handful of napkins, and apologizing, started to wipe the coffee off the customer. That was when the customer called Dave a faggot, knocked him to the ground, and started laying into him. Lexi and Nikki watched in horror for all of ten seconds before they took their book bags to the man and managed to knock him out cold. Smiling, she explained, “We were arrested, but the charges were dropped. Dave came to visit us the next day in our dorm, and started the conversation with ‘well, aren’t you all just a bunch of crazy bitches!’” She laughed openly, “And we’ve been friends ever since, even though Nikki and Dave have this stupid rivalry going on.”