She was full of hidden knots and tangles. With every bite, I would find a thing she needed undone.
"Historia!" She choked out as my hand was at her throat, applying pressure bit by bit, feeling her hiss and get off at the idea of being helpless. It wasn't my idea but I was doing this to her, wasn't I? I never thought I'd see someone and know their kink but I did. I could feel how wet she was growing in her underwear as I teased and flexed my fingers every now and then to remind her just how weak she was.
"Hi-Historia." She had her hands in my hair, on my chest, on my ass, and anywhere else she pleased. This time, she had a finger in my mouth as I sucked on it so innocently as if I wasn't choking her. She loved the mix of being an innocent girl and a problem at the same time.
I released her when I felt we both had enough as she was left panting, breathless, and begging as her own hands were tugging down her underwear, revealing what little I could see in the dark. Her lips chased after mine every time I pulled away, having to deny her the simplest of pleasures.
I shouldn't be fucking her like this, but I was.
I thought our first time would be romantic after she brought me to dinner and had wine, or that she'd confess her attraction to me after she finished my painting. But matters were in my own hands…
She was a dirty girl who didn't have what she wanted and needed for so long. I could feel it in my bones as she threw a condom at me.
"If things got desperate," was all she said and I had no idea if I liked that but I didn't care at the same time, because she needed a girl who could unwrap her problems like it was the sexiest thing she saw.
I bit it open and applied it to my index and middle. It wasn't hard to get her to find the lube next as I stroked her clit, earning a curious glance and uninterrupted moans.
And, she nearly broke the moment I slipped right into her. She was bucking and making sounds I could barely relate to sex.
She loved the way I screwed her. She loved the way my fingers were inside her ass. She loved the way I could pretend to be mean but give her love at the same time.
But, we shouldn't be fucking like this.
I was too hasty. I was too fast. I should've waited till she was out of her episode of sadness but now I couldn't go back.
Now, I was infected with her sadness like all her paintings. I was associated with incompleteness and now I could never get her to love me like I loved her as she called out my name every hour of the night until her body was raw and bruised.
I was the embodiment of Ymir's sadness.
Was this what I wanted?
Maybe.