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She writhes under me, arching her back and squirming and it makes me smile against her stomach.
“Nathan,” she pleads with me, her neck bowed as her nails dig into my shoulders. It cracks my composure. I can try to do slow with Hally. Every chance in the past, I tried. But it’s still impossible.
I’m quick to pull down her leggings and then take my shirt off, not caring when I hear the telltale sign of a button popping off from being too reckless. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be reckless so long as I can have her.
Her hands travel to her inner thighs and she whimpers with need. I love that sound; I’ve missed it more than I ever knew.
“Spread your legs wider,” I tell her in a deep, rough voice, one I hardly recognize and it takes me back to when we were younger. When I felt like she was mine in every way.
Her eyes slowly open, pale blue and crystal clear and piercing through me as I unzip my pants and push them down, quickly stroking my hard cock.
It’s the little things she does that drive me crazy. Like how she stares at my length and licks her lips. I rub the bead of precum over the tip of my dick and stroke myself again, wanting so badly to tell her to lick it off, but I’m too desperate to be inside her.
I need her more than anything.
Hovering over her, and bracing a forearm by her head, I move my cock between her slick folds, my head brushing against her opening and then up to her swollen nub.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” I whisper in a calm voice. How? I don’t know.
The moment she looks back at me, intent on answering, I slam all the way into her. I keep my eyes on her, watching how her mouth hangs open and a silent, strangled scream accompanies her pussy spasming around my dick.
I want to keep my eyes on her, to watch every movement and worship every small touch and desperate scratch she gives me, but I can’t. It feels too good. I close my eyes and groan as I pull out quickly and then slam myself all the way back in, buried to the hilt and desperate for more, but afraid it will be over before I’m ready. I don’t give her tight walls any time to accommodate me; I can’t. I need her just like this. Rough and raw and completely at my mercy.
“Nathan,” she breathes my name frantically, her walls tightening even more and making each thrust bring me closer and closer to cumming.
My toes curl and I pound into her over and over again, the small bed knocking against the wall each time. Her heels dig into my ass as she moans the sweetest noises, climbing higher and higher.
My balls are already drawing up, ready to spill myself deep inside of her. I reach between us, pressing hard against her clit and pinning her down as she tries to move away from the intense pleasure.
I don’t let up on either the strumming of her clit or the steady ruthlessness of each hard stroke, filling her completely.
“Nathan!” she screams my name, her eyes wide open and staring straight at me as she cums on my dick. Yes!
I crash my lips against hers, silencing her and continuing my unforgiving rhythm, riding through the intensity of her orgasm.
I need more. More of her, of this, of us. I don’t want it to end, but as she lets out a strangled moan and then gently kisses the dip in my throat, I can’t hold back any longer. It’s my undoing.
It only takes a few more strokes, each one harder and faster.
I slam into her one last time, burying my head in the crook of her neck as hot streams leave me and my dick pulses deep inside of her.
A thin sheet of cold sweat covers my body as I lift my head and kiss her once, then twice on the lips. Her fingers spear through my hair and pull me in for one more. Our hot breath mingles between us and it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Everything I’ve dreamed of for the last decade.
As our breathing calms, she nestles herself into the crook of my arm and all it does is make me want more of her. So many years I’ve had to live without her in my bed. When she should have been here all along.
I kiss her hair, trying to remember what she told Margo. It doesn’t matter. It’ll be twisted just enough to be convincing and enticing and I can read all about it in the gossip columns and trashy magazines tomorrow.
All I know is that the one good thing I ever had when I was a kid, is now going to be slandered. I deserve it all anyway. In one way or another. She doesn’t though.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” she says, letting me know she’s thinking about it, too.
I kiss her hair again and clear the tightness in my throat before telling her, “I know what you said in the interview wasn’t intentional. She baited you but you’re smarter than that, Hally.”
She tries to pull away from me and I give a little, only enough so that she grabs my forearms and looks up at me. “I said I was sorry,” she tells me and then sniffles. “I’m sorry for what I said here too,” she admits and then stares straight at my chest. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Because I was a coward,” I tell her. I can admit it. I was afraid. I convinced myself that she needed to be away from me because I was terrified of destroying her. “I’m sorry,” I add.
“I didn’t mean--” she starts to tell me, but then stops short, not wanting to fight again or to bring it up. A habit of hers.
