A CONTRADICTION
I’d fucked women.
Banged them.
Screwed them.
Nailed them.
I’d never made love to one, though. Not till Faith.
I didn’t deserve her, certainly hadn’t earned her. But I’d damn well try to be what she needed. Faith Morrissey deserved everything I could give and far, far more.
She was a girl composed entirely of truths. The fabric of her essence was weaved with threads of honesty and candor.
I was a man comprised completely of lies. My blackened soul was built of falsehoods and fabrications.
Together, we were a contradiction. It shouldn’t have worked. But somehow, all our opposites balanced — two halves of the same whole.
My sharp angles were mellowed against her soft curves. My disappointment in the world was curbed by her enthusiasm for it. My darkness was eased by her light.
I held her above me as we moved together and watched her slowly unravel.
Head thrown back, eyes half closed, lush lips parted.
Her hair fell around her face like a curtain and I pushed it behind her shoulders, needing to see her. Absorbing her in fragments and flashes.
White skin glowing like silk in the moonlight.
Smooth limbs tangled with mine.
Heartbeat pulsing heavily in the hollow of her throat.
She was so fucking beautiful it made my entire body ache like I’d taken a heavy beating. Looking at her hurt like a physical blow — one I’d accept happily. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
The need to possess her, to claim her rough and hard, like I’d wanted to since I first laid eyes on her, was so strong it nearly killed me. My body was screaming for release, wanting nothing more than to drive into her with so much force she’d never forget this moment, as long as she lived. But I held off, because the sweetness of this — strange and unfamiliar as it was — was also the best thing I’d ever felt. She wasn’t a cheap, meaningless fuck or a quick, dirty screw.
She was Faith.
So, for the first time, I allowed myself to be tender. I touched her gently, coaxed the pleasure from her body with lazy, languorous strokes.
And, in turn, she made things I’d only ever dreamed of come alive — even as she killed me. With every muscle she moved, every touch of her hands, every brush of her body against mine, I felt myself sink further into her depths.
I drowned under the graze of her fingertips. The clench of her hips. The press of her lips.
And as she came undone around me, crying out my name and collapsing against my chest, I saw the love there in her eyes and I knew I’d never, ever be the same.
I am in love with this girl.