“Come inside of me,” I demand. “Come in me, please.”
Using coercion on him here might be a bit unnecessary, considering how close to finishing he looks, but I want to feel that warmth before my own orgasm dies down. I want to experience this euphoria with him.
Nate shudders, groaning out his pleasure as he releases inside of me. “Fuck you. God, fuck,you’re a menace. But it’s so good, so fucking perfect inside of you.”
Hot, thick emotion builds inside of me. He’s filling me up, making me so full and contented that I can do nothing but goboneless and stare up at him as he fucks his come further into me.
“Again,” he pants out. “We’re doing it again. I can’t—ugh, I can’t get enough of you.”
Nate flips me over, pulling my hips up until I’m presented fully to him before shoving back inside of me, thrusting with abandon.
I guess thesweet and gentlemethod is gone, because all that’s left is his desperation and my own need as we both groan and grind and lose ourselves to one another.
And it truly does feel like claiming, like clicking into place.
Finally.
We spend the entire day like that. With Nate pounding me into the mattress and my dick exploding with unbelievable pleasure.
The sweet, gentle nature he had created in the beginning only lasted so long. As soon as he flipped me onto my stomach, Nate was back to his normal self. And so was I, as I rode him for what felt like forever, edging his next orgasm.
It was fantastic. Life-changing.
Until this morning, that is.
“I’m just saying; it might be good for you,” Nate presses.
“I think I prefer you focusing on my downfall, thanks,” I shoot back, dripping with sass and slight anger.
His eyes narrow, his arms tightening around me where we lie on the bed. The morning sun is peeking in through the curtains as he holds me, both of us on our sides.
“You’re impossible to please. All I meant was that having him as a friend again might lessen some of your stress.” He’s talking about Julian.
I kind of miss when he’d get irritated if I brought him up—at least then Nate wasn’t trying to persuade me into talking things out with him. Or telling him about my, uh, depression.
But he’s also not necessarily wrong, and I do miss my best friend. So as I eye Nate, giving him a disapproving look, I crack.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll go talk to him before he leaves.”
“Better get going then,” Nate instructs, slapping my ass hard, then hopping out of the bed. “I’ll, uh, call you. Alright? In the next few days, I’ll call.”
He seems nervous about something. I can’t tell if there’s something else on his mind or if this weird shift in our atmosphere has him freaked out.
But he’s promised to call, and if he does try to disappear, I know where to find him.
“Whatever,” I grumble, putting my clothes back on as he watches me.
“It’ll be fine,” he assures me, and as I grab the rest of my belongings and give him a long, measured look, I decide he’s right.
He’ll call, after all.
“Later,” I reply gently, leaving him leaning against the kitchenette as I slip out the door.
The shift between us is weird and uncomfortable, even I can acknowledge that. But I like it. I like where we are now. It’s almost like hecaresabout me. And I believe him.
Maybe now we can move on to something greater. Maybe I can keep him. Maybe he never had an evil agenda I couldn’t understand, and all I was seeing was an overly righteous, annoying asshole with an amazing cock.
I candefinitelyget behind that.
