“Don’t stop. Just…” I writhe again, unable to form words.
That’s fine too because I prefer biting into his neck as our speed increases.
“Keats.” It spills out of my mouth because his finger slipped between us to rub my clit. I’m so damn close, and I’m getting dizzy.
I can’t help it and look between us to see where we’re connected. The condom is glistening from my desire for him.
“You like the view?” he whispers into my hair.
“Your cock seems to be your best quality.”
He laughs under his breath and circles with a new pace around my clit. My body wants it too much.
“I’m going to…” I begin to convulse all over his cock, and my body shudders and a slur of curses comes out of my mouth.
“Fuck, that feels good.” His labored breath hints that he is close, and when my shaking begins to subside, he changes his rhythm, and not long after, he too comes undone.
Damn it.
This was better than I wanted it to be.
I just needed to work out some issues. I wasn’t expecting Keats to take me hard and for me to enjoy every second. Or wanting his mouth in other places or having the image of me riding him seared into my brain.
Keats stays inside me as we both slowly fall back to earth, with what we did now disappearing into the clouds that circle around us.
We nuzzle our noses for a brief second, one last touch that’s a slither of tender understanding, because we don’t need words to express that we maybe chipped away at our hostilities. Only maybe.
But the moment is brief. Keats pulls out of me and adjusts his shoulders as he takes a moment to gather himself. He studies me, and I’m completely destroyed, my hair a mess and my dress disheveled. The smirk that crawls on his mouth doesn’t feel vicious, it’s admiration, and I’m not sure it’s for his ability to deliver either. Instead, he is soaking me in, and it doesn’t calm the thunder roaring through my chest.
It's only for a second or two because his eyes then abandon me, because like me, he realizes the predicament we just found ourselves in.
My lips quirk out, contemplating what the next move is.
But my mouth stretches to one side because he’s spent and recovering after he came as hard as I did.
“I need to get rid of this,” he says, his eyes squeezing shut as he takes an audible breath, then his eyes pop open to glare at me with uncertainty.
Hopping off the table, I slip a bra strap up my arm. “And I won’t be here when you return.”
I debate finding my thong, but I would rather escape at the speed of light. Literally, we just went at it like wild animals, and it didn’t even take a debate.
“Yeah, sure.” He sounds drowsy.
When he walks away, I sigh and quickly make my escape.
Outside, the cool air shocks me into reality.
That did not just happen.
But it did.
And the scary part is that we may aggravate one another to no end, but that doesn’t seem to be the case once our clothes come off.
6
KEATS
I’m hungover.
