I didn’t think it was possible to make me moan and whine uncontrollably, cartoonishly and indulgent, but the amount of stimulation I’m taking in, it’s all I’m capable of. I feel, distantly, that I’m being played like an instrument, as he sits me on his lap, leaning me back against the glass as his washboard stomach tenses with each thrust, a perfect view of his throat as thosestrong forearms and all the angular lines in his wrists pluck at my most sensitive places.
I unravel. I can feel it build for the last few strokes, and then it just tips over the edge. He slams a scream out of me, my pussy convulsing fast and tight around his monster cock.
He fuckinggrowlsas he stiffens and slows.
If I thought he was coming before, I was wrong. Apparently he was just getting wet for me.
The burst, the flood, the reckoning of jizz that unleashes inside me is something I could not have predicted. The heavy stream of it is steady for several more thrusts, and it pours out of me each time he withdraws, only to plug up more within me. I have no doubt he’s entirely painted my uterus with his fucking seed.
Ellis leans heavily against me and the window, letting go of one of my legs so my foot can drop down. He nearly collapses into me, still hard cock trapped between us, the tip of his dick nestled within my folds, not entirely pulled out. I whimper as another load of cum, hot and thick, pulses over my hyper-sensitive clit.
If I thought my bones were jelly before, well, there’s barely enough left for me now to make a graceful descent to the shower floor. We both end up sitting on the ground, panting, slowly disentangling one limb at a time.
I’m not able to move after that. But he’s the one that goes out flying all the time; I’m not surprised that winded me when he’s still going.
I think about the pint of jizz he just fucked into me, and my body has the audacity to be turned on by the thought of it. Thepulse of arousal is almost painful against my over-sensitive bud. Against the aftershocks of my orgasm, it makes me whimper.
Actually, it’s better that this happened in the shower. Even if I can’t just roll over into a nice soft bed and instantly fall asleep, it beats having to clean all this up later.
Eventually, we’re going to have to get up and towel off. The water might run cold first. I still haven’t actually put conditioner in my hair yet, and I’m at a level of exhaustion where I don’t think I will. I’ll just have dry, stringy hair.
Ellis pulls me into his lap, his body a soft refuge for mine against all the tile.
I kiss him again, desperate to take each one I can, greedy for his mouth, his focus. My tongue sweeps over the tips of his teeth, finding the sharp, pronounced canines that frame his smile.
“Lacey,” he groans into my mouth. There it is again, my name and nothing else, the feeling of something just withheld.
I want him to just tell me what’s on his mind, what he’s thinking. I want to know if this is as earth shattering for him as it is for me.
I don’t know if it’s possible to have a loosely defined, not really sure where these feelings are leading, sort of relationship with someone like him. It’s not like he’s going to take me out on dates and go for long walks through the park and shake my father’s hand when I bring him home to Idaho to meet my family.
I can’t help but think about everyone out there looking for him, and it’s just my body and this glass between them and him.
For just this moment, I have him all to myself.
13
Ellis
My watch goes off early in the morning, way before I’m ready. I’ve been awake for maybe twenty minutes, watching Lacey like some kind of lovelorn fool. Lying in bed with her is too good to sleep through. The sheets smell so deeply like her; her body is so warm curled up against mine, I don’t care that where my arm disappears under her pillow has lost all circulation.
There’s something so perfect about the way her hair spreads out over the pillow while she’s asleep, I can’t put it into words. I don’t want to get up, to leave this perfect moment.
But I’ve got some errands to run.
I rub her back until she rolls over and kisses me. Her eyes flutter open only briefly. “Morning.”
“Morning. Hey, uh, I have to duck out for a minute. I won’t be long, you can probably just sleep in, and I’ll be back before you wake up,” I murmur against her cheek.
“You can’t use the elevator without my building key,” she mumbles, making a gesture in the direction of her nightstand where her phone is charging, a couple pieces of rice still stuck to the case.
“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on—” I start to say, when she hums, stretches, and then rolls over, stealing the majority of the covers to bundle over herself, asleep again in an instant.
The phone in question lights up with a text from Steel, and I find myself staring at it from afar, until it darkens again.
Yeah, I’m not even going to touch it.
My flying suit is still a gross wet pile on her bathroom floor, so I look around for something else to wear. There’s a set of men’s gray sweatpants and sweatshirt in her closet that I’m going to have to borrow. Pulling them on, I’m trying not to think about who they might have belonged to at any particular point in history. There’s something undignified about having to wear the previous guy’s clothes.
