What's wrong is always right
You know it's wrong, you've always known it's wrong. It's wrong to him, it's wrong to her, but you can never stop yourself. When she stares at you, her gaze unfaltering, her eyes black with a fire the burns ferociously, you can never stop yourself. You can never say no. You can never stop her.
You let your head drop back against the wall, a small thud the only sound that ricochets around the room. That and the sound of heavy breathing, the sound of two desperate lovers, two people who are hopeless to stop each other and stuck with a feeling of despair.
You know that she'll never stop you, you know she'll never stand up for herself and tell you that 'it's either him, or me'. She'll have you in any way she can, and if this is the only way she can have you, then she'll take it. You know she'll take it. That's how you always end up here, in this position.
But none of this matters as she forcefully pushes you against the wall. You hiss as the cold stings your bare back, but you're still not going to tell her to stop. You'd never do that. She places wet, open mouthed kisses against your neck, almost fervently. You know she'll mark you, claim you as her own, but you never stop her. You let her. Let her have this tiny bit of control in a world that's confusing and always off axis.
She moves her lips to your ear and whispers exotic, intoxicating words. You close your eyes, savour the moment, let the words wrap around you. You've always loved the way she speaks. You've always loved the little half smirk that appears on her face when she knows something, the little smirk she gets when she knows what she's doing to you.
You're not really listening to what she's saying, but you can feel her skin against yours. She's pinning you against the wall, stopping you from escaping. As if you'd ever try. You wrap your arms around her, drawing her impossibly closer, trying to mould two into one.
Your family never did understand why you liked women, why you liked her. And of course you being you listened. You left her, walked away, but it was only so long before you came crawling back. Pleading, begging and finally coaxing your way back into her life. She knew you were with him. Maybe he knows you're with her.
There was a dark, controlling side of Emily. But yet she was so caring and tender at the same time. Like split personalities, only… She knew which one you needed in which moment. She was good like that to you, always showing you what she was thinking, how she was feeling with those soulful brown eyes, the ones full of mystery and so many feelings and emotions it sent your head spinning. It still does now. But all one had to do was learn how to read them.
You feel her enter you. How many fingers? Two, three, four? You don't know, you don't care… All you care is that she's with you, that she's the one that's going to throw you over the edge. She was always good at that, throwing you over the edge. Because that's what she did. She threw… With all her effort, every time and it never ceased to amaze you.
Your nails dig into her back, marking soft flesh and no doubt drawing blood as you let out a loud moan. She's going faster now, she knows you need it. She could never say no to you, she never would say no. You can feel her fingers moving inside you, delving deeper and further than they had before. Were they searching for something? Was she searching for something?
You're eyes open and she stares back at you. She doesn't blink or turn away, and neither do you. You know what she's looking for. She's looking for you. The you that doesn't care what other people think, the one that swore she'd never leave and stand by her side no matter what, the one that vowed they were soul mates and the one that said she couldn't live without the other.
You knew that person was inside you somewhere, but where you weren't exactly sure. You aren't exactly sure. She'll find it though, she always does. Her eyes bore into you, searching, digging, discovering… And she'll find you eventually. You can't hide for long when you're with her. She knows you too well.
She's thrusting into you full force now, thrusting her fingers into you mercilessly. You can hear the soft thud of the wall behind you as your back repeatedly hits the wall. Or maybe it's your heartbeat that you can hear. You don't really care. All you care about is that she's inside you, that she's pulling you out of the same hole you always seem to fall in, that she's saving you. She always saves you.
Candles burn in the room and if you focus long enough, you notice that it puts a nice glow to her porcelain skin. She's beautiful, she's always been beautiful to you. Perfect even, but she'd always argue that she wasn't. But you know she is and one day you'll find a way to make her believe it.
Her mouth hovers over yours, breathing in every gasp and ever moan. She occasionally brushes them over yours and her lips burn you. Her kissed burn, her touch does. Everywhere she touches you burns but you wouldn't have it any other way. You've always liked her the way she was. You'll never want her to change.
You can feel a familiar sensation low in your stomach, one only she can give you. You know that nobody else will be able to make you feel like this. It begins to spread and you can feel it so powerfully that your toes curl and your nails are once again marring her skin.
She finally initiates a longer, more passionate kiss. She knows your there, that you just need a gentle push to go hurtling over the edge. She brushes her thumb against your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth opens in a silent scream and all your muscles contract as a paroxysm overtakes you. She holds you, gently, tenderly, as though you are fragile and one touch too firm will shatter you to pieces, despite how hard and fast she was moving inside you before.
And she's found you. She's saved you again.
Finally you're able to look at her, open your eyes. You cradle her face and place a gentle kiss against her lips before pulling back to look at her. She nuzzles her nose into your palm before placing a soft, tender kiss there.
"Leave him," she whispers.
"Emily… I…" you don't know what to say, but this isn't what you were expecting her to say. You don't know what words your ears were waiting to her, but it wasn't these.
"I'm ready now, I want you, Jennifer, I need you. I'm ready to be with you," she persuades, running her hands slowly over your body, her eyes gleaming hopefully.
"Emily…" you sigh. "You know I can't."
"Yes you can," she coaxes. "He knows your with me anyway, I saw him earlier. He confronted me, told me to stop sleeping with his girlfriend. I told him no. I told him what you told me, that you didn't want to be with him. He called you a bitch and I told him you are the most beautiful creation known to man. He said he was through with you. That he didn't want to be with someone that likes women and that you were delusion," she told quietly.
"That's why his things were packed?" you ask.
She nods and a small smile graces her lips. You can't help but smile back because you're ready this time as well. You're in love… With Emily and you're not going to run from it this time. You're going to dwell in it, you're going to hold her hand proudly and one day… Maybe someday soon… You're going to marry her.
And you'll be the happiest person alive.