“I want to keep you, Jules. Strap you to this table. Keep you open and waiting. I want to use you like this, let you use me. Over and over, until we’ve both had enough.”
“Oh, God.” Her voice has edged up into a whine. “Oh, no. I’m coming. Colin, you’ve got to…”
Her pussy clenches, spasming round my cock. She shudders, tightens, her hands grasping tight at my arms, scratching, the movement as thoughtless and wild as the heavy slap of my balls against her.
“Colin,” she screams, her gaze on me as she goes under and I’m close. Fuck, so close.
“This is mine, isn’t it?” I slam deep. Slam home.
“Yours,” she whispers, her head thrown back, her chest heaving. She’s so tight I can barely move, but it’s enough. It’s enough.
Then, through pained-sounding vocal cords, she says my name one last time.
“Colin.”
That’s it. I’m gone.
Electricity shoots down my spine to my balls and while my mouth pours out words I can no longer keep track of, my cock pulses with the first hot jet of my release. It’s almost painful to shut my eyes on the sight of her body, but I can’t keep them open. Can’t handle more than one sensation as I experience the longest, most powerful orgasm of my life.
Halfway through, I say something I know I’ll regret.
I’m so gone, I don’t even care.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Jules
“Don’t go.”
I’m still floating when he says it, but now it’s here, in the air above me, settling on my skin.
Unless I imagined it, which I’m almost sure of until he says more.
“Stay.”
One word, but it’s big. It feels like more than four letters. Big enough to fill up my chest.
His hands grip my hips and inside me he convulses with an orgasm that looks as intense as mine was. From the look on his face, I’d say maybe more.
I want to kiss that hard mouth, that tense jaw. I want to run my hands through his wild hair, over the shoulders whose heft shouldn’t have to carry all the weight he drags around with him every day.
He’s a big, strong man, I know, but he’s mortal, too. A human, crumbling under too much sadness, guilt, loss and probably a good dose of toxic masculinity to boot.
My body shudders with a delayed reaction to that climax, which was above and beyond anything it’s been put through before. I mean, it was good. Amazing. And also almost scary in how hard it hit me. From the inside, exploding out.
Gratitude, or something like it, wells up beside the other stuff that’s prematurely raised its too-tender head. As I watch him, waiting for his eyes to open and his fists to unclench and for something other than that grim, gritted-teeth look on his face to appear, the endorphins fizzle out and the cold counter I’m lying on registers and I start to wonder if we’ve pried ourselves open too wide, let too much spill out in such a short time.
With a final squeeze, he releases the air he’s apparently been holding, along with all that tension. Then he opens his eyes with what looks exactly like happiness and something unlatches inside of me and my chest gets all squirrely and…
No. No, no, no. I don’t want this. I don’t want these feelings. Not now. Not right when I’m leaving, when responsibility’s calling me away and every one of my instincts is telling me to go. Get out while I can. Before this place and this man get their claws into me. Before it hurts.
In the silence, a smile breaks out on his face and it’s soul-crushingly sweet. He looks soyoung. And here I am, with his thick, still-hard erection deep inside me, thinking of running away.
I shut my eyes and swallow back the panic and guilt.
I’m not running. That’s not what I do. What I do is travel, discover, expand my horizons. What I do is move forward, take in more and more and more. It’s not avoidance if you’re runningtowardsthe next thing.
When I look at him again, the smile’s gone, his expression’s quizzical.
