She goes to reply but chokes on her words, a sobbing moan falling between us. I pump into her faster, keeping the pulsing pressure on her clit, wanting her to come all over me. “That right, princess. I’m going to give it to you. I’m gonna fill you up over and over until it sticks.”
Releasing me, her hands shoot over her head, her torso bowing. “Holy shit. Oh my God. I’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Fuck.”
“Tell me, princess. Tell me what you want.”
“I want it,” she manages to gasp, the tension in her body increasing, so I ask, “Want what?”
I’m grunting with effort, wanting to keep her on the edge while also not completely wrecking her orgasm. “Say it, and I’ll let you come.”
She curses, her arms moving so one’s looped over my shoulder, the other under, so she’s wrapped around me fully. I freeze, dick jammed inside her, suspended over her as she comesalive, riding my cock in a frenzy. “Give me your baby, Ren. It’s mine. Please. You promised.”
Pure primal energy rushes through me at her words, spurring me into motion. Rolling my hips, I meet her frenzied pace, slamming into her as she drives upward, the slap of our skin an erotic cacophony in the otherwise silent room.
I try to hold back, to keep my orgasm at bay, but then her sob turns into a moan against my ear, “Come. Fucking come inside me, please, do it,” and I lose all reason, all control.
I thrust into her sharply, once, twice, before that heat in my spine and my balls ricochet, shoving me over the edge into euphoria. I push in as deeply as I can, my cock throbs, white-hot pleasure overwhelming me as my release fills her clutching depths.
Careful to keep most of my weight off her chest, I pump into her long after my orgasm finishes, ridiculously pleased with the proof of my fulfilled declaration oozing between us.
Eventually, she stirs beneath me, her hands moving between us, and I roll to the side, allowing her some space. She gives me a small close-lipped smile then rolls away, coming to her feet before I can make a grab for her.
Sprawling onto my back, I drawl, “Where are you going?”
She glances at me over her shoulder, giving me a funny look as she points in the direction she’s headed. The bathroom.
She disappears through the doorway, flipping on the light as she goes, but she doesn’t shut the door, something that typically would have bothered me. But right now, it doesn’t.
She returns quickly, immediately resuming her position next to me, resting on her side facing me. We watch each other for a few moments, enjoying a comfortable silence until she asks, “What are you thinking about?”
I smirk. Laugh. Then respond teasingly, “Just wondering how many of my boys you just flushed.”
Her eyes widen comically then she slaps me on the chest. “Oh my God, Ren. Stop!”
I laugh again, louder this time, and eventually she joins me, though likely just because I think I’m that funny. Eventually, my laughter dies down, and we both once again become quiet, only now we’re joined by the elephant in the room.
Not being one to avoid uncomfortable conversations, I say, “You gonna tell me why?”
She stills next to me; her eyes suddenly focused on a spot over my shoulder. “Why what?”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Cass. Don’t play stupid with me,” but she continues to avoid my gaze, so I add, “You don’t have to give me an in-depth explanation. Just give me something so I’ll understand.”
She sighs. Looks me dead in the eyes. “Red.”
I jerk back as if she physically slapped me, truly taken aback by her random use of her safe word. Her stare is challenging, almost belligerent, but beneath the surface of her bravado, I see something else. Worry. Sadness. Fear.
I swallow down my urge to call her out, to take her to task for going back on her earlier statement about open and honest communication. Holding her gaze, I count down from ten, then count down again when I’m still on the edge of responding without the grace she deserves in this precarious moment.
Finally, I nod, then turn away to adjust my pillow and then fix the blankets that we kicked to the bottom of the mattress. I spread it out over both of us, making sure she’s adequately covered while she watches me silently, warily.
I turn the lights off before lying on my back, once again adjusting the most uncomfortable pillow in all existence. She remains quiet, but then, she shifts as if she’s also moved onto her back.
Not wanting her to think I’m giving her the silent treatment, I roll toward her, extend my hand until I’m touching her. I feel around, quickly realizing my hand is on her hip because she has turned away from me.
Suddenly, the silence in the room takes on a heaviness I can’t explain, a tightness in my chest that’s foreign to me, but at the same time, achingly familiar. The initial ask for distance I could manage, but this—this—this is as dark as the deepest depths of the ocean.
Bottomless. Endless. Frigid.
So, I do the only think I can think of in the moment.
