Cleo hated herself for what she had done, but she could not help but embrace herself beside Cadmus.
In his bed.
It felt like a place that she belonged, and that she had forsaken. He was asleep—he had rolled off her and curled into fetal position still clutching her. He played with her breasts, and explored the contours of her curves.
He always made her feel like a woman.
At the cafe, when she went to meet him she had not imagined that she was going to sleep with him. But after a few glasses of wine, and looking in his eyes it was like she was spellbound. She felt dazed and overwhelmed like a woman on the cover of an old Spicy Mystery.
Her body however was not confused, and she wanted Cadmus even as she knew it was wrong. That he could not give her what she wanted now because he was fast asleep. Her eyes closed, but fluttered violently because she wanted him inside of her. When he was inside of her she was not lost. She held him close, probably bruising his butt from the desperate way she clutched it and mewled underneath him not being satisfied no matter how much he gave her.
She wanted more.
That was why they were not together anymore, because it did not seem that he had more to give her than this. Lovemaking, followed by wakeful sleep as he clutched her breasts like a security blanket he did not want to let go.
Cleo knew she would have bruises from him later, and she was not sad about it. She wanted the residue of their love—it was all she had ever wanted.
Cadmus squeezed her breasts more, and she wondered what he was dreaming.
If she was in them.
Panic clawed at her as she became desperate for him again, but now he squeezed her breasts and he was awake—
She wanted what he wanted.
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Rebel xox