Jesse’s hand grasped my hair, pulling on it unlike when I was in the shower, when he’d let me set the rhythm.
“That feels good, Jerrica, but I want you on your hands and knees. Time to fill that pussy again.”
My groan sounded almost painful, his words making it feel as if my orgasm had never happened. I moved like he was pulling my strings, hands and knees on the grass, my vest still pushed up above my breasts.
Jesse cupped them as he positioned himself behind me, his cock resting on my ass, his fingers pulling at my nipples sharply as he bit my neck, hard enough to leave a mark.
“Going to fuck you hard, baby.” He moved back, one of his hands moving between my legs, cupping my sex, his finger pressing against my clit and then pushing into my centre, one finger, then two, roughly thrusting into me.
“So fucking wet for me. Let’s see how much wetter you get.” His hand left me, his cock replacing his fingers seconds later, his hands gripping my hips as he pushed all the way inside me in one smooth thrust.
His pace was wicked. Within moments, I was boneless, only his name decipherable from the words that poured from my lips, words he ignored, simply carrying on moving my hips, using me to fuck him, pulling a second and then a third orgasm out of me, telling me how good I was, how he loved being inside me. He came with my hair wrapped around his fist, the pull morphing into sharp pleasure as I felt him come, his warm wetness filling me up like he’d promised.
I expected him to pull out straight away, to do up his shorts and pass me my underwear.
He didn’t.
Still inside me, still hard, he pulled me with him so we spooned on the ground, his arms wrapped around me, one cupping my breast, his mouth at my neck, pressing kisses that were soft and sweet against the delicate skin there.
I turned my head, just about able to find his lips with mine, and stole a messy kiss, his hand on my breast busying itself with tender touches.
He was still hard, his hips starting to move again.
“Jesse?”
I heard him exhale. “I can pull out — if you’re sore or want to stop. It won’t be like what we just did.”
A thrill went through me, not at the fact that that I had found an actual unicorn — I could deal with that later — but that he’d moved from what I knew was his controlled comfort zone to a place that wasn’t all about staying within that carefully set paradigm.
“I’m good.” I was more than good.
Jesse moved slowly, careful movements that weren’t as deep as before — the position on our sides didn’t allow for that. His hand slipped lower to my clit, toying with it with the same rhythm as his hips, somehow working me towards another climax.
“I don’t think I can come again. I’m sorry.” I moved my hand back to palm his tight ass.
“Don’t ever apologise. Just enjoy it. It isn’t always about coming.”
I did, though. His release, the feel of him throbbing inside me again triggered mine, not as powerful as before, but enough to bring tears to my eyes, my body wrapped in his, all the words either of us had gone.
In the weeks that followed, I’d often think about that afternoon under the Mediterranean sun; how the breeze made the trees whisper stories about lovers who snuck away and how the birds sang songs about hearts that somehow found another to belong with.
And I’d wonder how it could be snatched away because of someone else’s bad dream.
CHAPTER13
Jesse
My therapist didn’t makeany observation about how I looked any different, but either that was her job, or I was simply the fucking same as I had been a couple of weeks before.
She was older than I first remembered. A stupid statement, as I’d been seeing her for years, and people aged, but today, after living a life I didn’t recognise with a woman I knew I wasn’t good enough for, my therapist looked like she’d aged too much.
“Will you ever retire?”
Probably not the most subtle thing to ask a woman, but Jane wouldn’t tell me to fuck off.
“One day. But let’s start with how you’re feeling insecure about things that you have no control over.” She looked up at me with eyes that already knew too much and not enough.
“What do you mean?”
