All Chapters of A TASTE OF SIN: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

He reached for my upper arm, halting my stride. His touch wasn't harsh or hard, just solid. He kept me in place. "What happened back there?"I turned to him, my mouth in the shape of an "o". What happened? Was he seriously asking?"Dr Reynolds, with all due respect, but are you fucking kidding me?""Language, De Montmorency," he said gravely, but I cut him short."You ask me to come here, to your office, at this hour, to show you a painting I did outside of the academic context, when you're not even my art teacher, just to smear in my face how terrible it is?"He let go of my arm. Maybe my speech made something click in his brain."How do you think that made me feel? You aren't even a painter! This was just mean. And I won't apologize for disagreeing with you, what you said wasn't constructive criticism, at all."He was silent, my voice echoing in the deserted entrance hall."I came after you because I forgot to say a few things."He said, his hand reaching the back pocket of his pant

I felt like I was going to be sick. Anger and humiliation were running through my veins, blinding my vision.My stomach was in knots, my eyes were burning from holding back tears. My heart was contorting painfully in my chest.And underneath the anger, there was something else I didn’t want to name. Something that made my pulse pick up for reasons that had nothing to do with rage.How much more proof do you need that he is a total bastard?Why did he do this? Why was he so sweet in the morning and a total jackass now?What truly pissed me off was that I knew he was right.Whatever happened in his apartment could never happen again. He was sweet and kind and thoughtful, and he made me feel comfortable and that just couldn't be. I couldn't be feeling those types of feelings towards him.And yet, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I’d caught myself noticing his hands, his voice, the way he moved around the kitchen. Stuff I’d only ever caught myself noticing about women before.When I got to

As we ate, I listened to Blair attentively as he told me about himself and his life prior to Durham. It was surreal how I had never really asked him some basic questions before getting intimate with him. That was a testament to the undeniable attraction we had for one another, because we completely skipped the small talk stage.That and also the fact that we had never gone on an actual date, the type normal people go on when they don't have to keep their involvement a secret.As he spoke, detailing his short-lived time in France, an unsettling thought crept over me, but I chose to push it down. What was I doing? Why was I asking all these questions when I wasn't sure what I wanted with him? It wasn't as if we'd ever have a normal relationship, so why was I feeding that idea and hope?I pushed those thoughts aside for now. I didn't care about the consequences, I just wanted him, all of him, his body, his person, his history. Besides, I was extremely curious about the boy who had comple

"After reading all this, my greatest hope isn't that our relationship goes back to how it used to. I want us to evolve and learn from our mistakes and actions. Before telling you about my past I lived in denial. I looked at myself in the mirror and tried not to see the lonely and naïve sixteen year old boy that I was, but not anymore.I don't want to hide that part of myself because, in the midst of hell, I found a bottomless well of strength. I want you to look at me and not see a fragile, damaged, innocent boy: I want you to see the strength I have in me and not doubt it. I understand this might be difficult for you, which is nothing more than a testament of the care and concern you have for me, but I need you to know this Felix: I will impatiently (albeit respectfully) count the days until you finally realize I'm not a porcelain doll, that you can touch me, that you can surprise me, that you can fantasize about me, that you can tie me down and blindfold me and pinch me and paint me

"Tell me something, isn't a relationship made up of two people?" I asked, trying to sound casual. I waited for him to reply. He simply nodded. "Good. Aren't both partners supposed to contribute fifty fifty?" He nodded again. "Good. Isn't communication one of the most important things in a relationship?"He gave me a half smile. "Did your therapist tell you that?"There was no malice in his voice so I answered honesty."Yeah."He sighed and turned off the water. "He's right."He placed his hands on the edge of the counter, shaking his head. "I knew I was hurting you on purpose. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away from you, but you already know that. I tried letting you go slowly so it wouldn't hurt so much, but clearly that didn't work."I was dead silent as he opened up to me. I didn't want to miss a single word."I sound like a fucking coward saying this, maybe I am a coward deep down, but every day when I came home I felt so bad, like proper bad. Work was the only