“What?” he says, leaning back to look at me.
“I am going to come,” I say. “And soon...”
“Good.” He almost grunts and starts to move his hips in a circle. “Because I want to watch you come.”
“Are you close?” I somehow manage to ask in a breathy exhale.
“Close enough.”
“Oh, Marty,” I say as I feel myself slip past the point of no return.
“Come for me, Jenna.” He speeds up a little, still fully in control, which I realise I need in this moment. I need him to fuck me, for him to be the one in charge.
“Yes, like that, don’t stop,” I mumble, closing my eyes.
“Come for me, Jenna,” he says again. But it’s his next words that undo me. “Give me something to remember you by when we’re apart.”
I do as he says. Panting and moaning and saying his name, my body convulsing, and small high-pitched gasps leaving my lips when another strong surge comes out of nowhere. When I finally open my eyes, a warm glow spreading through my body, I watch as the strain is back on his face and in his arms and chest. Lifting my head, I graze my teeth over the bump in his nose like I did the first night we met.
“Come inside me, Marty,” I say. “Make me never forget you.”
And he does. Pushing up on his hands, he starts thrusting in earnest and a few seconds later, I feel the heat and the force of him spilling inside me once, twice, three, maybe four times, all the while swearing and cursing and saying my name. When he slows down gradually, rocking into me still as if he can’t stop himself, I feel the familiar crescendo of another orgasm build and I can’t stop my hands from pushing him down on me with more force.
“Oh, God,” is all I can manage to say as I come again. I close my eyes, feeling him watch me, feeling him smile at me, feeling him love me.
Eventually, Marty collapses on me and his weight brings me back down to Earth. I know I should pee. I know I should clean up. I know I should try and stay awake so the day isn’t wasted, but I can’t. I can’t do anything but pray that he never gets off me.
“I’m fucken shattered. Will we have a short nap?” he whispers in my ear.
I don’t have the energy to reply. I don’t even have the energy to lift my own body and get under the covers, so when I feel Marty move off me, and then gently lift my torso and move me so my head hits the pillow, I let him do it all. The only things keeping me awake are the fact Marty is not in bed next to me, and that there’s a new dampness seeping out of me, but a few seconds later, I feel a warm wet towel between my legs and a kiss on my belly button. Marty is cleaning me. Moments later he slides into bed beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist.
And then I fall asleep, still not wanting to squander my time with him, but also knowing this is anything but wasted time.
The Last Sunset
“Sunsets are proof that endings can often be beautiful too.”
– Beau Taplin
Chapter Forty-One
Jenna
We sleep for longer than I would like, but when I open my eyes, roll over and see his face at rest, blissed out, relaxed, it’s worth it. I stroke his chest as it rises and falls. I kiss his shoulder and put my nose to his skin and inhale it.
We are so animal when we love. It’s all about smells and touch and what our gut tells us is right. It’s not perfect or logical, but it’s instinctive and real. It’s not an exact or predictable science, but a heady mix of chemicals and magic. There is only so much logic that can explain why I feel the way I feel about him, and it’s that missing element of sense that makes it all so enchanting. It’s that part of the equation that I want to excavate and examine under a microscope, but also happily let it be wild and unwieldy.
My thoughts and gaze have drifted far away from this moment and by the time Marty stirs under me and my gaze lands back on his face, it startles me that his eyes are open and fixed on mine.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” he says.
“You want to go swim? Take a jacuzzi? Play another round of Scrabble? Or cash in your bet from earlier?” I waggle my eyebrows and he laughs.
“I want to do it all.” He reaches for me, pulls me to him as his arm goes around my waist. “What time is it? Do we have time to do it all?”
I glance at my watch. “It’s nearly three. We have time to do it all, but we do need to make sure we fit something else in. Something more important than anything.”
