“I’m here, Elizabeth, I’m here.”
I wrap my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, so tightly I worry he won’t be able to breathe, but it’s also not tight enough. We’re kissing with an intensity I’ve never known before, as though if we don’t, the world will end. My hips grind up against him, his cock already hard and sending sensations through my body.
“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry—”
“No talking,” I interrupt, “I need you inside me.”
I release him from my grip, and he kneels up, tugging my pants off faster than I’ve ever seen him move before undoing his own. The floor is cold underneath me but I don’t care, instead focusing on gripping his shirt and pulling him back to me. He claims my mouth in a kiss, grinding against me, moving his hand between us to touch me.
“Always so wet for me,” he groans, before lining himself up with my entrance, and slowly inching his cock into me.
“No,” I say, “I need you to fuck me.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Don’t be gentle, please, I need to feel you.”
He thrusts into me, gripping my hair with one hand and my hip with the other, using my body as leverage to fuck evendeeper inside me. He feels so good when he fills me like this, but I need more. I lift one of my legs onto his shoulder, so as he thrusts he rubs against my clit; all the while he’s trying to remain in constant contact with me everywhere, like even though he’s inside me, it’s not enough for him.
Our bodies move together, in that way that comes from familiarity, and knowing the other person, we seem to fit together so perfectly. My pussy starts to pulse; it won’t take me long to reach my peak.
“Fuck, Elizabeth,” he moans, feeling me clench around him.
“I’m gonna come!”
My orgasm washes over me, my body shuddering and pulsing, and I feel him do the same. He lowers his body onto mine, limbs entangled and sweaty. I’m still in the aftermath of my orgasm while he kisses my shoulders and my neck, before adding bites which make me tremble with oversensitivity. His hands run over my body, tracing the lines of my curves, alternating between soft caresses and rough squeezes.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, touching me everywhere he can.
“You were a real asshole you know,” I say, as we’re curled up next to each other on the kitchen floor after both falling asleep again.
“I know.”
“You’re doing that agreeable thing again.”
“Yup.”
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
“I can wait.”
I sigh. “It’s really hard to stay mad at you when you keep agreeing with me.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You’re a dick.”
He chuckles softly. “Whatever you say, princess.”
I trace one of the tattoos on his chest with my finger, he’s still mostly clothed but I’ve pried some buttons open since we’ve been lying here.
“How do I know I can trust you again?” I ask, “The way you turned so quickly, how do I know that what we had was real?”
He rolls us over so I’m on my back and he’s looking down at me, silhouetted in the dark.
“The last two months with you is the most real I’ve ever been. When I’m with you, it’s the only time I’ve ever really felt like myself. Take away the club, take away my father, I wasn’t anything… until you.”
I don’t know what to say to that, my feelings are all tangled up inside. But I remind myself that he’s here, and that even though I haven’t forgiven him, he’s staying.
