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“Yes! Please, I still want it. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
He makes a choked sound and begins to thrust, building a fast, needy rhythm that matches everything else I’m sensing in him.
It feels so good. So needed. I pump my hips to match his rhythm and clutch handfuls of the shirt he’s still wearing. We move together, breathing fast and loud until our pants turn into little grunts. Mine get more stretched as pleasure builds at my center, and his get louder and more animalistic.
He’s letting himself go. Completely. No holding back. His motion gets harder, and it’s exactly what I want to feel.
“Please,” I hear myself rasping. “Please, William!”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” He has to force the words out because he’s pretty far gone.
“I need… I need… I need you to love me.”
I had no plans to say those words. No idea how they came out. No clue how to feel now that they’ve been said.
He makes another throaty sound and tosses his head.
I dig my fingernails into the back of his neck as an orgasm finally crests. I cry out as I fall into release.
He’s not far behind me, jerking his hips a few last times before he lets out a loud sound that’s almost a bellow.
I’ve never heard him like that before. I never knew he could let go so much.
I never knew I could either.
When his motion finally slows to a few uneven rocks of his hips, he buries his face against the crook of my neck. Mumbles a barely audible, “I do.”
We lie tangled together for a long time afterward. At first I can process nothing except the lingering pleasure and the depth of what I feel for William, but eventually other realities begin to sneak in.
He’s very heavy. Moisture is leaking out from where we are joined, and it’s not exactly comfortable. I’m glad I used the throw blanket.
I heard what he said.
When I shift slightly, he lifts his head and pushes himself up by straightening his arms. He’s peering down at me, like he’s waiting for something.
“What…?” My voice breaks, so I try again. “What do you want?”
He takes a long breath and lets it out. “I want you to trust me. All the way.”
I’m surprised by this admission. I stare up at him, trying to process it, figure out what it means.
“I… I do,” I say at last, realizing it’s true. It has to be true. There’s no other way to understand the state of my heart and mind.
His face breaks slightly. “Then do it, sweetheart. Trust me. All the way.” He kisses me softly and then heaves himself up off the couch and walks with a slight limp toward the bathroom. I hear the door shut.
I sit up too, pulling on my top and panties and thinking everything through.
He loves me. There’s no way for me to disbelieve that.
And I trust him now. I have to. It’s become a bone-deep truth of my life.
Which means there’s one more thing left for me to do.
I get up and walk to the hallway, waiting outside the bathroom door. After a minute, I hear the toilet flush and then the water running in the sink.
The door opens, and he’s come to a stop in the doorway, his face slightly damp from where he must have splashed water on it and his expression obviously surprised.
“I have to tell you something,” I blurt out before I can rethink or change my mind.
