When you just can’t help yourself because you’re hurting and he’s right there and you want him so bad, even though you’re soooooooooo mad at him…
Selina just had a night out with her friends to try and take her mind off Donovan after she dropped off at his house all the stuff that reminded her of him. She’s hurting and trying to move forward. ICYMI you can find it right here.
I’m not as careful as I should be and right now I don’t care.
Soon enough it’s 2am and we exit the club and the noise. The fresh air feels nice on my overheated skin and I realise Lacey is on the phone with Chris organising a pick-up point.
Once he gets there we pile up in his car, Lacey in the front of course.
“Keep your hands to yourself, lady, I’d like to get home in one piece!” I say from the backseat and London laughs.
She’s the first one to get dropped off then it’s my turn. I tell Lacey I’ll be over at some point the next day to pick up my car and bid her and Chris a good night.
I walk into my house and wonder why there’s a glow coming from the lounge. I didn’t go in there this morning before I went to work and I’m sure I turned the lamp off last night after the girls left.
I stop in my tracks when I get to the doorway because Donovan is asleep on my couch. That’s a development I was not expecting. He is wearing the same clothes as when I saw him earlier and looks delicious.
I’m way too drunk to deal with that right now so I decide to ignore this situation and head to my bedroom instead.
I take my clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor while I go pee and brush my teeth and get the shock of my life when I walk back into my room and Donovan is standing by the foot of my bed.
“Fuck! You scared me!” I say, picking up my robe from the chair in the corner and putting it on. I’m not having a conversation at 2.30am while I’m butt naked, even with him.
Particularly with him.
“You don’t have to get dressed on my account,” he starts. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Yeah well, you don’t get to see it anymore. You have a girlfriend now, remember?” I know I’m drunk but I’m starting to wonder if maybe he’s been drinking too. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s nearly 3am. Does your stick insect know you sneaked out?”
“Don’t call her that,” he says without much conviction in his tone.
“This is my house, I’ll call her whatever the fuck I want. You don’t like it, you know where the door is.”
He lets out a tired sigh and sits on the edge of the bed.
“I’m so tired of arguments,” he whispers, lying back on my bed and putting one arm over his face.
I’m still standing by the door wondering what the fuck is going on.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be at my house in the middle of the night.”
Oh, that gets his attention back on me. He sits up, leaning back on his elbows.
“Why are you here, Donovan?” I ask, suddenly feeling exhausted.
I miss him. I miss how easy it was before. Before he hooked up with that skank, before I realised I had feelings, before this mess my personal life has become. And I want to go to bed.
“I don’t know. After you left that box at my house earlier Naomi had a huge fit, mostly about the amount of clothes I’d left at your house over the years.”
“Is she fifteen or something? We’ve been sleeping together for like, three years, and friends for a lot longer, of course you had clothes at my house!”
“That’s what I told her and apparently that was the wrong thing to say.”
That makes me giggle. Dumb bitch. What did she expect?
“Can’t have been very fun for you, I guess.” I try to stop laughing but I can’t.
It’s 3am, I’m very drunk and the man I love is in my room complaining about his girlfriend losing her shit at him because he and I have history. I have to laugh at the absurdity of the situation because I’ve cried enough over this this week.
“It’s not that funny,” he says standing up.
By then I can’t stop laughing.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you expected coming here. She hates me, hates that you and me have history, even though she is the one who stole you from me, and you come crying to me about it? Can you not see the fucking irony here?”
“I can’t talk to you when you’re like that.”
“Too fucking bad,” I tell him, going from laughing to pissed off in under three seconds. “I told you on Monday, you picked her over me, I don’t wanna hear it. You made your choice and I can’t be your person anymore.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I want to know why you’re so intent on erasing me from your life all of a sudden. I thought we were friends. Does that mean nothing to you anymore?”
Oh my fucking god! And I thought I was the oblivious one!
“I can’t be friends with you when your girlfriend hates me. I can’t be friends with you when she has a jealous fit whenever you even talk about me, let alone talk to me.”
My voice is getting louder but I don’t care.
“I can’t be friends with you when it hurts to look at you because you’re not mine anymore. But then maybe you never were. Seems to me I was a dumbass for assuming you were happy with what we had and well, that sure came back to bite me in the ASS!!”
We’re standing about a foot from each other now, both angry as hell at each other and possibly the situation.
I’m taking big breaths in, which proves to be a mistake because he smells so goddamn good it makes me want to moan, and I feel my body starting to respond to his closeness, after five weeks of missing him.
This is bad bad bad.
He doesn’t say anything, he is just standing there staring at me with his expressive brown eyes and I want to scream.
“So instead of having mind-blowing sex with my best friend of 10 years, I’m left frustrated and horny, having to touch myself nearly every night, trying not to think about the fact that some skinny blonde skank gets to have this glorious cock instead of me!” I put my hand on his dick as I say that and realise he’s hard.
