his chest, I want him to do this forever. I am trying so hard to
hold on… my arms and wrists are killing me, my body is on fire though and I
pant to breathe. He rubs my stomach, I beg him to not, and yet everything is
more intense, I feel the waves inside, I feel the every motion align – my
arms, my pain, my heat and oh, the sound of Luke’s breathing as he starts to
let go. I feel so much more – more than I ever have and not just
in my stomach -my thighs are convulsing, my spine shoots electricity to the
back of my neck and I arch and lift against his hands, I hear him groan but
even as I start to shatter, still I have to focus, because I am scared that
I’ll pee. It feels strange to be both holding on and letting go, and Luke likes
my restraint, he pulls me tighter down to him, harder down to him, and it is so
intense and so deep, and now, as I come, he takes it. Now, as I come, so to
does he. He leans backwards, bucks faster and, then stills. He roars as if wounded,
I know that he is, and then he calls my name.
‘Portia!’ He
moans it as he shoots into me. ‘Portia…’ He says it again as he holds me still
and pulses into me and I am sobbing and crying, my face is contorting, my body
red and sweating and writhing and twisting against his strong hands and there’s
nowhere I can go, no where else I want to be, other than the new places he
helps me to find.
He crashes onto
me, crushes me, he is still in me and he kisses me. Luke says my name over and
over as if it too has lived on his lips all these years. His mouth leaves mine,
his lips brush my cheek, and then his mouth is behind my ear and over and over
he tells me he loves me.
We are back.
It is after.
I lie there a
moment trying to catch my breath and as he undoes the cuffs as he kisses my
sore wrists and rubs my sore shoulders, as I look down at the marks, the high
that was there, dissipates. I remember what he did, how he left me on the bed, I
remember the fear and the panic and I am angry again. I am back to how it was
again, I am fully remembering for the first time since I saw him, just how bad
things could be at times.
He carries me to
the toilet and runs a bath while finally I pee.
I look down at
my wrists, they are purple and hurt and I hurt deep inside of me too and I am
so conflicted, I am lost between elation and shame and I don’t know that I can
do this now.
He washes and
dresses me and I cover my new bruises with a watch and bracelet and then he
kisses me back to him, kisses me till I cry.
He opens a
window in my bedroom, so the scent of us can leave.
He smooths the
covers, he is always so particular, I can see now how good a detective he would
be.
I am shaken as
he takes me downstairs.
I am conflicted
and guilty and I have to get to the school.
‘Soon.’ He wraps
me in a throw rug and disappears and I can hear him, I know what he is doing,
and a few minutes later he is back.
He feeds me soup
with a hand that is completely steady. Tears spike my eyelashes and I stare
into his eyes and the look he gives me is pure and tender, there is so much
love between us now, so much patience and just so much he won’t tell me, so
much I don’t understand.
‘You are
beautiful.’ He tells me and tears stream down my face as he feeds me.
And then he stands - our tender time over.
‘Here.’ He goes in his pocket. ‘I got you
a present.’
‘A phone?’
‘A fuck phone.’
He says and he smiles at my frown because I’ve never heard of that either. ‘You
are so innocent, baby…’ He kisses me and then he is gone.
I make it to my
car, I drive to school, but when I park instead of getting out I just sit
there, I open a window and hear the noise and the chatter of a normal world. I
scan the car park and I tell myself I am not the only woman, there will be so
many people right here, right now, who have just come from a lover’s bed.
It’s an affair,
I tell myself. And affairs are wrong, I know and I never would have had
hold on… my arms and wrists are killing me, my body is on fire though and I
pant to breathe. He rubs my stomach, I beg him to not, and yet everything is
more intense, I feel the waves inside, I feel the every motion align – my
arms, my pain, my heat and oh, the sound of Luke’s breathing as he starts to
let go. I feel so much more – more than I ever have and not just
in my stomach -my thighs are convulsing, my spine shoots electricity to the
back of my neck and I arch and lift against his hands, I hear him groan but
even as I start to shatter, still I have to focus, because I am scared that
I’ll pee. It feels strange to be both holding on and letting go, and Luke likes
my restraint, he pulls me tighter down to him, harder down to him, and it is so
intense and so deep, and now, as I come, he takes it. Now, as I come, so to
does he. He leans backwards, bucks faster and, then stills. He roars as if wounded,
I know that he is, and then he calls my name.
‘Portia!’ He
moans it as he shoots into me. ‘Portia…’ He says it again as he holds me still
and pulses into me and I am sobbing and crying, my face is contorting, my body
red and sweating and writhing and twisting against his strong hands and there’s
nowhere I can go, no where else I want to be, other than the new places he
helps me to find.
He crashes onto
me, crushes me, he is still in me and he kisses me. Luke says my name over and
over as if it too has lived on his lips all these years. His mouth leaves mine,
his lips brush my cheek, and then his mouth is behind my ear and over and over
he tells me he loves me.
We are back.
It is after.
I lie there a
moment trying to catch my breath and as he undoes the cuffs as he kisses my
sore wrists and rubs my sore shoulders, as I look down at the marks, the high
that was there, dissipates. I remember what he did, how he left me on the bed, I
remember the fear and the panic and I am angry again. I am back to how it was
again, I am fully remembering for the first time since I saw him, just how bad
things could be at times.
He carries me to
the toilet and runs a bath while finally I pee.
I look down at
my wrists, they are purple and hurt and I hurt deep inside of me too and I am
so conflicted, I am lost between elation and shame and I don’t know that I can
do this now.
He washes and
dresses me and I cover my new bruises with a watch and bracelet and then he
kisses me back to him, kisses me till I cry.
He opens a
window in my bedroom, so the scent of us can leave.
He smooths the
covers, he is always so particular, I can see now how good a detective he would
be.
I am shaken as
he takes me downstairs.
I am conflicted
and guilty and I have to get to the school.
‘Soon.’ He wraps
me in a throw rug and disappears and I can hear him, I know what he is doing,
and a few minutes later he is back.
He feeds me soup
with a hand that is completely steady. Tears spike my eyelashes and I stare
into his eyes and the look he gives me is pure and tender, there is so much
love between us now, so much patience and just so much he won’t tell me, so
much I don’t understand.
‘You are
beautiful.’ He tells me and tears stream down my face as he feeds me.
And then he stands - our tender time over.
‘Here.’ He goes in his pocket. ‘I got you
a present.’
‘A phone?’
‘A fuck phone.’
He says and he smiles at my frown because I’ve never heard of that either. ‘You
are so innocent, baby…’ He kisses me and then he is gone.
I make it to my
car, I drive to school, but when I park instead of getting out I just sit
there, I open a window and hear the noise and the chatter of a normal world. I
scan the car park and I tell myself I am not the only woman, there will be so
many people right here, right now, who have just come from a lover’s bed.
It’s an affair,
I tell myself. And affairs are wrong, I know and I never would have had
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