when they call my name

ch.9

alexandria black

-

He has become the greatest sin I could ever commit. What once was something so innocent has turned into a nightmare only the devil could dream of.

I've had the brief touching over clothes humping thing in late high school, and a drunk guy during my freshman year of college the one time I tried to party...but if someone told me that a man like Christian would exist in my lifetime, I would have never let anyone get close enough.

His kiss was like gasoline, touch like kerosine and all of it just set me ablaze It felt like someone struck a match and let me explode. Dirty words and not even asking for permission. He just took what he wanted was his.

Worship. He said that is what worship should feel like. The thought of having someone on their knees for you is one thing, but what Christian did felt more powerful than that. He got on his knees and licked me in places I've never been licked. Touched me in ways no one has before.

The climax was a wave of emotions and a flood of warmth all at the same time. For it being a first time, there's nothing to compare it to. The euphoric thrill of his fingers and his mouth was more than enough.

After I come back to reality, my lips are dry and my chest is tight, pounding hard against the ribcage. It feels as if I cannot get enough oxygen to get the blood flowing and it frightens me. Is this what usually happens after? Am I being struck down for becoming almost an idol to him?

I find a way to stand to my feet and avoid eye contact with him. It's not the best feeling – someone idolizing you. It's a cold and hollow anchor that just won't come up to the surface.

"I'm gonna take a shower." I walk away from him as the headache gets worse. I don't speak to him when he calls my name, and I don't stop until I am in the bathroom.

I lock the door behind me, back against the wood and helplessly manage to not cry. Why am I even crying to begin with? It wasn't a horrible experience... but it wasn't the right time. I had always thought that the first time someone got that far would be with someone the Lord wanted me to be with. Someone who deserved to be my first.

Christian knocks on the door. "Alexandria? You alright?"

This was the last thing I thought would happen today. Isn't the guy supposed to ask for consent before doing all of that? Or am I just hysterical with too high of expectations?

"Yes, I'm fine." I yell back. If I closed my eyes long enough, would he disappear?

This is what worship looks like.

I do not want to be worshipped.

I want to be loved.

When I get out of the shower, I've calmed down just enough to face Christian. Now I don't even know which sounds worse; forgetting about the man who has now disrupted my peace or wanting this man to be with me all the time.

I can still feel the taste of his lips... but more importantly, I can feel where he had his hands. I tried to scrub the memory away, but I was only left with a red mark upon my skin. There's another red mark on my waist from where he held me in place so tightly. The way he had complete control of my body, and I allowed it. It was new and thrilling... but also a mistake. A wonderful, sexy mistake.

I wipe the condensation off a portion of the mirror, reflecting to when Christian was on his knees. How intriguing it all was... how exhilarating. I see his face in replacement of my own.

There is, however, always the possibility that this is all some kind of dream. There is always the possibility that I can wake up tomorrow morning and all of this is not real. I don't know how I would feel if that ended up being the case. Would I be relieved? Would I dramatically sob tears I didn't know I could shed?

A slight knock on the bathroom door brings me out of my daydream. "Angel? You doin' okay?"

I flinch at the sound of his voice through the door. "Ye-yeah? I'm good." I hesitate to give another response. "I'll be out in a few!"

Christian's footsteps retreat from the bathroom door, unknown to where. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding, going back to what I was doing before. What is wrong with me?

I go to reach for my clothes when I realize I didn't grab any. I panic for half a second, realizing my mistake. How am I supposed to get my clothes with him out there? I tighten my grip on my towel, mask up enough courage to even open the door, and walk out of the bathroom. I peer out to make sure he isn't anywhere nearby.

When I walk into my bedroom, there he is. He's standing in front of one of the paintings I've created in high school, admiring them. The sight of him looking at my paintings makes me just as nervous as I was before.

I clear my throat and he turn to see me in the doorway, but this towel only can do so much. "I need to put clothes on." I tell him.

Christian doesn't respond. He just stares at the brush strokes from my younger years.

I clear my throat again, hoping he would catch on. "That means you need-"

"Did you paint these?" He finally asks. Normally, I wouldn't mind talking about the paintings that teenage me put together but now is not really the time.

"Yes. Now, can you please leave so I can get dressed?" I ask him again.

"When did you do this?" He continues to ask.

I shake my head. "That's not important." I clear my throat. "So, please leave."

He stands beside me in the doorway and lets his fingers come underneath my chin. The water droplets on my skin are cold, but his touch is warm enough to send electric shocks through my body. His fingers trail down to the nape of my neck to the top of my towel. My body faces him completely, left wondering about what's next. I can't ever decide what I want from him in the moment, especially ones like this. Do I let him do what he wants? Stand up for myself and tell him to leave me alone?

Christian turns my body towards his, pulling me close enough to rest a kiss on my lips. There's no passion or desire of anything, just a simple kiss. A kiss that reminds me he can be trusted and that I must break that trust. My stomach does summersaults and weakness threads to my knees.

"Get dressed, little angel." He mutters breathlessly. Christian smiles just before shutting my bedroom door behind him, leaving me and my sinful thoughts.

I want to trust Christian Stone, I really do, and maybe in another life he and I could be more than perfect for each other. Maybe in another life we could have met a different way and none of this would be happening... but there's always the possibility that we were never supposed to meet in the first place, and this is the only lifetime that we do.