Seems the proximity has been affecting both of us…
The bulge in my hand feels familiar and I crave this man so much that I squeeze his cock without consciously making the decision to do so. I see something in his eyes and I feel something inside me snap.
We reach for each other at the same time, the kiss channelling our mutual anger and fueling it as our arms wrap around one another, my body pressed tightly against his.
His cock feels so good, a steel rod against my belly, my pussy clenching madly in anticipation of feeling him inside me again.
I feel his hands grab my butt and I jump up, a well-practiced move, my legs going around his waist, and I moan when I feel his erection pressing along the length of my slit.
He groans, his tongue still fighting with mine for dominance, then manages to walk us to the bed.
We fall on the bed and he’s on top of me; the kiss ends as he reaches between us to undo the belt of my robe.
He pulls the two sides apart, exposing my body to his ravenous gaze for a moment before his mouth closes on one of my nipples, sucking on it hard. I arch against him and cry out, the pleasure from what he’s doing to my nipple making my clit throb and I want more.
His hand finds my other nipple and squeezes it and the dual assault on my sensitive nipples is causing me to writhe under him. My hands are grasping blindly at the bedsheets, his head, his back, pulling on his shirt, desperately seeking his soft warm skin.
He lets go of my nipples just long enough to rear up and pull his t-shirt off then renews his assault, moving his mouth to my other nipple and tugging on it with his teeth while his fingers squeeze and twist and roll my still wet nipple.
I feel crazed, my nails scratching his shoulders, his upper back, not caring if I leave a mark. He was mine first. I know, on a rational level, that we shouldn’t be doing this, he’s with someone else and in the morning, it will no doubt make me feel horrible.
I’ll take this one last fuck and do my best to pretend it brings me closure.
I’ll lie to myself that it didn’t matter, that it is just for old time’s sake.
I’ll remind myself that I can never see him again after this, because it will hurt too much to remember his body against mine, his cock inside me, his weight on me, his gorgeous smile, his delicious scent and the soft feel of his skin.
But right now, I don’t care. Right now he’s mine and that is all that matters.
I’m worried I might cum from nipple stimulation alone, it’s happened a few times in the past. He senses it, of course, and moves away from my chest and down my body.
He gets on his knees on the floor and pulls me to the edge of the bed, burying his face between my thighs before I have a chance to react.
His tongue laps up and down my slit before he gives some attention to my clit. It feels incredible and I cry out with every swipe of his magic tongue, my fingers clawing at the sheets.
I feel his tongue pressing against my hole and my hips buck against his face. My legs spread wide to give him more room and he hooks his arms under my thighs, pulling me closer.
My moans are getting louder as he starts licking my clit and flicking it with his tongue. I can feel my orgasm building up, my clit is throbbing, my pussy clenching, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs as he pulls me closer to his face.
My ass is nearly hanging off the bed, his hold on me so tight that when I cum I can’t arch against him, making my orgasm that much more intense.
My throat is raw from the pleasure scream, my clit still recovering from the skilled onslaught of Donovan’s tongue as I come down from my orgasm when I hear a zipper being pulled down.
A shiver of anticipation goes through me, if he’s taking his pants down, he intends on finishing this and I begin craving him even more.
I feel the head of his cock at my hole, running up and down my slit before slowly pressing into my wet and swollen cunt. He feels huge as he works himself inside me, the walls of my pussy still contracting from the orgasm he just gave me.
He gives a few shallow thrusts and I look up at him to find him gazing down on me.
He pulls nearly all the way out, and I whimper in need, once again afraid he might up and leave, but instead he slams inside me with a loud grunt.
That first thrust sets the tone of our coupling as he starts pounding me into the mattress. His groans match my moans in volume as he leans over me to take my nipple in his mouth again, causing my pussy to squeeze his cock.
My nails are scratching his back as I try to hold on, to hold him close, to keep him there, with me, in me.
Soon he hooks his arms under my shoulders, pulling me down on his cock with every thrust. I feel my second orgasm of the night coming on as my A-spot takes a battering and I love every second of it.
I dig my nails into his back as I get closer, and suddenly remember the dream I had the other night. I’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming but it felt pretty real that time too!
He moves his head to my other nipple and somehow manages to thrust harder. I give a half a second apology to my neighbours before my orgasm hits, wave after wave of blinding pleasure; I hear him grunt loudly and feel his body go rigid before he collapses on top of me, and I welcome the weight.
After a minute he rolls off me and kicks off his pants and boxers the rest of the way down. I grab some tissues and carefully put the wad between my legs, wincing as it feels a bit tender.
“You ok?” Donovan asks sleepily, before he gets up to turn the light off, getting back into the bed and pulling my back to his front.
“Uh huh.” I don’t trust myself with words, I can feel tears threatening and I hope he’ll fall asleep as quickly as he usually does so I can mourn the end of our friendship quietly in the dark.
*Part 7, Moving on is not so easy when he’s still in your bed, is here*