Hearing my name on his lips tangles my tongue, seeing him eating the food I’ve prepared makes me weak. I’m pretty sure I’m broken. And I know why. Seeing them together the other day wrecked me. I’m still not sure how it can be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and yet still make me want to yank my heart out through my mouth just to make it stop hurting. I’ve gotten myself off six times since, just picturing him pleasuring her, remembering the short, gaspy pants she made and the look on her face when she came—and it only made me cry once. Okay, twice. Fuck. I’m a mess. And he’s going to see it.
