He lies back and tosses his legsup. I shove back in. He screams out softly. Then grits his teeth. As I loosenhim up, it becomes easier for me to penetrate him, and I keep up my work.
Once again, I’m haunted withregret and shame. I know better—knew better before we ended up in this moment,but I can’t keep myself from enjoying it. Because he feels good. And it feelslike the more I fight it, the more I want it.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Isay.
“Let’s stop caring about what weshould be doing,” he begs.
He’s right, so I release my fearsand allow us to enjoy this moment.
I’m lost in kisses as we shiftpositions, moving frantically as if we both fear someone is about to step in andruin this moment.
When I’ve given him a good fuck,we switch places, and soon his body glistens with sweat as he fucks me. I griponto the iron headboard behind me as I gaze up at him.
His face is locked in a tensestare, almost like he’s punishing me for how brutal I’ve been to his ass. But Iwant him to make it hurt the way I’ve made it hurt for him.
He has me screaming out as he was,but he leans down and kisses me to stifle the sound. My cock is throbbing as itbounces on my abs, a string of pre-come dripping into my navel.
I squirm as his hips slam againstmy legs. As much as he complains about my size, I could give him just as muchshit for his own dick.
His thrusts intensify and soonhe’s hitting my prostate just right.
Waves of excitement ripple throughmy body, my nerves alerting one another of just how good this moment feels.
I want to cling on to this life-givingexperience, to keep it from ever ending, but the peaking pain in my cockassures me that I can only hold onto it so much longer. And when I shoot myload across my abs, Tad pounds even harder until his face tenses up with hisbody, assuring me that he’s getting his own sweet release.
A wave of mental relief sweepsthrough me, matching the physical relief as I revel in knowing that I’m filledwith him.
We cling to each other.
I enjoy his breath against me asif it’s a warm summer breeze.
Thirty-Seven
Tad
I shouldn’t be holding onto him like this.
I lie across his chest. I’m surehe can tell by my grip that I don’t want to let go of this moment. Of him. Idon’t have any delusions about what this was, but it seems that the longer hewithholds sex from me, the more I crave his body. Now that he’s given it to meagain in what felt like our most passionate, intense, arousing experience, Idon’t want to go without it again. I look up at him to check his expression,and he gazes down at me with those dark eyes. I was expecting him to lookguilty or worried, but he appears calm. Like for once he isn’t fighting ourattraction.
I kiss his pec softly. Not surewhy. Just an instinct. Reminds me of something I would have done with Jordan ina time where I believed we had something special…where I was convinced I’dfound someone who understood me and my life. Someone I might have been able tospend my life with. With Bryce, at least I can enjoy the fantasy, even if it’s short-lived.
“You might want to let Enriqueknow that you’re not planning on meeting with him,” Bryce says.
“I mean, would it be so bad if hecame up and joined in?” I tease.
He chuckles.
We’re both so relaxed. So at-ease.I guess we got all that frustration out of our systems.
I’m more satisfied than I can everremember being.
I curl up against his firm body,allowing myself to pretend that we’re something more than we are. If I can havethis even for a minute before he gets uncomfortable with it, then at least whenit ends I’ll be able to remember it. That he doesn’t resist me only makes itfeel even more incredible.
I rub my nose against his chest,and he strokes his hand through my hair. It’s like he’s playing the same game Iam. Another stroke of his hand reminds me of the conversation that led us tothis moment, of the words he said that were so concerning. Did he reallybelieve he was so invaluable to the world that it might have been better offwithout him? Seeing how serene he looks, I can’t imagine those sorts of thoughtshaunting him. But if the media’s taught me anything, it’s that people areshitty at reading other people’s thoughts. If they could, they’d know who I am,rather than this character they’ve created. The character I’ve helped themcreate.
Bryce’s expression turns serious.
“You’re right about Jeff,” hesays.
