With a couple of deep breaths I held myself together.
Sophie went still. And when I dropped my chin, I found her staring at me. “Okay?” she mouthed.
“Sure,” I lied, snapping my hips forward, taking myself deep.
The sudden force meant that Sophie had to grab the dresser to brace herself. I liked that, so I did it again. This is what she wanted, after all. It’s just sex, she’d said.
It’s just sex. It’s just sex.
Repeating that would be the only way to keep my eyes dry. “This what you wanted?” I grunted.
“Yes,” she gasped. Her knuckles were white where she held the dresser, and her eyes were shut. “More.”
“I got more.” With every thrust I heard myself give a breathy grunt.
“Jude,” she moaned, and I gritted my teeth.
See? I could have raw, angry sex with the love of my life. Slowing things down, I held onto her hips, my wet cock gliding slowly in and out. It’s just sex. But it was so sweet I knew I couldn’t last much longer. “You want my hands on you?” I murmured.
“Yessss,” she whispered, her heavy-lidded eyes finding me in the mirror again.
“Yeah? Where.” Sophie whimpered, pushing her ass back to meet me. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. Where do you want me to touch you?” I dug my fingers into the flesh of her hips. “Here?”
She shook her head clumsily.
I’d had enough of her sweater dress. I tugged and she lifted her arms off the dresser so I could yank that sucker over her head. There was only a little black bra underneath, and I had it off and flung away a few seconds later. There was something nice and dirty about getting her so naked while I was still dressed. In the mirror her tits bounced with every one of my thrusts, and I groaned at the sight of it.
“Touch me.” Her voice was a throaty gasp, and I had to grit my teeth against the urge to come.
“Where?” I grunted. My body was on fire. With one hand I yanked my shirt over my head just so I wouldn’t burn to the ground. But that was a mistake, because now so much of Sophie’s skin touched mine. In the mirror, I could see my body straining against hers.
Fuck.
Sophie grabbed one of my hands and yanked it down her body until my fingers grazed her wet clit. I began to touch her, swirling my fingertips over that swollen bud, dipping down to coat myself in her wetness before teasing her again.
“Harder,” she begged.
“Yes, ma’am.” This sex slave was glad to oblige. I was so hard it hurt. My balls ached for release. I braced one hand on the dresser beside hers and pumped hard into her. The other hand I curved around her sex, my fingers sliding against all that was left of our once golden connection. I could feel the force of my dick hammering home. She had once been all mine, and I’d squandered it.
Bearing down, I reached for the end of my pain. I was approaching the point of no return, and I no longer cared about anything but release.
“Oh,” Sophie sobbed. I felt her shudder beneath me. She sagged against the dresser, moaning.
Someone bellowed, and it must have been me. Jesus fuck. Release roared through me and the room swam with the force of it.
Then we were both bent over the dresser, half ruined and breathing hard. With the last bit of my energy I wrapped an arm around Sophie’s waist and dragged her backward three steps until we both toppled onto the bed. I kicked off my jeans because I was too hot and too sensitive to have anything touching my body.
With a sigh, Sophie rolled onto what used to be her side of the bed, her body curled so that she faced the door. We’d ended up exactly where I hadn’t wanted us to land, slotting ourselves right into position in both my bed and my memory.
But I was too spent to mind very much. I was still coming down from a powerful orgasm—the body’s best natural drug. Endorphins smoothed out my ragged edges, leaving me limp and peaceful. Sophie’s legs were tangled with mine, and without thinking I stroked the arch of her foot with my own. A silent minute passed and then another. Sleep was about to become a real possibility when I saw Sophie’s back contract sharply. I put my hand on it and felt her move again. A jerk. A sob.
She was crying absolutely silently.
Acting on instinct, I hiked my body closer to hers, tucked her hips into my groin and dropped an arm over her waist. It was the classic position for offering comfort. Too bad I’d fucked up both our lives so completely three and a half years ago that I had no meaningful comfort to offer.
Her next sob was not at all silent. It was a raw, primal sound.
And it tore me right in half.
“Shh,” I said, kissing her shoulder. That was all I had for her. A “shh.” Useless.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I shouldn’t have come.”
I couldn’t really disagree. She shouldn’t be here in my room or in my life. Crying was a pretty sane reaction. “I know it’s hard. Some shit is just sad, and there’s nothing you can do.” I felt my own failure in my chest like a knife.