“Fuck, you’re wringing everything out of me. I’m not gonna last. Never gonna last when you milk me like tomorrow’s not promised.”
“Please, Knox. I want your cum inside me. Do whatever you want to me. I just—I need tofeelyou,” she whimpers, slurring through dropped vowels, reaching her arm back so she can twine it behind my neck.
She pulls us closer—so close that I can’t tell where one of us ends and the other begins.
“You’re gonna feel me, baby. I promise. You’re perfect likethis, stretching around me, using me just like you should,” I whisper, skirting the head of my cock around that sensitive spot inside her, dangling her release right in front of her before yanking it away.
Her walls tighten around my girth so hard that I momentarily lose airflow to my brain, and the heat in this glass coffin turns into a nuclear summer in a matter of minutes.
Our pace slows, but the passion is still there. We both bask in the torture—all sense of urgency extinguished—the internal hub of my body bracing for the throes of my cresting orgasm.
“Can’t believe I haven’t paid any attention to my two favorite girls yet.” I snake my hand over her tit, peeling it up from the glass and rubbing my thumb over her nipple.
Staten lets loose all kinds of animalistic sounds, and I realize that I’ve gravely neglected one of her most responsive erogenous zones. My fingers knead the heft of her breast. “I would turn you around and suck those perky nipples until you squirted if I wasn’t so deep inside you. Plus, the view is one in a goddamn million—arching your back like the dirty girl I know you are. Don’t even get me started on this fuckable ass.”
“I didn’t realize Knox Mulligan was an ass guy.”
“I’m ayouguy.”
I’m hitting my limit and judging by the staccato-like sequence of her breaths, she is too. With the last of the fading firelight inside me, I pound into her over and over again, forceful enough to break the glass if we aren’t careful. In my defense, it’s a flimsy thing. Needs to be replaced.
My hand moves up from her chest, and I crook my thumb into her mouth, letting her suck on it to hold her over. My girl strangles my dick, a rendition of squelching and slapping rising over the consistent pitter-patter of water. On my last thrust, my balls draw up tight in pretense, and I have no idea what’s happening until my climax crashes over me like a power line collapsing in the middle of a storm.
Hot cum shoots directly into her pussy—barricaded in by my softening cock—and the gush of warmth triggers her to come all over me, drenching my length in semi-white fluid and mingling with my tacky release. She melts against the glass—ravaged by both the heat and the well-intentioned fuck—and I don’t waste any time pulling out of her so I can finally see her face.
When I gently flip her around, postcoital tears dwell on her waterlines, and her cheeks are redder than the tender innards of a blood orange.
My tone curls with concern, and I reach for the shower knob to turn down the temperature. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Get used to it, baby. You can have me in any position you want during any time of the day.”
Trickles of arousal slather the insides of her thighs—converging into one stream that races downwards—and I push my cum back up inside her with two fingers.
Staten interlinks her arms behind my neck, pulling me flush against her body, my belly pressed against hers, and my cock finally hanging limp. I can tell there’s something bothering her—it’s in the way her eyes dart downwards and her bottom lip bleeds under her teeth.
I caress the side of her face. “Hey. What’s wrong? Did I go too hard? Was that too much?”
“No, I just…I can’t stop thinking about Leif,” she confesses.
“That’s one way to kill the mood,” I joke.
“I told him that I don’t want anything to do with him if he can’t respect our relationship.”
Oh, Staten. My Staten. The girl who has a big enough heart for everyone.
I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look me in the eyes, and I’m not sure whether her tears are sepulchral or a drowsy aftereffect. They fleck her long, curled lashes, clinging to the finebristles like the water droplets that cling to her goose bump-scattered body.
“You don’t have to worry about him, okay?”
Refractory guilt makes a guest appearance. “He never used to be like that. He was so kind. I pushed him to become a person I don’t recognize.”
I shake my wet hair, chasing away a fallen tear with the pad of my thumb. “It was his choice to react the way that he did. You can’t blame yourself for the decisions he made. The only thing we both have in common is how much we care for you, and if he wants to get back into your good graces, I’m not going to stop him.”
“Why would you give him a second chance? After the way he’s treated you?”
“Because you gave me a second chance when I definitely didn’t deserve it. You taught me that forgiveness isn’t weakness.”
