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  A Hell of a Love

  By Shaya Gilford

  Copyright 2014 Shaya Gilford

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  A squeak of a bedspring beside him was his first clue that she was near. He raised his head from the pillow, but she stilled him.

  “Shh.” Warm fingers rested over his lips and smelled faintly of her favorite peppermint-scented soap. Rain pooled on the small window, distorting the sickly yellow glow from dirty street lights in the alley so that he saw only a highlight of pale skin and darker shadows.

  He’d obsessed over her absence these past five days, his Renae he thought lost forever this time. There would be no questioning why she came to him in this hovel facing a back alley on a side of the city they would never have dared enter together before. No matter, as long as she was with him.

  He smoothed his fingers over her silky hair flowing down her shoulders the way he liked it. When the sheet slid off the bed and her body pressed to his side, he felt the softness of bare breasts and naked skin. The sensation of her long, lean muscles brought memories of taking walks with his Renae, of watching her swim laps in their pool in a red bikini and sometimes without, and of holding her bags while she tried on gray yoga pants and a supportive tank top during their last shopping trip.

  Oh, yes. He knew that body more intimately than his own. Seductive, responsive, lustful – the physical relationship had never been a problem. The problems arose when the same passion they shared in the bedroom spilled into the emotional realm of everyday life of two people very similar in all the worst ways: demanding, unyielding, hell bent on success and be damned to anyone who stood in their way, including each other.

  Love was supposed to be enough, wasn’t it? Bullshit. It only complicated what should have been a non-relationship long ago by making them forget the reasons their love didn’t work. Just as he did now.

  All he knew now was that her nipple was hard against his bicep and her leg had tightened around his to tickle his hip with the dark curls between her thighs. He slid his arm from its entrapment between them and pulled her down to drill his tongue between her lips, wondering briefly when he’d last brushed his teeth, and then not caring as she met his kiss.

  His body began to awaken to her with a tightening in his groin and the swelling of his shaft filling her palm. A distant light briefly flickered to reveal her pink lips as she sat up and straddled his stomach. Reaching forward, his hands circled dusky areolas before she grabbed his wrists and bent down, trapping his arms while she teased his lips with her nipple. He latched on, flicked the peak against his teeth, and sucked it into his mouth before running his tongue in long slides around the swell. He loved her tits, all natural and sensitive to lips and licking.

  Renae shifted to get attention to her other nipple while still holding his wrists pinned beside his head, making his cock lengthen and pulse against his stomach. Power during sex was a two-way street for them. Right now, she’d make him do what she needed to satisfy her. Later, he’d pound her into the mattress. Give and take – he gave her what she wanted as many times as she could cum, and damned if she didn’t take him every way from Sunday he wanted to fuck her in return.

  She popped her nipple from his mouth and sat up, releasing his hands as she rose up on her knees. He was afforded a dim view of her neatly trimmed bush, and trailed his fingers up the insides of her thighs, goose bumps following in his wake.

  Her voice was low and sultry. “You missed me.” A statement rather than a question.

  “Yes.”

  Her fingernail grazed over his erection, hardening him more and swelling the head. “Have you been with anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I love you.” He punctuated his declaration by teasing the lips of her sex, parting them so he could see the moist folds.

  “You left me.” She closed her hand around his shaft as the middle finger of her other hand circled her clit. He loved to watch her masturbate, and slipped a finger in her wet pussy to feel her contract around his touch.

  “I can’t remember why,” he grunted as he thrust his hips against her pumping hold.

  Suddenly, her hand was gone from his hard manhood, leaving it twitching as if seeking her out. “Put your arms under my legs.”

  He slid his finger from her core and sucked her juice from it before pushing his arms under her. She crawled up the bed and hovered over his face, the intoxicating smell of her arousal filling his nostrils and fueling his primal need for her. After slapping her palms against the stained wall for leverage, she lowered herself until her pubic curls prickled his nose, and he felt the warm folds between her legs against his lips.

