“Please just give it to me, Nate.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck, Nate,” I yell out. “I need you to fuck me until I can’t think of anything else but you.”
The man shrugs a shoulder, acting a little too nonchalant for the things I’ve confessed. I let out a breath of exasperation, but it’s when I least expect it that I’m filled to the brim.
Gasping in shock, my back arches as I reel from the intensity while he groans sharply.
He’s giving it to me just how I asked for it. Fast and hard—it feels feral. As if all the pent-up frustration and desire pour out at once.
Skin-on-skin slaps echo through the room, the poor hotel bed frame banging against the wall until Nate wedges a pillow in between. It’s a sensory overload, one that’s too much to bear, but it fades into nothingness when I lock eyes with him. So kind. So tender. It’s only then that his pace slows, our moans mingling in a symphony only we could create.
“I feel bad for anyone hearing this,” Nate admits. “But a part of me secretly likes it.”
My brows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when his pace picks up again, and the feeling is fucked right out of me.
“Why?” I somehow croak out.
“Because they’ll know you’re mine.”
Fireworks go off at the word, and I come at that instant.
Mine.
Nate quickly joins in after with a loud grunt, shattering on top of me before nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck.
We stay like that for however long, chests meeting as we pant heavily. When he kisses my lips so sweetly, it boggles my mind that it’s the same man who took control of my body.
A cool breeze hits my skin when Nate finally lifts himself off me, rolling off the condom I didn’t notice he put on.
When I blink, he’s back with a warm towel, delicately swiping away the mess between my legs before tucking me beneath the sheets. He’s beside me moments later, bringing his body close to mine so we’re wrapped in each other’s warmth.
Our legs are all tangled up in each other as he runs his fingers through my hair. There might be a silence between us,but it doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable—it’s peaceful, like we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
“Where do we go from here?” Nate asks gently.
The question knocks the air out of my lungs.
As much as I’d like to say it’s unexpected or uncalled for, I know it isn’t. Nate is a good guy with a good heart, and it’s obvious that the connection between us is more than physical.
But I’m afraid that’s the problem.
“We weren’t supposed to fall into this together,” I voice my worries.
The hand running through my hair stills. Though my back is pressed against his chest, the space between us seems to grow large, loaded with refrained thoughts and uncertainty.
“I know,” Nate agrees on a sigh.
I nibble my bottom lip, liking the soothing effect of the slight pain.
How does one go from hating a person to wanting to be stuck to them in a couple of short months? September to the end of October—that’s all it took to shift us from one mess into another.
Ignorance is bliss, they say…and right now, I wish someone could inject me with a load of it.
While trying my hardest to concoct a response that could leave things between us open-ended and give this conversation the closure it needs, Nate shatters my train of thought.
“Go with the flow?” he proposes.
