Back In Time

Heavy Heart

                                                                             Elara 

My fingers dance over my clit, circling and teasing as my hips buck into them. I'm alone in my room, the door locked and the curtains drawn, lost in the heat of my own desire. It's been building all day, ever since I saw him earlier. That intense gaze, those strong hands, the way he moves... It's all I can think about.

I slide two fingers inside of me, curling them upward, feeling the wet heat of my arousal. My breath hitches in my throat as I begin to stroke faster, harder. The sensation of being filled, of being wanted, consumes me. My fingers dig deeper, finding my G-spot with perfect precision. I arch my back, throwing my head back against the pillow.

"Fuck," I groan, feeling the pressure building in my core. "I need you."

I press my fingers deeper, harder, seeking that release. My hips move in a frenzy, my legs shaking as the pleasure washes over me. I can feel it coming, feel the tightness in my stomach, the tingling in my fingertips. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I lose myself to the sensation.

"Oh God, yes," I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire. "I'm going to come."

And then, with a shuddering moan that escapes from deep within me, I do. My body convulses around my fingers, and waves of intense pleasure wash over me. My vision blurs, my thoughts melt away. All that's left is this incredible feeling, this overwhelming need for more.

I lie there for a moment, catching my breath, feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm. Even as my heart rate slows, my body begs for more. I can still feel him inside of me, his touch branded onto my skin. The memory is enough to make me ache, and I know that I won't be able to resist him for much longer.

Carefully, I remove my fingers from between my legs, wiping them clean on the sheet. I lie back, eyes closed, trying to regain my composure. But the image of him is burned into my brain, and I know that the only way to get him out of my head is to see him again.

Slowly, I sit up, reaching for my clothes.

Gods, I can't believe I just did that. The taste of my own juices still coats my tongue, and my thighs are sticky and aching. It feels like I've been touched by a million hands, and I can't stop thinking about it. I should be more careful, more controlled. But it feels so good, so right.

I close my eyes, trying to steady my breath as my fingers slide back between my legs. I spread my wetness, reveling in the warmth and the slickness. I wish it could go on forever, but I need more. I need to come again, to feel that release, that freedom.

My fingers dance over my clit, teasing and circling. It's so sensitive now, so swollen from my earlier orgasm. I push two fingers inside myself, feeling the tightness as I stroke myself. The sensation is almost too much, and I moan loudly, arching my back. I need more. I need...

My thoughts scatter as the pleasure builds, and I come again, hard and fast. My hips buck wildly, and my cries fill the air. My body is wracked with spasm after spasm, and it feels like I'm being pulled apart, like my orgasm is stretching me in every direction. But somehow, it's also the most wonderful feeling in the world.

When the tremors finally subside, I collapse back onto the bed, gasping for breath. My fingers are still buried in my folds, and I don't have the energy to move them. I'm just grateful for the weight of the blankets, for the feel of the cool air on my skin. It's like I've been reborn, like this orgasm has washed away everything that's been bothering me, and left me pure and clean.

And still, I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to have someone else's fingers there, someone else's lips and tongue. The thought makes my body tingle all over again, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning.

But for now, I'm content to lie here, exhausted but satisfied. My fingers move gently against my skin, caressing and soothing. I close my eyes, feeling the afterglow wash over me, and for a moment, everything is perfect.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, I awoke with a start, my body still tingling from the lingering echoes of pleasure that had washed over me moments before.

A sense of unease settled over me like a heavy blanket as I sat up, the events of the night before flooding back into my mind with a rush of conflicting emotions. Despite the intimacy I had shared with James, despite the comfort and affection that he had offered me, my thoughts were consumed by one person and one person alone – Malachi.

Closing my eyes, I tried to push the memories away – the feel of his touch, the sound of his voice, the way he had made me feel alive in ways I had never thought possible. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the pull of his presence, the magnetic force that drew me to him like a moth to a flame.

With a heavy sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cool floor chilling my bare feet as I made my way to the window. Leaning against the frame, I gazed out at the world beyond, lost in thought as I wrestled with the turmoil raging within me.

What was it about Malachi that held such power over me, even now? Why did I still long for him, despite everything he had put me through? And most importantly, how could I ever hope to move on with my life when he still held such a tight grip on my heart?

The answers eluded me, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand as I stood there in the silence of the morning, lost in the depths of my own despair. And as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden rays across the room, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to escape him, Malachi would always be there, lurking in the shadows of my mind, a constant reminder of the love I could never forget.

With a heavy heart, I tore myself away from the window and began to move through the familiar motions of my morning routine, the tasks that once brought me comfort now feeling hollow and meaningless in the absence of the one I truly longed for.

As I showered and dressed, the memories of my time with Malachi flooded back to me, each moment vivid and sharp in my mind's eye. I remembered the warmth of his embrace, the softness of his lips against mine, the way his touch ignited a fire within me that burned brighter than any flame.

But alongside the memories came the painful reminders of the truth – that Malachi was gone, lost to me forever in a world of darkness and despair. And no matter how much I wished for his return, no matter how fervently I prayed for his presence to fill the empty spaces in my heart, I knew that he would never come back to me.

With a sigh, I pushed the thoughts aside and forced myself to focus on the task at hand, determined to make the most of the day ahead despite the ache that lingered in the depths of my soul. But try as I might, I couldn't shake the feeling of longing that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the emptiness that now filled my days.

As I made my way downstairs, I found myself drawn to the familiar comforts of the living room, the memories of happier times with Malachi still fresh in my mind. Sitting down on the couch, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift, lost in a sea of longing and regret as I yearned for a love that could never be mine.

And as the day stretched out before me, a vast expanse of emptiness and uncertainty, I knew that no matter what lay ahead, I would carry Malachi with me always – a bittersweet reminder of a love that was both my salvation and my downfall.

A/N

🫢🫢🫢 😬😬😬 🥲🥲🥲

I went through all of the five stages of grief while writing this.

I can't believe I did that and I regret it but at the same time I don't regret it but I'm just confused now so yeah 👍 

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter

Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️