"Adrian," I sob. "I can't."
"Yes, you can," he says. "Let go, baby. I'm right here. I'll catch you. Come with me." His pace quickens, and I know that he's close too. The thought of him losing control, of him finding his release inside me, is the final push I need.
He is chasing his own pleasure now, and the thought is so powerful, so hot, that it pushes me over the edge with him.
I am aware of Adrian calling my name as I ride the wave of pleasure. A low groan is ripped from him as my pussy clamps down on him, milking his dick for all it's worth. I feel a hot gush of fluid inside me, and the thought of him marking me from the inside out sends another, smaller wave of pleasure through me.
We ride it out together, our bodies moving in perfect sync, until we are both spent, breathless, and completely sated.
I collapse against him, my body limp and boneless. My head is on his shoulder, and I can feel the frantic, wild beat of his heart, a perfect mirror of my own.
My entire body is trembling.
Adrian is still inside me, nestled perfectly, and I don't want him to move any time soon.
I couldn't move if I wanted to, in fact. I definitely don't want to.
I just want to stay here, wrapped in his arms, forever.
My mind is starting to clear, the hazy fog of lust giving way to a new kind of awareness.
I am keenly aware of the sticky mess between my thighs, of the pleasant ache in my muscles, of the heavy, comforting weight of his arm around me.
And of the silence.
The silence in the room is heavy. The kind of heavy that happens after something big and significant has passed.
Something that has changed everything.
I don't want to break it. I don't want to talk.
It doesn't seem like he wants to either because he snuggles me in closer to his body, and his hand strokes my hair gently. I can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, and I find myself matching my breathing to his.
It's comforting.
It's safe.
It's an odd thought.
There aren't many times in my life that I've felt unsafe. In the stairwell, running away from men chasing us with guns. A few other times in my life, sure.
The obvious times. It's not necessarily that I've felt unsafe throughout my life.
But right now, lying in Adrian's arms, I realize that I'm not sure I've ever felt truly safe. The way you don't realize how loud the music was until it's turned off. I didn't realize that I never felt safe until just now.
Because with him, with this, I do.
I know it's an illusion. A temporary reprieve from the reality of our lives. He is a soldier, a weapon. He is here because he is paid to be here, because he was ordered to be here. He is not mine.
But it doesn't feel like that.
It feels real.
The thought is a little terrifying.
It's too much. Too soon.
I try to push it away, to focus on the feeling of his skin against mine, the steady beat of his heart.
