AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And so it begins. He pulls out almost all the way, only to slam back in, over and over. Starting a brutal pace, he pounds me against the wall, and I have nowhere to go, no choice but to take him in. Each stroke is deeper than the last, and I feel him everywhere. I’m balanced perfectly between pleasure and pain. When I’m full, he exacts a sweet piercing pleasure and then I fear his withdrawal, missing the stretch until he’s back again. It’s a beautiful give and take. I lose myself, demanding what I need to end with what I want. I want the moment where the world disappears and I feel nothing, nothing but intense pleasure, and I’m willing to do anything to get there.
A wild abandon takes over, and I bite his shoulder until his growl vibrates against my chest. I pull his hair and guide his mouth to where I want it—everywhere. Lips, neck, nipples, I say it out loud and with my body. I won’t let him be gentle. Fuck gentle. I force a roughness from him, or maybe he gives it freely—either way, we’re there together. Stepping from the wall, he has me flat on the couch, my legs moved from around his waist to up on his shoulders. He bites and sucks a path along my pulse as it races up my leg. From the inside ankle to mid-thigh, he bends over me, only to level his eyes to mine. His erection slides into a new depth. My mouth falls open on a gasp that sticks in my throat, only to slip out in jagged whispers with each thrust. He watches me, just like Logan did…like I’m everything to him. It’s as if I’m the only thing in the world special enough to warrant all of his attention.
I draw him down to lick and bite his lips, to break the intensity passing between us, but he just keeps going, pushing me into feeling.
When his teeth drag from my chin to the swell of my breast, I savor the sweet pain. I want their marks all over me, reminding me that this isn’t a dream. I want it so I’m reminded constantly of the gift my time with them is.
Dipping into the curve of my neck, he bites a piercing sting, and the sensation flashes everywhere. It transitions to electricity traveling along my now hypersensitive skin. Reaching the hazy cloud of my thoughts, it translates to life.
Our mouths reunite, rough, working into a storm I’ll gladly jump headfirst into. I take and take some more, selfish in pursuit of the pleasure I know is waiting for me. We learn the deepest recesses and softest curves of each other’s bodies.
And then I start to come. Arching off the couch, the sweet sting of his teeth on my breast pushes me past the edge of reason, and I feel him everywhere. Clenching around him, I hang on through the tremors that feel almost painfully good.
Quaid, Quaid, Quaid, I chant in my head—or out loud. I don’t know which, nor do I care.
“Princess, I’m coming with you,” he grunts. Falling into me, he thrusts twice, the second deeper than the first, and he’s there. I can feel him swell and then release inside of me.
“I love you,” he cries out as he comes, and a tear slips down my cheek at the sincerity I hear in his words.
He surrounds me; his weight pressing me into the couch, and just like with Logan, I never want it to end.
Why does everything perfect in my life always have to end?
I know Quaid doesn’t understand why I seem melancholy after what we just shared. I hate myself for it, I do. Instead of celebrating every moment, I find myself increasingly devastated about never getting to experience it again, or the fact that I missed out on it all these years. Jealousy grows inside of me, thinking about all the women that did get to experience this with him. I’ve seen the pictures. How was he able to look at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world when he’s literally been with the most beautiful women in the world?
And why am I thinking about this now, while he’s holding me, his lips still dancing across my skin?
“What’s wrong, my love?” he whispers against my neck. I shrug, trying to hold myself back from crying. It’s not fair for me to feel this way. I was the reason those women got to see him like this. I was the one who ruined everything.
The question is if I will be able to forgive myself before the end comes.
Chapter 4
Then
_____________________________________
Logan
“Mr. Cooper, do you have your poetry assignment done?” asks Mr. Harris as he ruffles his fingers through his long white beard.
I bow my head, my eyes lingering on the paper in front of me, and kick myself for not having chosen to write something different. It’s too personal a poem, too intimate to be read out loud in a room full of my classmates. It was dumb even attempting to write such a thing.
“Mr. Cooper? Do you have the assignment or not?” he continues, his tone becoming less patient.
“Yeah, I have it,” I mumble as some of the other kids snicker and chuckle under their breaths around me.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, young man. Please come up to the front of the class and read it for us.”
Shit! Shit! Shit!
What am I going to do now?
I can tell him that I was wrong. That the poem he asked us to write was eaten by my dog or something, even though I don’t actually have one to blame. Or I can face the music and just blurt out some of the most personal words I have ever put down on paper.
“Mr. Cooper, we’re waiting. Need I remind you this assignment holds thirty percent of your grade for this period? You have had more than a full month to finish it. So are we going to hear what you came up with, or will an F in my class be in your immediate future?”
The only F I see is that I’m fucked either way.
