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Instead, he kept fucking me, driving me up once again.
Then he was grabbing me, turning me, getting me on all fours, then surging back inside of me as his hand fisted in my hair, yanking back, using the strands to hold me in place as he fucked me so hard that he threatened to move the bed across the room.
And it was bolted to the fucking wall.
His other hand moved between my thighs, engaging my clit as he continued to fuck me, driving me up faster.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled, voice tense, getting close. “Come for me again,” he demanded.
Then, not long after, I did, crying out as he slammed deep, coming with a curse.
I collapsed forward as soon as he released my hair, completely wiped out, winded, and almost fuzzy with the remnants of the orgasm.
I was vaguely aware of Slash walking into the bathroom, likely to deal with the condom, then coming back.
I half-expected him to quickly dress and head out, realizing what a fuck up this was. A very satisfying fuck up, but a fuck up nonetheless.
But, instead, the mattress beside me depressed as he spread out beside me.
Then there was a sharp slap to my bare ass cheek, the sound ricocheting off the surfaces in the room.
Turning my head, I found him beside me, his face more relaxed than I’d ever seen it.
A small, sexy smirk toyed with his lips as he looked at me.
“Why the fuck haven’t we done that before?” he asked.
It was those words that finally had me shocking back into the reality of the situation.
“Uh oh,” he said, reading the panic on my face as I pushed up, reaching back to yank my skirt back into place as I climbed off the bed.
Getting to my feet, I reached down my top, pushing my tits back into their car seats since they’d tried to make an escape for it with all the hard banging.
“Regretting me?” he asked, and there was just the tiniest hint of vulnerability in his voice as he said it.
That sliced right through me, making the panic fall away a bit.
“No,” I told him honestly. “No,” I repeated more firmly. “It’s not that. It’s not regret.”
“What is it then?” he asked, folding up to a seated position.
“It’s… complicated.”
“Okay,” he agreed, and I took that for his invitation to explain further.
“I just… I can’t be fucking someone in Shady Valley,” I said.
“Why not?”
“It’s just… it could get messy when shit doesn’t work out,” I said, lying through my teeth, but I had been doing it for so long that he didn’t detect a bit of untruth in the words as I turned to walk into the bathroom, seeing the mess of my makeup. Racoon eyes. Smudged red lipstick all over.
I didn’t expect him to follow.
In my experience, guys were usually eager to head out after some no-strings-attached sex.
But when I looked up into the mirror after getting some water on a washcloth, there he was behind me, watching me as I started to wipe at the makeup.
“You made a mess of me,” I told him when he just kept watching me, saying nothing.
