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“I’ll always be here,” he says with a smile, and I can’t help but offer him a wide and genuine smile. He means what he has just said.
“I know,” I whisper, taking my hands to his face and kissing him. My lips linger on his and, for a moment, we’re alone in the universe. I place one hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against my palm, and then he pulls me into him.
Spreading my legs, I climb on top of him and straddle him. I reach for his crotch and flatten the palm of my hand there, feeling his cock harden steadily against my fingers. I press my forehead against his and, looking into his eyes, I unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. He lifts his body a few inches from the couch, and that’s enough for me to push his boxers down and send them to his knees.
Grabbing his cock with my hand, I start stroking him softly, desire spreading its wings inside me. Instinct takes the steering wheel and, with my free hand, I grab my dress and hike it up to my waist. I flick my now wet thong to the side and guide his cock home, exhaling sharply as I feel its tip pushing its way past my pussy lips. Easing myself down, I only stop when his long inches are all inside of me, and then I throw both my arms over his shoulders.
I rock my hips back and forth, taking my time as I build up a rhythm. Right now, there’s more than lust dictating my pace; I feel closer to Sloane, his kindness toward me making me almost desperate for his embrace.
I thought that his body was engineered for fucking and not lovemaking. But I was wrong. Because right now we aren’t fucking; we’re making love. And it’s exactly what I needed now.
In his arms, I forget about everything, all the worry drifting away like leaves carried by the autumn wind.
Our bodies move in unison as if we are one, and we remain in silence just like that, our flesh making all the talk. Words are unnecessary; all I need is to feel him inside of me, his cock pulsing steadily as he rocks his hips against mine. He’s breathing hard, as hard as me, and the way he groans makes me close my eyes and smile. Yes, despite everything, I can still smile.
As long as Sloane remains with me, I can be happy.
Our rhythm grows fast and, thrusting harder, Sloane tangles his fingers in my hair and yanks on it, forcing me to throw my head back. He kisses my neck, nibbling at my tender skin, and then rolls over. Without taking his cock out of me, he lays me down on the couch and starts pistoning hard, his lips now locked on mine.
I kiss him all the way into oblivion, my body tensing up like straight wire. I feel my inner walls tightening up around his cock and I pull back from his kiss, moaning as an orgasm shoots up from my pussy and spears my brain.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I urge him to keep going, still swaying my hips as he fucks me. I want him to go all the way, and he doesn’t need me to tell him that; he can read that in my eyes.
“Fuck,” he groans, more to himself than to me, and then I feel his cock spasming violently inside my pussy. A second later, he starts gushing his warm seed into me, the ropes of muscles in his arms and chest bulging against his skin as pleasure takes over him. “Oh, fuck,” he repeats, his cock giving its final spasms inside of me, strands of cum dripping out of me and pooling on the couch underneath my body.
Pulling his cock out of me, Sloane sits up on the couch, his head thrown back against the headrest as he tries to catch his breath. I sit up by his side and reach for his hand, gently squeezing it in mine. I look into his eyes, and what I see forces me to turn my thoughts into words.
“You felt it too,” I whisper, pursing my lips as my heart calms down.
“Yeah,” he admits in a low, sorrowful tone.
As good as this was, sex without Drake simply isn’t the same; I know it, and he knows it. We’ve become three matching pieces and, now that one has gone rogue, we’re like an incomplete puzzle.
“Fuck this,” Sloane says suddenly, going up to his feet and pulling his pants up. “Let’s get out of here. I know what we need right now.”
I look at him and run my tongue between my lips, having no idea what could possibly make things better. It’s not like we can stroll into Drake’s office and force him to become the person we want (need) him to be.
