I don’t stop.
I double down on the movements—sucking, licking, squeezing, jerking—and he roars, bellows like the shadow king he is, as he climaxes in my mouth. I don’t want to choke, don’t want to gag, but I’ve never swallowed anyone before. I feel like a goddess. I did this for him. I made him feel so good, he’s literally exploding inside my mouth. I have to hold back a smile as he thrusts and spurts until, finally, my mouth is so full, I need to lift my head or I’ll spit his semen all over his belly.
I pull my mouth away and swallow fast. I breathe in deep through my nose and wipe my mouth, but Shadow pulls me on top of him and kisses me, his tongue against mine. The fact that he wants to taste himself on me is more than I can handle. I whimper and wriggle my hips against him.
He doesn’t say anything, just kisses me, tastes me as his heart rate slows. After what feels like ten minutes but is probably only two, he growls at me. “On your back.”
I do as he asks, lying down and settling the pillows behind my head.
“I’m not gonna stop until you come at least five times,” he says. “So, how do you wanna do this?”
I moan in anticipation and close my eyes. “I don’t want to think,” I tell him. “Just take me, Shadow. Take me however you want me.”
He lowers himself between my legs and plunges his tongue deep inside me. No ceremony, no shyness, I grab his head and hold it firmly against me. He licks me from the tip of my clit to deep in my core, scratching my lips with the soft hairs of his beard. It’s delicious, erotic, tickling, and perfect all at the same time. I can’t believe how fast I’m coming, but I’ve been primed and ready since I took him in my mouth. I come fast and hard against his mouth, wetting his chin with my juices.
He licks his lips, then reaches past for me a condom. He slides it on in record time, and then—somehow already hard again—he enters me fully in one long, deep thrust. He holds his weight up and fucks me hard—a desperate, needy bang that has the mattress smashing against the wall behind us. I don’t care.
He could open the bedroom door and scream my name for all I care. Shadow is mine, and all of this, for now, is mine for the taking.
We have sex so many times, Shadow runs out of condoms. It must be a sign. He offers to go out to the GTO for more, but I don’t think either one of us is going to be able to walk tomorrow. I must have burned thousands of calories in his bed, and I’m sweaty, sticky, and exhausted when I finally snuggle up behind him, my face against his bare shoulder, and fall asleep.
I wake in the early morning. Shadow is snoring lightly, his back to me. My face is still resting against him, my arm tucked under his.
I can’t believe I slept like this all night, but somehow, with Shadow, time and fears and insomnia and tossing and turning are foreign concepts. With him, all I feel is comfort.
As quietly as I can, I pull my arm from under his and tiptoe into the bathroom. I shower and use the toilet, brush my teeth, and collect my toiletries. His vanity looks bare without my stuff beside his.
I pull on the same clothes I wore yesterday and towel-dry my hair. I have to laugh when I look in the bathroom trash. I don’t even want to know how many condoms we used the last couple of days. I counted at least four last night alone. If there’s any consolation in my leaving like this, maybe it’s that he won’t be able to sleep with anyone else right away. At least not until he shops for more.
I shake my head and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. It’s stupid to even think this way. Shadow has more condoms in the GTO, and I’m sure every guy here has his own supply. If Shadow wants another woman once I’m gone, I can’t let myself cry over it.
I’m not his.
I never was.
Never could be.
I try to remind myself of that when I tiptoe past his sleeping form and pick up my bag. I turn to look back at him, and it happens. I let my eyes burn a second before I swipe the tears away, and then I turn very quietly and twist the knob.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Shadow is out of bed, his hand on my arm, before I can even open the door.
He’s naked, and it takes all my resolve not to tackle him, climb back into bed, and go back to sleep. To forget there is a world outside this compound that I have to get back to.
“I didn’t want to say goodbye,” I say, my voice breaking.
“So, don’t,” he says. His voice is low, and I can’t make out what he’s feeling.
Then it hits me.
I want to stay.
“Do you want to put on some pants?” I ask, taking in every inch of his naked body. I laugh to try to cover my emotions, but his face is an unreadable mask.
“No,” he says. “Sit.”
I sit on the couch beside him, and God love him, he plops his bare behind right down next to me. This might be the only time I’ve seen him naked when he wasn’t erect. I know the feeling. My heart feels like it’s dropped from my chest to the soles of my feet. I can’t even look him in the eye.
“Should I pay the club for the food or the shelter?” I ask. “The drinks, even. We pretty much polished off a whole bottle of whiskey.”
