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“Biology,” he clips as I trace my fingers up and down, trying to memorize him.
I sink my hands in his dark chest hair. “This isn’t biology?”
“This is fucking madness.”
This time I definitely feel the shakes roaring through his body. His restraint is turning me on.
Fuck pain. Fuck everything. I want him to move.
I peek up at him through my eyelashes, feeling all kinds of reckless. “Am I so tight that you wanna move?”
His dick throbs again and the feeling of fullness increases.
“Yes.”
“Then move.” I rock against him and he groans.
“Stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” His arms almost vibrate with his control and he grips my ass tightly, trying to keep me still.
“I won’t. You made it all better when you were playing with my clit.” I shake my head, undulating against him again. “I want you to move, Simon.”
He drops his forehead over mine. “I’m trying to give you time to adjust to my size.”
“I’m totally adjusted.”
He chuckles lightly, and I feel his stomach clenching. I’m about to say something else to convince him when I hear the noises.
And laughter.
I freeze and so does he.
The sounds are walking closer. Footsteps and a muted conversation.
I press my palm over his heart as my breathing quickens. Someone is walking down the hallway. Someone is walking toward us, toward my room.
Simon’s staring into my eyes, his arms bunched up under my butt, keeping my trembling body from falling off. But his breaths aren’t erratic and choppy like mine. They are calm. I don’t understand it.
How can he be calm?
I clutch him tighter, winding my arm around his neck and grasping the collar of his half-opened shirt.
What if they take a peek inside my room through the window on the door and catch us together? I know we aren’t in their direct line of vision; that’s why I chose this wall but still.
What if they take me away from him? I’ll fucking scream this place down. I’ll claw and scratch at anyone who dares to take me away from him.
Not now. Not when I’ve felt him inside me. When he’s still throbbing and my restlessness is still there. I still want him to move. I still want to move.
My eyes are filling with water, the closer they get to my room. I bite my lip and keep staring at him, all still and silent and afraid and horny.
But then he moves, making me jerk.
I widen my eyes at him. His face is unforgiving and harsh as he moves again, flaring my lust even more.
“No, Simon,” I protest in the barest of whispers, shaking my head.
“Why not?” he says, slowly starting a rhythm, keeping me locked between the wall and him. “You said you were adjusted.”
“P-please.” I clench my eyes shut. “We can’t make a noise.”
He shifts on his feet and I hear a creak. It’s as loud as a siren and my heart is in my throat. I’m so terrified. But even my fear can’t mask the pleasure. It’s slowly spreading through my limbs as he pumps in and out lazily.
“Maybe we should.” He kisses the side of my mouth. “Maybe we should call them, yeah? They’ll stop this madness.”
“No. Please.”
My face is buried in his neck as I rock back against him. I can’t help it.
Even though they’re coming closer and closer and my heart’s beating like it might give out any second, I can’t stop this. I can’t stop the goose bumps, the fullness. The friction.
God, when he slides out and comes back in, I see stars. I feel the spark.
I’ve never felt this way before. Everything is heightened. My sense of smell. My ears. My sense of touch, taste. His skin tastes salty with sweat and probably lust and I can’t help but lick the side of his neck, his taut vein.
He does the same. He licks my throat, smells my skin just under my ear, as he keeps stroking me with his dick, grinding against my clit.
I’m burying all my moans in his flesh, and it’s a good thing because just then, we hear the loudest laugh.
They are here. They’ve come. Why else would they be walking this further down the hallway if not to come into my room? Mine’s the last one on this floor, located in a corner.
A tear rolls down my cheek and I hug him with everything I am.
Strangely, he hugs me back.
It makes me cry even more. It makes me move against him even more. He does the same. His strokes are faster than before. Like he wants to get his fill of me, use me up before they take me away. My pleasure shoots sky-high and so does my need to moan, make a sound.
God, please. Please, don’t let this be the end.
I suck on his neck, drink down his flavor. Even though my eyes are shut tight – I can’t look – my ears are on alert and my pussy is juicing up over his cock.
