I know I've made a huge mistake when he cries out and drops to the floor, all the light leaving his eyes before his shoulders droop in defeat. It was like turning off a switch. I can almost feel the energy leaving his body--a body that I can see has lost some weight.
I lashed out at him in frustration because I was so close to forgetting and losing myself in the promise of pleasure that had been on his face. I had been so close to losing the tight reign I had on my control and tearing off his clothes to bury myself into his slick, wet heat. Doing the very thing I don't have the right to do anymore. But now I have hurt him. The look on his face is worse than it has been during the past two weeks. It is the look of someone who has lost all the fight in him. It breaks my heart to hurt him like this, and I have to wonder if I am doing him more harm than good.