I surge up and kiss him, fervent and grateful and so overwhelmed that I might actually cry after all, and I feel his left hand grip my hip tighter while his right brushes against me, a featherlight touch grazing my clit before he holds me open and plunges inside.
I breathe in so sharply it turns into a gasp, instinctively curling tighter under him even as the force of his cock stretches me, opens me, and my exhale turns into a shudder as he slowly draws back and then in again, somehow even deeper the second time.
“King—” I choke out.
“God,” Kingston rasps, lowering his lips to my neck. “If you say my name like that I’m not going to last.”
He kisses the side of my throat as I arch my body into him, his thrusts getting swifter like he can’t make himself slow down either—because I feel the tension coiling inside me already, wound up from his mouth and now aching around the strain, the burning friction of him fitting inside me. He moves over me, never slowing, and reaches to clasp my right hand in his left as his own right finds my nipple and thumbs it.
“Agh.”
The pleasure’s electric, a lightning bolt down my body. I don’t even know what sound I make, just that it earns me one of those rumbling moans from Kingston and another roll of my almost painfully stiff nipple.
I don’t want it to end, don’t want it to be over, now or anytime soon, and yet I’m losing grip. I’m powerless against what’s building in me, against the slick solid thrusts of his cockand the warmth of his lips on my mouth and the edge of his teeth on my neck.
“I’m…”
Kingston’s eyes fly open at the sound of my voice.
“I’m not going to make it,” I gasp. “I can’t…I have to…”
A tear is trickling out of the corner of my eye after all. I squint both of them shut and feel Kingston brush his thumb over my lips, my cheek. Feel him cradle my head in one broad hand.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Let go.”
I do.
Keening and clenching and clamping around him in frantic, thrumming waves that don’t seem to relent even as his arms lock around my body and he thrusts harder, faster, faster, and?—
Kingston buries his moan in my hair as he comes.
I can feel it, feel the actual hot pulse of his orgasm as he spills into me, and yet all I can do is let my eyes flutter shut. I am spent, swollen, tender, liquid, poured all out, wanting only to lie beneath him and let him take what he needs.
I’m yours.
I try so hard not to fall asleep, my head on his shoulder, his arms around me. I doze, and I wake, over and over. The room stays dark, but time is passing, and suddenly I don't want it to. I'd been so eager to simply get out of here, and now, now I want time to stop.
The next time my eyes flick open, I lean over and check Kingston's watch on the bedside table. 4:30. It'll be dawn soon. I can't stay here.
I roll to the side of the bed and start to get up, but Kingston's arm tightened around me. "Stay," he says.
My heart seizes. "I can't," I whisper. "If they notice I'm gone?—"
"I know," he says softly. "Just..." He sits up behind me, runs his hand through my hair. "Stay a little longer. Please."
I nod. I fall back into him, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me, staring at nothing, hearing only his breathing and mine. I want every second to go slower, every single one. And it won't.
Finally, I have to go, and this time he doesn't stop me. I start getting dressed as Kingston watches, and then he gets up, hands me my sweater, and when I pull it on, he takes my face in his hands.
"Listen," he says, "tomorrow, today, don't go anywhere. We'll come for you somehow, in your room. Just stay there."
"I will," I say. "I'll be careful."
One last time, he kisses me. Then I'm back in the hall, navigating the passages, feeling like I've left something of myself behind.
I make it back to the women's hallway, to my door, and slip in silently. I get back into bed, bed still dressed, and pull the blankets up. I stare at the ceiling, at the icons watching, knowing I'm not going to sleep. I'm too wired, too emotional, too everything.
A few more hours, I think.A few more hours and this will all be over.
