(An. Reading this while listening to Leaving Tonight by The Neighborhood makes it better)
"Good morning," Carlos says entering the kitchen area.
"Good morning," I reply keeping my eyes on the stove. "How are you feeling?" I ask trying to act as normal as possible.
But there's nothing normal about it. I'm not even slightly ready to face him.
"I'm fine, or at least physically." He replies slowly walking in my direction and then stopping. "Are you okay?"
"Kind of," I answer honestly.
The situation feels totally unnatural, I have never felt awkward around him or out of words but today the tension between us could be cut with a knife.
"What are you making?" He fills the silence probably feeling the same way I feel.
God, I hate this so much. This is not how we are, how our relationship works.
"Omelette, with chives." I keep my answers short trying to act casual as I finish up with the food.
"Mia I-"
"Can you pass me a plate?" I interrupt him still not daring to look in his direction.
I can't do this, not right now.
"Of course." That's all he says as he moves towards the cupboards on my right, his voice perfectly calm and collected. "Here." He hands me the plate and this time I have no other alternative than looking at him.
"Thank you," I mutter taking the plate and staring at him for a few more seconds than needed.
He looks better than yesterday morning that's for sure but he still looks miserable. His eyes that are still pretty red match with his dark circles and he looks really pale, the usually tan glow of his skin gone. His dark waves fall messily around the sides of his face and for the first time I notice he has a very subtle stubble. And as good as it looks on him I know it's only there because he has stopped taking care of himself.
But how didn't I notice until now?
"No problem." He mutters also staring at me for way longer than necessary. "Can I help you with something?" He asks finally breaking eye contact.
And thank god because I couldn't bare the feeling of his eyes on me anymore. His gaze holds way too much power. It gets so deep inside me that I lose the ability to think rationally.
"You could make coffee while I set up the table," I say going back into the food and trying to ignore the pull he has.
"Sure." He nods walking to the coffee machine and taking the two mugs that are always on the side for us, a white one (which is mine) and the black one (that's obviously his). "What do you want?"
"Latte, please." I put the plate with the omelet over the counter and go back to the stove to make another one.
Once that's done I put the chives over the cutting board on the island behind me and start cutting them in small pieces. We don't speak, we keep going with our tasks waiting for something to happen.
And it's when Carlos finishes with the coffee and walks to the fridge at the same time I give step back to put the pan away from the stove that something happens, us colliding.
"Sorry." He says straight away his strong hands over my hips keeping me steady. "Are you okay?" His voice is barely a whisper as he stares down at me once again, his gaze and his touch making my body react in a way it shouldn't react right now.
"I'm okay." I nod not moving away from his touch and looking straight into his blue eyes that feel as if they could see right through my soul.
It's like he is trying to apologize with them since words feel too vague and his face shows that familiar mixture of emotions I keep trying so hard to figure out.
And I want nothing more than to forgive him. Hug him and stay in his embrace forever.
"I'm so sorry baby, so sorry." He mutters his hands still tight around my hips. My body shaking under his touch.
I don't know what to say because no words feel right either and before I know it I'm committing the stupidest and biggest of mistakes. My body betrays me and my arms wrap around his neck bringing him down towards me and kissing him as if my life depended on it.
He freezes, half in shock, and when I think he isn't going to reciprocate the kiss, (which I don't put against him because what the fuck I am doing?) I step back but then his hands go down to my butt and his lips dive directly into my neck.
And for once, instead of thinking I just let myself go.
My head falls backward giving him a better access as he slowly backs me against the counter. His hands go under my oversized hoodie and start to travel all over my body, taking in my every curve. His skin feels cold to the touch at first and I can't help but shiver in his arms.
None of us speak, knowing what we are doing is nothing more than a big fat mistake but we don't stop either. In less than two seconds he has already removed my cotton panties and both his pajama pants and boxers hang around his knees.
I stroke his dick inside my hand and listen to his subtle pants (that always drive me crazy) getting muffled by my neck as he keeps on kissing me. Then when I grip him tighter he bites into my skin and I can't stop the loud moan from leaving my lips at the feel of his teeth digging into me.
