The Wicked Life

by Sharlene Alba about a year ago in erotic

Erotic Prompts Series

The Wicked Life

"Why didn't you tell me?" your chilling voice sends shivers down my spine, and I thought I had gotten over it. I should've known better. We were everything but convenient.

"Tell you what?" I respond, struggling to breathe as I keep moving the wrench around the loosened plug around the engine. The hour was unholy, and I wished more than anything you weren't as much of a night owl as I was. Maybe then we wouldn't be having this dreaded conversation. Maybe then you'd be in bed with your fiancé and I'd be here, at this garage, bringing something else back to life, rather than this mess we tend to create around each other.

"That you still felt something," you finish, exasperated and out of breath. But you were also out of time. You had more than enough of it to find me and pull me out of the murky waters you left me to drown in.

"I don't," I lie, wholeheartedly because I needed to build a wall between us again. An unbreakable one, with reinforced excuses guarding the front gates of this hell we seemed attracted to.

"Bullshit. You only ruin me when I make your pulse race. As if you're pissed at me because no one else can make you tremble like I do," you continue with your argument and I continue holding down the last of my crumbling shield. It was all I had left after I decided to give you a taste of your own medicine. You should've known I didn't have to do much to bring you down with me. The moment we step into the same room together, that's when the sparks we thought we hosed down with anger spring to life. That's when the best parts of you and me go into hiding, making room for the devil in each of us to conjure chaos.

"You seem to be forgetting something," I mention, as I let go of the wrench after placing it into the toolbox next to the car. You reek of sandalwood and tequila as you step closer to me and I wipe my hands clean against the small rag hanging from my toolbox. Memories of how we used to be filled my mind and damn it, you knew exactly what you were doing. But I wasn't the same girl you left behind for a better life. I was older, wiser, but still full of the rage you ignite in me. Seeing you again was like pressing into an old bruise, your entire body reacts to it, pulling you back into all the hurt and pain caused by the culprit. You were no different. But you are worse.

"And what's that?" you add, as I close the hood of the car to distract me from your piercing dark gaze. I always fucking hated those eyes of yours. They were two walnut colored moons of erotic rays of fire and they had no problem burning the clothes right off me. They were on me as you followed me towards the opened garage doors. I pushed them down, one by one to close them, locking them in place with padlocks and I reached towards the light switch to turn the lights off. But you quickly captured my attention again as you took my hand in yours, pulling me closer towards you. Your chest is heaving, and my breath quickens as you glance down at my lips.

"You never taught me how to cut you out of my veins," I confess, as the tears burn my eyes and they swiftly fall down my cheeks. I want you to see it, this pain I've been carrying around with me like a shadow. It's followed me around since the moment you decided leaving me was the only way to make me happy.

"I never thought I needed to. You were always stronger than I was," you claim, with remorse in your gaze and I hate you for reminding me of her, the young and wild girl you couldn't keep your hands off, the same one who would've given you the world had she not given up on living in one without you.

"You went on, living your best life, and I've been stuck here, unable to get to the finish line, barely catching a breath because I was so pissed at you for never looking back," I conclude, as I slip my hand away from your grip and stand my ground. You reach to wipe my tears away but I slap your palm away and begin to rebuild another wall between us as I head towards the exit of the garage. Once I reach to turn the lights off again, I feel your hand on mine the moment the darkness fills the room. The only light keeping us from falling onto the greasy concrete of the garage was coming from the slits carved into the garage doors.

I didn't need the light coming from the streetlamps outside to know you were barely an inch away from me. My body instantly came alive, every tense muscle relaxed, every spot you had ever kissed craved your lips and tongue once again. You felt the same. I didn't need the thickness of your erection poking against my stomach to tell me that. I knew you like I knew the anatomy of any engine. Only, I could fix any broken engine that fell into my lap. I could never fix you. Maybe that's what killed me the most.

"You have a fiancé waiting for you," I reminded him, hoping he'd walk away without adding another regret to his list tonight.

"You're stalling," you whisper into my ear, turning my defenses into ash as your lips graze the skin on my neck. I remember now why we were always at each other's throats. We were never on the same page, never in sync, never walking down the same road. You thought it was okay to fuck me tonight, because you'll never see me again, while I thought it wasn't okay to break someone you made a commitment to. We had different ways of viewing the world and that was a recipe for disaster. But we sure made it look damn good.

