My stomach quivered as he started to unbuckle his belt, his movements confident and sure. As I stepped over to the bed my breathing grew choppy and uneven.
“Face away from me,” he went on, a direct order.
My stomach flipped. I did as he asked until I was on all fours, completely exposed to him. The fact that I couldn’t see him, could only hear the soft shuffle of fabric as he undressed, only heightened my sensitivity. My thighs trembled at the idea of him looking at me like this, taking all of me in.
A second later a warm hand touched my hip, moving up and over my ribs to cup my breast. I whimpered as he bent over me, pressing his lips to the base of my spine. His other hand slid between my legs, his fingers touching my wet folds. He hissed a breath, and his hand left me. There was some movement, and then I felt the heat of his cock.
Panic flared and I tensed just as he whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m wearing a rubber. I’d never do that to you, Reya.”
Relief flooded me and I moaned when he pinched my nipple, his hand drifting up to grip my hair in a fist. He tugged just enough to turn my head, my eyes meeting his in the dimly lit room. There was an edge of pain as he tugged a little harder, then positioned himself more firmly between my thighs. He never broke eye contact as he slowly pushed inside me. I cried out at the invasion. It had been a while since I had sex and warmth suffused my skin with a light sheen of perspiration.
He never dropped my gaze, his hips moving in a tantalising rhythm as he thrust in and out, building to an exquisite crescendo. This was hard, brutal fucking, but a part of me also felt like we were making love, even though there wasn’t much that was romantic about it. Trev’s fingers splayed out on my stomach, holding me in place as his thrusts quickened brutally.
His hand moved down until he found my clit and began to rub. I moaned loudly and he tugged on my hair, causing a sharp burst of pain to shoot through my scalp. It mixed with the intense, building pleasure he elicited with his skilled hand. His cock hit every perfect spot inside me, and combined with his deft manipulation of my clit, I came with a sharp, breathless cry.
“Fuck, you feel incredible, so perfect,” he groaned and thrust harder until his body grew still and tense. I felt his heat when he came with a muffled swearword, his teeth biting into my neck.
I shivered when his orgasm subsided and he pulled me down onto the bed. I lay on my back, sated, while he pulled the covers back to draw them over us.
“Did you feel that, too?” he whispered, but I was too overwhelmed to answer. Not to mention, I wasn’t exactly sure what he was referring to. My head was too foggy to think straight.
“Did you feel it, Reya?” he whispered again.
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled sleepily as he spooned me under the duvet. His hand drew lazy circles on my hip and my eyes drifted closed. I was losing consciousness when I heard him continue with a note of awe, “I never knew it could be like that.”
The morning light woke me while Trev snored quietly at my back. The room smelled . . . well, it smelled like sex. The previous night’s events flooded my memory, an elastic band systematically loosening and tightening around my gut. Needless to say, I had mixed emotions about the whole thing.
On the one hand, Trev had ignored me all week and instead of punishing him for it, I’d given him exactly what he wanted. I was a weak, lily-livered excuse for a woman. But on the other hand, he had confessed he was in love with me. It was difficult to stand your ground when a man like Trev confesses his love. Your brain screamed pointlessly at you not to give in, while your heart melted at his feet. Your heart said his love was real, but your brain called it a passing fancy.
So yeah, mixed emotions.
I climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom, needing a shower to clear my head. When I stepped under the warm spray, I still wasn’t sure how I felt about anything. Through the years, I’d imagined countless scenarios where Trev finally came clean about his feelings, and now that it had happened I was experiencing some sort of immeasurable disappointment.
Maybe I’d been unlucky in love so many times that I was now too cynical to believe his love was real.
I was lathering shampoo into my hair when the bathroom door opened and Trev came inside. My pores drew tight when he wordlessly stepped into the shower behind me, still naked from the night before, and curled his arms around my waist.
“Hey,” he murmured, his entire bare body pressed into my back. It felt surreal. I was naked in the shower with Trev. I was naked in the shower with my best friend.
“Morning,” I answered back, quietly nervous.
Trev chuckled, his voice a husky rasp. “Don’t go shy on me now, Reya. I’ve only just gotten started.”
His hard cock pressed into the base of my spine. I was entirely too aroused and ached for him to slide inside me. I knew he couldn’t though, not without a condom, and I wasn’t sure how well condoms worked in the shower anyway. I’d never tried.
“I want to fuck you again,” he said, his mouth on my earlobe. He licked and sucked until I was a melting puddle of horny goo. “You know, say good morning properly,” he went on.
I want that, too. More than anything.
“I’m trying to shower,” I replied croakily.
“Then let me help.”
I went quiet as his hands journeyed about my naked, wet skin. He explored without hesitation, every aching, needful inch of me. He grabbed the bottle of shower gel and squirted some into his palm, then made a lather before rubbing his hands over my shoulders, down my back, and around to massage my breasts.
I whimpered when he finally dipped down between my legs and rubbed. I arched my spine, moving against his erection instinctively as his hips rutted into the soft cushion of my arse. We came almost in unison. I was just a few seconds behind him.
I wasn’t sure why we were so attuned to one another sexually. Maybe it was because we’d known each other for such a long time. There was comfort there, an inherent knowledge of the other’s needs and rhythms.
By the time we left the shower I was ready to go back to sleep—sexually exhausted. I put on a robe and handed Trev a towel to dry off. I left him in the bathroom and went out to see what there was for breakfast. His phone started ringing and I picked up his jacket to search the pockets. My hand met something plastic, but it wasn’t his phone. Pulling it out, I found a jar of pills. My eyes scanned the label before I could stop myself. It was a medication called Strattera, but I didn’t recognise it.
Trev must’ve heard his phone, because he stepped out of the bathroom. He stopped when he saw what I was holding, his mouth forming a thin line. Whoever was calling must’ve been put through to voicemail because the ringing stopped.
“I wasn’t snooping. I was looking for your phone,” I blurted awkwardly, and he came and took the pills off me. I noticed the container was pretty full.
“Selective noradrenaline re-uptake inhibitors,” he said quietly, his eyes downcast.