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But that’s when it hits me.
“Vas.” I pull away from his mouth to tell him there is no fucking condom, but he doesn’t let me get another word in.
“If the next words out of your mouth are not ‘I’m coming,’ I don’t want to hear it, Kira.” He bites my neck my shoulder, and trails down to my hard nipples, biting on them as well. “Make that sweet cunt scream for me, baby. Come all over my cock like you did my briefs. Soak me in your cum. Fucking give me what’s mine!” And that does me in.
That and the punishing rate with his thrusts into me.
“Coming,” I scream. “Vas…oh…oh…yes, yes…” There is not one coherent thought in my mind. My brain has been wiped clean.
“Yes, I can feel your pussy squeezing me so fucking tight. Fuuuuck.” A string of silent curses comes next from him as my insides get painted with his cum, and somehow, this feels so heavenly good; my hips rock harder, searching for that last drop of ecstasy as we both climax and fall into each other.
This is an orgasm to end all orgasms. The hardest I’ve ever come in my life, and I don’t think I will ever be the same after this. And this was just random sex in my small office. In my chair, that was never meant to be fucked in.
How would it feel if we did this again in a bed? Against the wall? In the shower?
Suddenly, I want it all. I want him everywhere and all the time.
Suddenly, this is too much.
This is all too fucking much. And the high, full of hate, lust, pent-up aggression, jealousy, and so much tension, comes crashing down like fragile glass onto the hard, unforgiving concrete. Also known as the reality of my life.
I don’t do permanent. I don’t do feelings. I don’t do foreplay.
I don’t do any of it.
Then why the hell am I not moving away as he untangles his hand from my mane of hair, and instead of pushing me away, he cradles my head to his chest where I feel his ragged breaths, his racing heart, and a soul yearning for a connection…
Chapter twenty-seven
Vassar
Song: Jaymes Young – Feel Something
What the fuck what that just now? Where am I? What day is it? Year? My mind doesn’t register anything other than Kira’s hot body on mine, my still semi-hard cock deep inside her.
And my cum slowly leaking out.
My cum.
That’s what brings my tired, spent, and very satisfied brain back into reality. I didn’t put a condom on. Fuck…
What did I do? What the hell did I do, and where do we go from here. However, knowing Kira Clark, she is most likely on ten different birth controls and gets regular checkups compulsively. And seeing as I haven’t been with anyone for over a year, I’d say we are safe.
And please don’t ask why that makes me irrationally upset…
I guess some wounds run too deep and leave a burned-in imprint in their wake.
But I need to crawl out of that memory, out of the worst day of my life, because I don’t miss the tension coursing through Kira’s body. I don’t miss how eager she is to get out of my hold, run away from my body, and go back to her wicked witching ways.This woman doesn’t do intimacy like I don’t do construction work, and I think she is about to go into a full-blown shock.
But I need the closeness. I need to feel her in my arms and process the severity of my mistake. Because this certainly was one since all I want right now is to get right back, to never let go. Maybe also fuck her with my mouth while we are at it. When I was going to leave to start a new life in which Kira Clark doesn’t exist.
I breathed in her citrus scent one last time. One last time to commit the memory of my wicked mermaid forever. Commit the memory of Kira, shedding every bit of her control for me. It was powerful and invigorating. And I want it again.
But I can’t. I’m not staying.
Is it stupid to quit when you also don’t have a roof on top of your head, a five-year-old daughter, a sister in college, and a mother in hospice? Yeah, it probably is, but if I stay even one more day around this sea witch, I won’t come back to the surface because staying would mean keeping her, and she doesn’t want to be kept. Right?
I am already drowning when I keep telling myself how much I hate her, but staying will allow me to crack open the real door, the one that keeps the real feeling away. The ones where she has become so much more than my boss, and the worst part is, I haven’t even seen it coming.