He isn't just kissing me he is practically devouring me and I didn't know how good this could feel until just now.
His cock just keeps growing bigger inside my hand and by how hard he is I can tell that if I keep going he is going to come before he is even inside me. And I need him inside me. But thankfully he seems to figure it out too because he turns me around in a swift movement causing me to let go of him and plant my hands flat over the kitchen island. Then he quickly checks if I'm wet enough and as soon as he gets the answer he wanted he thrusts inside me.
There's no warning or preparation he just does it, fast before one of us notices how wrong this is and stops it. His dick stretches me in the best way possible and in this position, I swear I can feel every part of it. Every vein.
It hurts at first but it's a welcomed familiar feeling and then as soon as I hear his loud moans and the sound of our skin colliding against one another that pain it's all forgotten and the only thing left is pure raw pleasure.
He takes me relentlessly, harder than any other time before, restraint totally out of the picture, and even though I love every second of it I know it is this way because he is using sex to let his frustrations out.
The same way I am.
It's so wrong, so fucking wrong and we both know it but it feels too good.
His fingers dig into the skin over the hips, as they usually do but this time, same as his strokes much deeper. He is going to leave a mark and I will probably be sore for a few days.
Which only excites me more.
My arms start to give up on me, shaking under my weight and the high approaches me like a big unstoppable wave. Using all the strength I have left I back down against his hips, meeting his movements that just get faster and faster. He is so deep inside me and I want nothing more than for him to come so I can feel every single drop of him filling me.
"Joder..." his cursing is the first word to break the silence and that's how I know my wish is about to come true. (Fuck.)
With one last thrust that reaches a point inside me I thought was impossible to reach he finally comes. And as if reading my mind he doesn't pull back until every drop of his cum is deep, deep inside me. His head rests over my back, that's still half covered by my hoodie (that's actually his hoodie) and my whole upper body rests lifeless against the cold counter.
After a little while of trying to get our strength back, Carlos finally steps away and helps me stand. Then he slowly puts his pants and boxers back on and fixes his prosthetic. I put my hoodie down but not my panties since all his cum is now running down my thighs. It's a feeling I will never get tired of, one I love but that right now makes me feel dirty.
"Are you okay?" He looks back at me as I stand there unmoving.
Usually, I will just go to the bathroom and clean myself up, or he will take a clothe to help but this time I'm not sure what to do and apparently he doesn't either. The realization of what we have done crashing directly into us all once.
"I'm okay is just- we shouldn't have done that," I whisper feeling like absolute trash. "I'm so sorry I kissed you."
I shouldn't have kissed him, I used sex as a way of coping on the worst occasion possible.
He didn't deserve that.
I didn't either.
"It's okay, I kissed you back. It's not your fault. We both made a mistake and let our frustration take action." He says looking at me.
That half hopeful half pessimistic look back on his face making me feel even worst.
"I'm still... I don't think I can forgive you just yet." I mutter my whole body shaking and not of pleasure anymore.
He pauses looking down at the floor and then back at me. "I know, it's fine." He nods in understanding and my heart breaks for him.
"I'm going to go wash myself, you can go on and eat no need to wait for me." I put my panties up and walk away before I fuck it up any further.
"Yeah, okay." His answers are back to being short and straightforward but this time his tone isn't as collected as before.
He is hurt.
Getting inside the bathroom I close the door behind me with the whole weight of my body and slide down to the floor. Then, I rest my face against the hands over my knees and bite my tongue to try and muffle the sound of my guilty cries.
"What have you done?" I whisper to myself.
Author's note
As always if you are here ty for reading and don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts!
If you all are thinking them having sex was wrong I know, that was the idea. I hope it makes sense and that everyone understands the reason behind it lol. It wasn't just smut. I have a very detailed plan of how everything will do down but it isn't easy to put it in words.
With this said, Mia isn't perfect but what are we thinking about her doing what she did?
Next chapter back to Carlos' pov and back into the drama (or more drama), get ready...
Lots of love,
Maria