Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia. Страница 72

By the time I make my way to his apartment, my body is shaking violently from nerves. I don’t know where we will go from here. What happens now? I love Ben, yet I’m standing in front of someone else’s door, waiting for him to fuck the pain and memories out of my head.

I happen to love this man too.

I gulp as I stand outside his apartment trying not to think about anything other than the physical release that my body requires from Arsen. I ignore the shouting voice inside my head telling me that Arsen is the wrong choice. If he is the wrong choice, why does it feel so good when I’m with him?

After ringing the doorbell, Arsen opens the door immediately and lets me in without saying a word. He looks like hell, maybe even worse than I do. Wearing only his Armani boxer briefs and nothing else, I can see the contours of his perfect body and the way his golden skin accentuates every groove and plain of his muscles. Whenever I see the dimples right above his ass and the deep vee peeking out of his underwear, an urge to lick him there takes over me.

I look up and absorb his achingly beautiful features. His eyes are bloodshot, his blond hair is a mess, and the dark shadows of his stubble give his face a menacing quality. Yes, I want him to fuck me raw. I want him to leave scratches, bruises, and red marks on me as proof of what I have done. I want him to fuck me until the physical pain numbs my entire being and my orgasms numb my mind.

In silence, we stare at each other for a long time. Arsen is the first one to speak. “Where have you been?” he asks shortly. “How come you haven’t answered my fucking phone calls? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since last night.” He drags his hands through his hair repeatedly. “You said you were going back to your house to end things with him. How long could that have taken you?”

Watching his anger surface is like watching a tornado about to hit an unsuspecting town. Powerful. Breathtaking. Devastating.

“What the fuck is going on? Why are you standing there saying nothing?” Arsen walks towards me and grabs me by the shoulders just like Ben did not two hours ago, shaking me forcefully, desperately. “You were with him, weren’t you? You spent the night with him,” he asks repugnantly.

Nodding, I hear him curse under his breath.

“Did you fuck him?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“How many times?”

I shake my head and try to move away from him, but Arsen tightens his grip on me, stopping me. “Look at me when I speak to you and answer my question.” His voice wavers, “How many fucking times, Catherine?” Once he realizes that I won’t answer him, he shakes me once more, almost as if the action will push the truth out. “Fucking answer!”

“Three times,” I say as I watch him flinch.

“Did you come?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“Yes.” I did. Every time.

“How?”

“What do you mean how?”

“How did he make you come? Did he fuck you from behind? Did he eat your pussy? Did he—”

“Stop! Stop!” I shout as I cover my ears. His words are making me sick. The truth makes me sick.

“Answer the fucking questions. How did he make you come? I want to know.”

“The first time he made love to me, he was on top of me. W-we came as we stared at each other. The second time, I sucked his dick until he came in my mouth as he a-ate my p-p-pussy. The third time, he fucked me from behind on the edge of our bed.”

“Did you think about me?” he asks hoarsely.

“No.”

Arsen lets go of me. Fisting his hands, he closes his eyes as his breathing accelerates. When he stares at me once more, the harsh look in his eyes makes me take a few steps back.

“Catherine, go to my room, get naked, and wait for me there. Do not ask fucking questions and do what I tell you.” He burns me with his blue gaze, “Go. Now.” He turns around and heads to his kitchen, leaving me alone.

In his bathroom, I take my Burberry trench coat off, my cream-colored cashmere sweater and skinny jeans next. My black-lace bra and panties are last. When I’m nude I walk out of his bathroom, expecting an empty room, but Arsen is already there, naked and slowly pumping his erection in his hand. As he watches me walk towards him with preying eyes, I can feel myself getting wet. A foot away from him, I’m about to reach for him and kiss him, but Arsen lifts a staying hand.

“Get on your knees,” he angrily commands. “I want you to get on your fucking knees. Now.”

Stunned, I try to process his words.

“I SAID NOW, YOU FUCKING SLUT! GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!”

Wincing as if he has slapped me, I get on my knees in front of him. I want to be angry that he called me a slut, but I am one. I’m a whore who cheated on her husband and now I’m back in my lover’s apartment.

I am a slut.

I can feel the coolness of the marble floor seeping into my skin. I raise my eyes to stare at him standing above me, his raging erection so close to my face.

“Now open your mouth for me.”

As I open my mouth, I can feel a shameful flush covering me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Mortified, I close my eyes as he grabs his dick in his hand and begins to push it inside my mouth.

“Open your eyes. I want to watch them as I fuck your face.”

When I do, we stare at each other as he fills my mouth with his throbbing erection. I wrap a hand around his dick and begin to lick the head, swallowing the pre cum that makes the tip glisten. My body is instantly aroused, and my nipples pebble under his gaze.

“Bite it,” Arsen orders, his breathing coming fast and short. “Let me feel your teeth around my cock.”

I shake my head no and I’m about to let go of him.

His hips push forward until I feel him hit the back of my throat. I’m kneeling and trying not to gag with his thrusts. Tears of shame burning my eyes, my vision is blurry as I look at his enraged face.

“I said to fucking bite it!”

He’s doing this on purpose.

Hurting me.

Humiliating me.

“Fuuuck!” he exclaims as I bite him. The sick and twisted side of me actually enjoys it. Physically hurting him.

His hands go to the back of my head, fisting my hair as he pulls me closer to him. Picking up the punishing pace, he thrusts into my mouth painfully and without mercy.

Faster.

Faster.

Trying to breathe through my nose, I fight my gag reflexes as my own saliva and tears cover my chin and face.

“This mouth,”

He thrusts deeper.

“is,”

He thrusts harder.

“mine.”

He explodes inside my mouth as he pumps a few more times until I have swallowed him clean. Arsen shivers and pulls himself out of my mouth with a popping sound. His shoulders and chest contracting with deep and heavy breathing, he looks down at me still kneeling on the floor with stormy eyes. “Remember that the next time you fuck your husband,” he states and leaves his bedroom.

I’m naked and sitting on the tile floor of his shower stall with my arms wrapped around my legs as scalding hot water pours down on me, stinging my skin and turning it a bright red.

I’m so numb.

So lost.

I shut my eyes tightly as I try to make the images of what happened back in the bedroom disappear. When I lean my head on my knees, feeling the boiling water burn my back, I hear Arsen opening the door to the bathroom. Not wanting to face him, I turn to look at the wall.

“Catherine…” he whispers huskily.

I ignore him as I feel a knot on the back of my throat. I can’t cry in front of him, he doesn’t deserve my tears, so I shut my eyes tighter and scoot closer to the wall.

I sense the moment Arsen kneels in front of me, his cool hands touching both of my knees. I open my eyes as he grabs my hand and moves to lie down on the floor, bringing me down with him and climbing on top of me, shielding me from the scalding water as it pours down on us. Face to face, chest to chest, beating heart against beating heart, both of his hands cupping my cheeks as we stare at each other.