My Dad's Best Friend Moved Into My Spare Room After His Divorce, and the Promise He Made My Father Lasted Four Days novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: Mine

I got up and walked across my own bedroom to stand in front of the glass.

It was strange to see myself.

My hair was a nest.

My mouth was swollen.

There was a bite on my left shoulder and a faint print of fingers on my hip.

The woman looking back at me had pupils the size of pennies.

I didn't look away.

Ed stepped in behind me.

He was a head taller, and the mirror made a frame of the two of us.

His chest was wide against my back, and his chin rested above my hair.

His hands came to rest on my hips.

"That's who I see," he said quietly.

"She's a mess."

"She's the best-looking thing I've ever seen in my life."

I leaned back into him.

He kissed the side of my throat.

In the glass I watched his mouth move down my neck and my own eyes go half shut.

I had never seen myself want something before.

It was shocking, how plain it was.

"Watch," he said again.

His hand slid up my stomach to my breast.

He held the weight of it and rolled the nipple between two fingers.

I saw my lips part, saw my back arch and push into his palm.

"See that?" he said. "That's you. That's what it looks like when I touch you."

"Don't stop."

"I won't."

His other hand slid down between my thighs.

I looked.

I watched his fingers part me, thick and tanned against my pale skin, and I watched my own hips tilt up to meet them.

"Oh," I breathed.

"Look at how wet you are."

"I am looking."

"Look at your face."

I looked.

I looked while he stroked my clit in slow circles, and my knees buckled, and he took my weight on his forearm.

I came watching myself.

It was fast and soft and ended with a ragged little cry.

I saw the red climb my chest and heard my own voice break.

He held me up.

He was breathing hard against my ear.

"I want to put something on you," he said.

"What?"

"A mark. Somewhere only you know about. Somewhere you can see."

My heart kicked.

"Do it."

"Where?"

I put my hand on my left hip.

"Here."

"Here?"

"Right on the bone. Where I'll see it in the shower. Where I'll see it at work, when I sit down."

He turned me by the hips and knelt on the floor in front of me.

I braced one hand on the frame of the mirror.

His beard scratched my skin.

He kissed the spot.

Then he opened his mouth over it and sucked, long and hard and deliberate.

His hands clamped on my thighs, and the pull of it went straight through to my clit.

I gasped.

I watched in the glass, over my own shoulder, as he held me there for a full minute with his eyes closed.

When he let go the skin was red and wet.

By morning it would be purple.

"Mine," he said, and kissed it.

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