Losing My Religion
folder
M through R › Passions
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
899
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0
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
M through R › Passions
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
899
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Passions or any of its characters. I make no monetary profit from the publication of this story.
Losing My Religion
"Come, Ivy... don't resist me. Not this time."
She should shove him away, send him back to his bed with a swift thrust of her knee between his thighs; her muscles are practically twitching in anticipation of causing him harm. Her hands ball up into fists, perfectly manicured fingernails digging red crescent moons into pale palms.
Then Julian's mouth drops to her neck, lips grazing her collarbone, and Ivy realizes for the first time just how tired she is. She's trying to hold all of the fragmented pieces of herself together, but it's been so long and her whole body aches with the effort. Exhaustion is creeping in.
Sam is back; he moved back to Harmony nearly a year ago with his wife, a pretty little thing with a face as soft and as youthful as Ivy's used to be, once upon a time. They have a baby now, a son like Ivy's, and every day it gets harder and harder to keep the fantasy alive. Sam is married now. He has a son — another one, one that he knows and loves as his firstborn. He's surely forgotten all about Ivy now.
"Ivy," Julian moans, pressing his body against hers, making heat flare up in the pit of her stomach. "Let me in, darling."
She's so tired — tired of maintaining this perfect, icy exterior, tired of suffering silently as she waits for the day that her revenge will be complete. She's tired of longing for a man that she lost half a decade ago.
"Ivy, please."
She acquieses; she lets Julian in. She lets despair in.
She should shove him away, send him back to his bed with a swift thrust of her knee between his thighs; her muscles are practically twitching in anticipation of causing him harm. Her hands ball up into fists, perfectly manicured fingernails digging red crescent moons into pale palms.
Then Julian's mouth drops to her neck, lips grazing her collarbone, and Ivy realizes for the first time just how tired she is. She's trying to hold all of the fragmented pieces of herself together, but it's been so long and her whole body aches with the effort. Exhaustion is creeping in.
Sam is back; he moved back to Harmony nearly a year ago with his wife, a pretty little thing with a face as soft and as youthful as Ivy's used to be, once upon a time. They have a baby now, a son like Ivy's, and every day it gets harder and harder to keep the fantasy alive. Sam is married now. He has a son — another one, one that he knows and loves as his firstborn. He's surely forgotten all about Ivy now.
"Ivy," Julian moans, pressing his body against hers, making heat flare up in the pit of her stomach. "Let me in, darling."
She's so tired — tired of maintaining this perfect, icy exterior, tired of suffering silently as she waits for the day that her revenge will be complete. She's tired of longing for a man that she lost half a decade ago.
"Ivy, please."
She acquieses; she lets Julian in. She lets despair in.