Shape Of A Relationship

A divorced woman, a man who is unwilling to commit past a flat promise, and how their inability to defend themselves from the desire of the flesh shapes a relationship

“Don’t you dare move,” Trevor growled as he angled himself for Sarah, his eyes sharp and intent as he reached to grasp her wrist.  “I didn’t say we were through with this argument,” his tone was firm as he pulled her away from the door. “Every time we have an argument, you can’t run away.”

Sarah turned to wrench her hand free of Trevor’s grasp and failed.  He was always stronger than her. Stronger than she liked – and yet, she often liked that strength when it came to tangling beneath the sheets.  Her breath caught as she thought of the night before, when he’d grabbed her and twisted her body into far too many positions and found his way with her again, and again.

“Trevor,” she replied, tugging and tugging at her arm before giving up, simply staring up at him in simmering rage as she let his hand grasp her far tinier wrist.  “We keep having this fight. I keep asking you. I keep telling you. We have to decide what we want this to be. I can’t keep coming over to your flat to have you toss me around your bed!”

Trevor’s smile was far too satisfied, too smug, too knowing for Sarah’s liking.  She didn’t like how it made her toes curl and her gut-clench in anticipation.  She didn’t like how the simplest of his gazes, the rake of his fingers, the tug of his body could dissolve all reason from her.  It was why she had to keep this argument up. Today was the day. She had to end things with him.

“Why do you fight what you like?” Trevor asked languidly as he moved to draw her against the door, her clasped hand brought above her head, as his body snugged itself so easily against hers.  She could feel his desire that was poorly contained by the fabric of his cotton briefs. “You come here because I satisfy you. You come here night after night because,” his breath was hot against her neck as he nipped at her ear and whispered, “I make you drip for me.”

Sarah caught her breath and closed her eyes, willing her body to not react.  They had to have this discussion. Every time she’d tried to have it with him before – he did this to her.  He’d claim her lips, and her body, and show her all the ways he knew how to please her.  It made her question whether or not she needed the label.  Whether she needed to know if they were exclusive.  Her girlfriends begged her to stop caring.  To enjoy. But she was recently divorced and she, at some point, needed the label.  It made her feel safe and yet–

“Don’t you want to cum for me, baby?” Trevor whispered against her ear before he nibbled the lobe, his free hand moving to grip at her pants.  Sarah squirmed at his touch, shoving with her free hand to deny him what he wanted. Her fight was not put up for long as he grasped her other hand and drew it upwards to be held between his.  Firmly. “Stop fighting it,” he drawled, his need pushing against her, his breath hot on her cheek, “You know you want it as much as I do.”

Sarah should’ve fought harder.  Should’ve stopped him as his free hand undid her button, shoved her pants out of his way, and claimed her with his knowing fingers.  She was already wet for him. Wetter than she wanted to be. She panted as his fingers found the right place to squeeze and toy. Panted and groaned as he thrust knowingly inside her with his fingers.  “Stop,” she gasped, not wanting him to, as her head tipped back against the door. “Stop,” she moaned as he pressed knowingly upwards.

“You don’t want me too,” Trevor told her as he wrenched all reason from her with the simple knowing of his hands against her most sensitive parts.  “That’s what makes us right for each other. Stop trying to label us, baby. We don’t need labels when we know each other so well.” He removed his fingers and waited until she met his gaze and then he slowly licked them clean, his hot gaze holding her own.

Sarah’s breasts grew full and tightened as her lips parted and she panted out, “Oh.”  She shouldn’t have done that. She should’ve held it back and still she couldn’t deny him.  Couldn’t deny his lips, his forceful stare, his body pressed against her own. She squirmed free of his grasp only to shove her hands at his underwear and wrench them low enough so they did not encumber them any longer.

He grabbed her hips and parted her legs with his knee, knowing how far to spread them and how to grab her as he thrust up inside her.  Sarah groaned as he filled her folds, felt the full weight of each thrust, as he shoved her back against his apartment door for traction.  Trevor’s voice was a knowing laugh against her hot skin, “I told you, you can’t resist me.” And then he claimed any complaints from her lips with his full mouth.

Romantic Fiction

Jessica Means View All →

My professional background in biotechnology as a research chemist and as a veterinary technician has allowed me to have experienced two vastly different fields and for that I am thankful. In both careers, I have mentored, encouraged, and developed talent.

As a mother of two (a daughter and a son), I'm a self-proclaimed backyard chicken guru and someone who has “foster failed” nearly all the animals currently running the household. Oh, and I maintain a husband in my spare time.

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