  His tongue snaked out and slithered into her sex, thrusting in and out to taste her cream. When she tilted her hips back, he licked his way to her clit and darted the tip of his tongue over her engorged button. His dick jumped with the sound of her “Ahh!” echoing through the small room, and he palmed his erection to sooth its throbbing while he watched her full breasts jiggle above him.

  She rode his tongue, shifting and thrusting until he held still and let her slide over his mouth where she wanted. Her moans sharpened, her breath quickened, and her legs tightened. Taking over again, he held her hips and lapped at her clit until she shuddered through her climax, and her juices ran over his chin.

  “Shit,” Renae panted as her forehead rested against the wall while he gently licked her pussy. She crawled down his body, leaving a cooling trail of cum down his chest, and then rolled onto her back and pulled him with her.

  He wiped his face on her breast and teased her nipple as he pushed two fingers inside her wet heat. “Cum for me again.”

  “Make me.”

  He gathered her oil on his fingertips and slowly spread it downward until he found her puckered backdoor. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her long legs over his back, opening to his touch as he probed her. Sitting back on his heels, he pulled her ankles over his shoulders and pushed the tip of his finger in her ass. Her moans spurred him deeper as her sphincter relaxed, and her hips rose to meet his plunge.

  “Play with your pussy,” he commanded.

  Her long, delicate fingers slipped down her chest and over her nipples, tugging and pinching before sliding lower. She knew he wanted to see, so she spread open the lips of her sex with one hand, while her other hand slid over her clit.

  “That’s it, baby.” He continued to finger fuck her ass, and felt her muscles clench with each slide of her hand over her clit. His cock throbbed, and he squeezed the base as he watched the cream glistening on her cunt.

  Through heavy-lidded eyes, she saw his face as he watched her, his hunger for her evident in his expression. Her fingers circled faster over her clit, and her calves tightened over his shoulders.

  “You want me to cum so you can fuck me, don’t you?”

  “You know I do, baby.” He withdrew his finger to the tip, and then plunged back in hard and fast.

  “Unh! Can you feel it? I’m so close.”

  He could feel her tightening almost painfully around his digit, and he watched her head push into the pillow and her pussy rise toward his face as her body stiffened. “There you go, baby. I can see it good, now.”

  The rhythm of her fingers over her clit faltered, and her other hand dropped to his thigh with an iron grip to hold herself up. “I’m gonna cum.”

  He shoved his finger in between her cheeks as far as he could and held there, waiting for the moment when the dam broke and she spasmed in her climax. Her back arched, her stomach clenched, and a second later she cried out as he felt her muscles contract and watched the cum drip from her pussy over his hand and onto his shaft.

  He pulled his finger from her and in one swift motion, grabbed her hips as he rose up on his knees and plunged his dick into her rippling core. “Oh, shit!” he groaned.

  She pushed herself onto him. “Fuck me hard!”

  He pulled back and drove into her again, then leaned forward with her legs still around his head and braced his hands on the bed beside her shoulders. Her pink nails left stripes down his chest and arms, pain and pleasure mingling his existence into a single focus to spurt his seed deep in her body.

  He grunted and pounded his hard shaft into her, and with the force of his bucking, she threw her arms over her head to keep him from slamming her into the wall. “So good. You feel so good, Renae.” Her hips matched him thrust for thrust and her heels dug into the back of his shoulders.

  Heat flushed his body, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. The pressure low in his stomach was building, his balls tightening as they slapped against her. He slowed his thrusts, and when Renae felt his cock swell, she clenched her pussy around him. His grunts turned into a litany of “fuck, fuck, fuck” timed with his slides into her tight, wet walls.

  A final, deep plunge set off the explosion, and he jerked against her with the sear of his nerves and his hot cum spurting in her cunt. He rode her until she had milked the last of his spend from his pulsing shaft, and when she dropped her legs to the bed, he collapsed on top of her.

  Renae lay limp underneath him, waiting for him to kiss her and roll off of her as he always did. His kiss was brief, given between panting breaths, and the sweat from his body cooled on her skin as he lay on his
back beside her.

