three rooms | nathan gardner

XIII

Warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of suicide
Words count: 2000

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«Good girl», he growled as his member split my walls and made its way to my stimulated core.

The desk under my chest moved a bit as his deep thrusts rocked our bodies back and forth, the fine objects on the wooden surface trembled struggling to stand still. Before me lied a photograph of his dead wife. 

He was fucking me early in the afternoon in his studio right where his wife’s eyes met mine. I felt like a monster, I was so disrespecting her I thought my misery never ended.

I was wicked. He was wicked for bending me over his desk and railing me in front of her.

«Did I tell you to stop moaning?» He pulled me up from my hair, making my head touch his shoulder.

God it made me even wetter.

«Words darling» he ordered with a menacing tone, his light beard scratching my cheek.

I dared to look at that fucking picture again, I felt something in my chest tighten and a stinging pain loom behind my eyes. I wanted it, he fucked me every day and he’d never be gentle with me because he knew I wanted him like that, and he wasn’t a submissive man. Never been. But his wife’s ghost was always standing between the two of us, always keeping Nathan from letting go of his true feelings and keeping me from telling those three damned words out loud.

It was silly of me to be in love, I was naive and perfectly aware of that. Maybe it was just infatuation, the kind that every young adult has experienced; I idealised him in my head, I pictured him as my byronic hero with a heart-shattering sorrow in his bones.

And I decided to be the empty bottle that takes all the rain.

«P-please sir harder», I cursed under my breath and quickly began to have my organs rearranged by my handsome professor.

He made me face him and cupped my cheeks with just one hand, his eyes pitch black full of sinful lust and nothing more. Nothing more.

I was enjoying all of it, truly, but even if I wasn’t facing that beautiful woman I still saw her face, her tall silhouette behind the curtains. She was my new owl, my new guilt.

«Come back to Earth Eerie», he kissed me so gently that it would’ve been impossible to think that he was the one pounding me to my high and making me spill all over his carpet.

I tried to please him as best as I could when I screamed his name, but a big large hand cut my breath halfway as he was chasing his own release. 

«Look at me.» he tightened his grip and I instinctively took his wrist trying not to panic as his long fingers sank in my skin after each sloppy thrust.

Oh, I loved it.

The danger of death, life suddenly cut from my throat and his veiny hands, his dark eyes and sharp jawline. He was doomed and breathtaking.

Days passed by and he’d keep fucking me all day long, always making sure that I was okay with it until one day, as the holidays were coming to a very close end, I stopped him just when he tried to undress me in that pastel blue room on the third floor.