"I think we should call a truce. Stay away for good," I suggest, but I make no attempt at pushing you away. Part of me felt like you owed me this, a brief moment of inhibited passion and lechery, while my head screamed for me to stop before I got in way over my head, and my heart began to break all over again.

"She always knew about you. She saw this coming," you admit in between freeing me of my t-shirt and bringing out my breasts from my bra.

"And you see nothing wrong with that?" I ask as your face catches the light coming from outside. This was always the difference between you and me. You've accepted how dirty your hands could get, while I never could. I both envied and loathed you for it.

"I see nothing wrong in giving each other what we obviously still want after all these years," you reply, testing me, trying to catch my bluff. I would've smirked if I didn't know it would've made you grin in a very annoying and smug way.

"I only wanted you to feel the madness of heartbreak. Anything else would only make things worse," I continue, changing the subject, and I take in a breath when you take my face in your hands and rest your forehead against my own. You're torn. And you're broken. Just how I wanted you to be. So why didn't I feel any better?

You kissed away another tear burning my cheek before you sighed deeply and kissed my lips, bracing yourself for the consequences that would no doubt haunt you after tonight. And you kissed me as if you didn't mind being chased by the ghost of what we were meant to be. Your tongue collides with mine the moment our bodies crash into each other's against the door. Our clothes were off before we pulled our lips apart for more oxygen, and you take the chance to get on your knees, glancing up at me, like a man with nothing left to lose.

"I never stopped loving you. And that's why I left her. Not because you exerted yourself back into my life and made me realize what I had done. But because you deserve better than a man who cheats on his fiancé with you," you admit, giving yourself permission to pull my panties down with your teeth. I believed you. But only because I wouldn't be able to fall apart for you otherwise. My clit is throbbing, craving your tongue and the delicious strokes that make my knees buckle with pleasure. Once your hands make their way to my behind, I run my fingers through your hair and tug on it hard, forcing you to suck and lick my sensitive mound until my body can no longer take it.

You pick me up before I collapse onto the floor and place me on top of the hood of a classic cherry colored mustang. My legs are pried open for you and I almost whimper out your name the moment your lips brush over my aching clit. I curse your name instead, and you grin against the moist flesh. I pull you on top of me and graze my wet folds over your hard cock. You grunt in protest but you take your manhood in your hands and start to tease my opening instead.

"Is this what you want?" you whisper the question into my ear and while my body wanted to scream a loud yes, my heart was still pumping with adrenaline and fear. If we did this, there was no going back. There would be no denying my feelings for you any longer. I would have to admit to myself that I really did want you back in my life, and into my body apparently. I look up at you then, picturing a future beyond the temporary hypnosis of your warm brown eyes, and the incredibly inconvenient rage you seem to provoke from me. That's when I see it. My answer.

I pull at your waist and your face, both our lips and hips crashing simultaneously. You slip inside me so easily, a perfect fit for the most dysfunctional pair of human beings. We move, and we thrust, your cock slipping deeper and deeper into my core. I curse your existence a few more times before I feel our friction begin to take over any and all of my thoughts. You fuck me hard and fast. Plunging in and out of me, a smile on your face the moment you smell the river of mixed juices dripping between us as we climax together.

You kiss every inch of me, leaving no patch of skin unattended to and I feel the cloud of fear begin to shroud over me as you hold on to me closely. I expected your hatred. I expected your rage. But never this kind of intimidating intimacy. You sense how uncomfortable I feel and you make me look at you, letting me know I was safe exactly where I was, in your arms. Something else I had to get used to. Something as equally terrifying than the possibility of having a future with the same man who broke me so long ago.

"I'm not going anywhere. Unless you put me in an early grave. And I'm sure I'll deserve it," you tease, lightening up the mood with your macabre sense of humor. I smirk and feel the cloud of fear dissipating, making way for the brightness of a sun I thought I'd never see again because of you.

"We live the wicked life. It can still be arranged," I try to scare you, and top it off with a sultry grin, but you don't take it too seriously. Instead, you chuckle lightly before you slip inside of me once again and fill me with more of the love you had deprived me of for so long.

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Sharlene Alba

Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry fleekonabudget Facebook: grungefirepoetry 

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