  She went to the tiny kitchenette and searched for a clean glass. There were two on the counter, one smelling like soured beer and the other coated with congealed sweet tea. She turned on the tap and let the water run before cupping her hand under the stream and sipping from it.

  The square table pushed against the wall held the remains of a meal, though from the looks of it, the food was days old – a half-eaten fried chicken leg, green beans covered in questionable greener fuzz, and a gray mass that may once have resembled mashed potatoes and gravy.

  She heard him behind her and turned, the corner of her mouth curling upward when she saw him appraising her naked body leaned against the counter.

  “I want to come home, Renae.”

  “I know you do.”

  He moved closer and stood just in front of her. “Please, let me come home.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “I meant what I said before, Renae. I can’t remember why I left.”

  “You will. You will remember soon.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you always do.”

  “What? I don’t understand.” She ran her fingers through his hair and smoothed it down. He was confused by the look of sympathy and sadness on her face. “What don’t I remember?”

  “It doesn’t do any good for me to tell you. You have to find the memories on your own.”

  He was growing more agitated and gripped her upper arm. “You sound like we’ve done this before, like we’ve already had this conversation.”

  “Because we have, and it’s always the same. Come back to bed.”

  “No! I want to go home with you. I don’t belong here!”

  She pried his hand from her arm and led him back to the bed. “You can’t come home, but I can stay for a while longer.” Confused, dazed, and sleepy, he crawled onto the bed and lay down, and she stretched out beside him to stroke his chest. “What is the last thing you remember?”

  He tried to concentrate through the haze in his mind. “We fought. I know we were arguing, but I don’t know why.”

  “Yes. We fought, and you left.”

  “Why?”

  “Close your eyes.”

  In the turmoil of his thoughts, he welcomed her instruction as a reprieve from making any decisions. His heavy eyelids slid closed, and he concentrated on slowing his breathing and relaxing his body. With the creep of darkness through his mind, his confusion slowly gave way to fatigue. He would question her further when he woke up. For now, he slipped into that space between waking and dreaming where memories surface with the dimming of self-awareness.

  He was yelling at her. She shouted something back as she balled up the silk nightgown in her hands and tossed it into the suitcase.

  They were downstairs. She was backed up against the wall, and his anger uncoiled with the punch of his fist through the plaster beside her head.

  The sound of his car tires squealing on the pavement gave him a satisfactory surge of power in his rage. Damn her for doing this again! Only she could make him lose control, could make him hate that he loved her.

  The crunch of metal sliced through his anger, his rage, his hatred, his love. Pain. Infinite pain exploded within him, dragging him screaming into darkness.

  Darkness penetrated by a sickly yellow glow. He shot out of bed at the sound of his own roar bouncing around the stained walls. He was alone. Tears streaked his face, and when he swiped them from his cheek, the salt burned his fingertips. Staring at his bloody hands, he recoiled as other memories flashed through his mind.

  An attempt to return Renae had failed when he couldn’t find the door. Every wall was smooth and unbroken, with the exception of the window that wouldn’t budge. He had searched every inch of the rooms, and crawled across the floor in the hopes of locating a hatch. He’d scrabbled across the panes of the window, pushed and tugged, and even slammed a chair against the glass, failing even to dislodge the filth collected there.

  When his bloody fingertips refused to find purchase any longer, he had stood at the sink until the cold from the water seeped up his arms and settled in his chest with the horror of his situation. He could never go home again, never walk with his Renae, watch her swimming, or take her shopping. And his trap was of his own making.

  Remembering and feeling his panic seize him all over again, he collapsed onto the bed and tugged the sheet over his nakedness. A faint whiff of peppermint soap invaded his mind. She had been here, near him in his hovel in a back alley. Renae would come back. Always, she came back, and he would wait for her.

  For eternity, he would wait for the one love he had lived for, and the one hate he’d died for.

 

 

  Shaya Gilford, A Hell of a Love

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