Page 45 of Use Me Up

Instead, I make some kind of whine in the back of my throat and just nod.

“Take everything off for me,” he tells me, getting up to get a condom.

I strip down and lie down on my belly.

He comes over and rolls me onto my back. He sets down the condom next to me, and I see he’s brought over lube, too. He kneels between my legs, rubbing his hard cock over my clit, which feels delicious. He lubes me, rubbing my now slippery clit, which makes noises burst out of me, because it’s really nice.

He puts on the condom and slips into me. He uses his thumb to make circles around my clit as he makes shallow thrusts into me. “Hurts?” he whispers.

I shake my head.

“You’ll take me a little deeper then?”

“Yeah,” I breathe.

“Good girl,” he says, pressing into me, still toying with my clit. “Such a good girl for me, Hannah. You have no idea how much you turn me on.”

I want to believe that, I really do. But I don’t think I’m anything special to him at all. I’d be stupid to think I was.

He tries to fuck me and play with my clit, but he can’t quite keep the rhythm of either up, and he has me take over and play with my own clit.

Then he wraps his arms around my thighs and holds me against him while he thrusts into me. I look at his face while I play with my clit, and he looks down at my pussy, looks at his cock going in and out of me.

We both make a lot of noise.

He comes first.

He holds the condom in place, right at the base, and says he wants me to come on his cock, that he’s not pulling out until he feels me, and this actually tips me right over the edge and I clench against him as he’s softening inside me. I clench so hard I expel him and he likes that.

Afterward, he pulls me into his arms and he kisses me all over, planting little kisses on the tip of my nose, telling me I’m so fucking cute and sweet, and he likes how hot it is to corrupt me.

I don’t know how I feel about that, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t like that he fucked me face to face and I’d be lying if I said that I don’t really like this, aftercare, being in his arms, his mouth on mine, the way he’s being with me.

He groans. “Fuck. We forgot.”

“Forgot?” I say.

“We were going to dye your hair,” he says.

“Oh, yeah.” I remember that now.

“You’ll let me do it some other time,” he says, yawning, sure of this.

I snuggle in against him, lying on his chest, and he goes to sleep again.

It’s the middle of the afternoon.

But I don’t move. I lie there and I study his features and his body and I memorize every little bit of him, because I know this doesn’t last forever, and I want to remember this, to have this memory to take out, unfold, smooth out, and relive. This is all I’m going to have, memories like this.

It feels so good to feel as if he wants me.

I know he doesn’t really, of course.

But, oh, God, does it feel so fucking good.

9

hannah