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So, so right.
I was made for him. Every part of my body is his for the taking.
Zach groans with every inch he gains inside of me and his needy, horny sounds are pushing me over the edge.
My entire world is centered on him right now.
At his breaths, his sounds, his fingers digging into my hips, his dick inside my ass, forcing the parts of my body open that I never thought possible.
Panting and gently moving inside of me, he says, “I’ll never forget this, Blue. I’ll never forget how it feels…” He pauses to emit a groan and splay his palm open on my lower stomach. “How it feels to be inside your ass. So hot and tight and how you’re letting me in even though it’s hurting you.” His thumb tucks into my belly button and he finds that vein again, the one that binds us, making it swell up. “I’ll dream about this, Blue. I’ll miss this when I’m gone.”
Just as his words die out, I come.
My cunt gushes because he said he’ll miss it. He’ll miss being inside of me. It might be pathetic to some, but to me, it’s everything.
He’ll miss me. Even though it’s only my body, but he will miss me.
I come so hard and violently that I don’t even notice when Zach gets in completely.
His entire cock is buried in my ass as I spasm around him. And it’s too much for him, I think. Because he comes too.
His erection throbs inside my ass. I feel every lash, every jerk of his dick as he empties himself inside of me.
When he’s done, he wraps his arms around my waist and plasters his wet, panting chest to my back.
Good thing, too. Because I really have no energy for anything right now.
Gently, Zach detaches himself from me and turns me around. Blinking, I look up at him just in time to notice his lips coming down on mine.
He kisses me under the shower.
Kisses me and kisses me until my lips go numb and I grow sleepy. Then, he washes me up like I did him and carries me to bed.
Zach lays me down, all drenched with the shower, and comes between my thighs.
I open them wide and wind my arms around his neck.
“I don’t want to tire you out,” he says, settling himself over my body, his cock hard and ready again, nudging my core.
“You won’t,” I tell him, sleepily but surely.
“Blue –”
Reaching up somehow, I kiss him. “You said you’d fuck me in both my holes. Can’t go back on your promise now.”
Zach sweeps his gaze all over my face before shaking his head once and entering my wet channel.
It’s a slow, sweaty fuck.
Actually, it’s not a fuck at all. It’s love.
We’re making love.
Slowly, gently, thoroughly.
He’s rocking into me like a soft wave and with every stroke, I’m drowning.
As I look into him, I realize that everything about him is heartbreakingly beautiful. His intense eyes, that strong forehead, his stubborn jaw. That masculine body flexing and rippling over me. His heat, his smell.
I can’t stop feeling him everywhere.
In my pussy, my stomach. My womb, in my very femininity.
I want to keep looking at him but I’m so lazy and lethargic that my lids fall shut.
And I smile.
I love him so much.
So, so much.
If this is the only way I can tell him then, it’s okay.
I can live with that.
I love you, Zach. But I’ll never tell you.
The thought makes me come once again. I don’t even know what number orgasm this is. I’ve lost count.
As Zach shudders inside me with his own climax, I realize that I also lost the secret I wanted to tell him. I can’t remember what it was.
A second later though, I can’t think of anything except going to sleep.
Even though I don’t remember falling asleep, I jerk awake in the middle of the night.
I’m in Zach’s bed, naked and feeling like a noodle, lumpy. The room’s dark, the only light from the bathroom.
There’s a sheet over me, courtesy of Zach, I think. But he’s not by my side.
I look around and find him in his armchair by the big glass window. The night’s dark with bright stars and I guess it’s way past midnight.
“Hey,” I whisper, sitting up and clutching the sheet at my breasts. I can still feel him between my legs, him and his body.
Zach’s naked too, the muscles silhouetted by the silver moonlight. His thighs are wide, and his elbows are resting on them as his gaze rests on me.
Actually, no.
His gaze isn’t resting. There’s turbulence in it, a strange intensity that shines brighter in the near-darkness.
“You love me,” he says.
My languid, warm, thoroughly-fucked body feels cold at his words. Cold and dead and numb.
“What?”
“You. Love me,” he repeats. Like, he’s trying to taste the words in his mouth, roll them around between his teeth and tongue.
