Mind Games (Part 2/2) - Sex Stories

Mind Games (Part 2/2)

... between us was urgent, intense. I could hear the throb of my heart. I knew what I wanted and from the way he was looking at me, he wanted it too. “I know what we said,” he began carefully. “And believe me, I’ve tried. But this, today, I feel like this silence isn’t working.” “What silence?” “Not talking about it. And don’t say ‘about what’? I’m done faking, Lauren.” “About what?” I asked openly. He shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “Of the best fucking sex either of us has ever had. It happened.” He went to the door and closed it, not looking at me. “And I’ve thought about it every day since. All the way to that night, I told myself that one time would fix everything. These emotions I have, these soft goddamn feelings; I thought one time and they’d go. But they won’t. Some days it gets me so bad, I think I’m losing it. Hell, maybe I am. It’s some sick obsession.” “It’s not sick.” I said. “Isn’t it?” His eyes met mine and they took me back to France, back to the forbidden. “I think crazy things. And you were so cold about it. You didn’t give me anything.” I stared at him. “I couldn’t! If I had, I wouldn’t have won today.” “It hurt,” Mats continued. “It really fucking hurt. I had to psych myself up every day not to do something stupid.” “You did well,” I said weakly. “You did great.” “It was hard ,” he said resoundingly. “But we did it. We’re here, aren’t we?” “It’s not working,” Mats said, frustrated. “I can’t pretend it is. I can’t look at you objectively. These past few ...

... weeks have been the hardest of my life.” I stared at him. “So what are we going to do? I’m nothing without you.” “We have to work something out,” he said. “Something, I don’t know what. All I know is that I can’t pretend like this anymore.” He was looking at me like he was waiting for me to protest. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. It had been five weeks and I was craving him like a drug. I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t care anymore, that the consequences could figure themselves out but before the words could form, he was kissing me. It was everything. His tongue was in my mouth, rough and insistent as it found mine and dominated it. There was something both desperate and adamant about the kiss. I couldn’t pull away. The ever-present smell of him was in my mind, making everything else disappear to the background. His hands were on my waist, pushing me backwards until I fell onto the bed. Bags and equipment clattered onto the hardwood floor as we scrabbled for room. He was above me, and his mouth was on mine again, like he was trying to reiterate that he was in control. We were both breathing hard when he pulled away. I stared up at him, trying to read the meaning behind his expression but drawing a blank. There was something so hungry and urgent about him, yet he wasn’t moving fast enough. He was just watching me. “What?” I asked. “I just,” He shook his head. “I just never thought I’d be here again.” He dragged his shirt off over his head, easing off me to discard the rest ...