Page 5 of Use Me Up

I feel my body tighten.

“Uh, okay,” he says and his voice trembles. “Maybe, uh, roll over?”

Seriously? I make a noise, maybe of protest, maybe of surrender, but I do it, rolling over so that I am belly down on the bed.

He’s moving onto the bed, behind me. I feel his weight there. I smell the scent of rain. He’s closer now, and his hand settles warmly against the curve of my hip. He lifts me. His other hand is fumbling at his pants. So, I guess, I’m going to be naked, but he’s not, because I feel the press of his wet jeans against my bare thighs.

Thunder crashes outside.

I jump, but he doesn’t react. I hear the condom tearing.

His hand settles against the small of my back, warm and huge. His voice is quiet in the darkness. “There will be someone else,” he says to me. “You’ll just… with him… you can pretend this never happened.”

What the fuck? He’s insane.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He’s lifting me, raising my hips, parting my legs, making room for himself between them. I feel the press of something hard and firm and covered in latex sliding around against me, because… embarrassingly… I’m insanely wet.

“I’m sorry, for whatever it’s worth,” he says, and then he reaches between us and lines himself up and—

I gasp.

“You’re okay,” he says. “You’re all right, Hannah, it’s fine. You can take me. I’m an omega. I’m not that big.”

Lie, lie, lie. He’s huge, and he’s filling me up, and I’m stretching everywhere, and I hold my breath as I feel him penetrating me deeper and deeper and deeper.

My breath comes out ragged and uneven. I put my face into the pillow to try to muffle the noises I’m making. I’d be lying if I said this felt good, but it doesn’t feel bad either. It’s very, very intense. I can’t concentrate on anything except the part of my body that’s being entirely invaded by him, and I think I’m, um, whimpering.

“Am I hurting you?” His voice sounds strained. “You have to say if it hurts.”

“No, no,” I say into the pillow. “Doesn’t hurt.”

“You don’t like it.” Now, there’s this knowing lilt to his tone, something that seems to reach into the middle of me and take me apart.

I really whimper, right into the pillow.

“You don’t like it.” He’s fucking me now, his hips moving as he drags himself in and out of me. “You don’t.”

I keep making noise. I don’t know why. I don’t even mean to, but it’s like whatever he’s doing, whatever part inside my body that he is hitting again and again in that rhythmic pattern he’s found, slamming inside me, dragging all the way out, slamming back in, it’s connected to something in my throat, and I can’t stop myself from letting out little cries.

He grabs hold of my hips, digging his fingers into me, holding me in place while he just keeps fucking me. “I’ll be quick,” he pants.

Too late.

But it doesn’t go on for much longer than that.

He finishes and he pulls out and he’s off the bed immediately, leaving me lying there. I look over my shoulder at him, holding up his jeans as he flounders around. He finds the door to the bathroom, goes in there, and I register that he’s getting rid of the condom.

He’s back too soon, and I haven’t moved.

He hesitates in the dark, zipping his pants. “Shit,” he says.

I laugh. It’s another of my stupid, too loud laughs. I sound like a braying donkey or something. I can’t believe this has just happened, that I just let this happen, and I don’t have any idea how I feel about it.

“So, uh, okay. That’s done,” he says.

I’m still laughing. Am I ever going to stop laughing?

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” he says, starting for the door.