His mouth on me, his cock inside me...it was at once familiar and new. I gripped his back, pulling him tighter against me as he moved inside me with short hard thrusts, bringing me higher and higher.
He kissed my neck, then underneath my ear, this sensitive place that had never failed to turn me on when we were teenagers. It worked just the same as it had back then. He worked just the same as he had back then, the rhythm of his movements in sync with mine.
“You feel so good, Junebug,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Good. He didn’t just feel good. He felt fucking amazing.
Like holy shit, can’t remember why I wanted to have sex with anyone else good. Like, I didn’t want to ever stop having sex good.
“Fuck, June,” he said. “Come with me.”
I felt the wave of pleasure get bigger and bigger, until it overtook me, an orgasm so intense I swear I could feel it all the way down to my toes. I heard him cry out as he came inside me, but I was lost in my own pleasure, and it was only after I began to come down from my orgasm and peeled my face away from his shoulder that I realized how tightly I’d been clinging to him.
“Sorry,” I said, looking down at his shoulder where I’d bit him, my teeth marks still imprinted on his skin like some kind of tattoo.
I’d left my mark on him, that’s for sure, I thought. I can’t say it didn’t give me a smug kind of satisfaction, the idea of branding him like that.
“I think I probably scratched the shit out of your back, too.” I said. But I wasn't sorry.
Cade grinned, his face framed by chunks of hair falling forward. “Do you hear me complaining? Because if you hear me complaining, then you can apologize.”
I smiled. “No, what I heard coming out of your mouth was definitely not complaining. In fact, if I had to, I’d say the ‘Fuck, June’ sounded a lot like begging.”
“Me? Beg?” He winked. “Never.”
Axe
I laid on my back in June’s bed, her head in the crook of my arm, her hair splayed out onto my chest, listening to her breathe. She snorted a little as she inhaled, the same way she’d done when we were teenagers, almost a snore but not really. It was one of those things I remembered about her.
Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?
I remembered everything about being with her...how she felt, the taste of her sweetness on my lips, how she sounded when she came. And all the other things that didn't involve sex... She used to run her tongue across her lower lip when she was nervous, this silly thing she still did. She had hated it when we were kids and I first noticed it, but I couldn't help but point it out, since it made me holy shit hot for her every time she would do it. Without fail. She had no idea how seductive it was. And she hadn't abandoned the habit.
It was strange being here, holding her, like going back in time or something. Or being in some kind of parallel universe where we were still together.
Except that back then we wanted the same things. And now...
We were on two different paths. She had moved here to stay, and I wasn't coming back.
As much shit as I'd given her about not wanting a quiet life, about her wanting someone like me, someone living the kind of life I was living, I knew it wasn't good for her. It wasn't the right thing, saddling her with all of my shit.
She was right to want peace and quiet.
She was right to want a normal life.
And there was no way in hell I was the kind of quiet life she was looking for. Shit, I was as far from that as you could get.
I knew I was bad for her, and the fact that I still couldn't keep my hands off her made me the kind of guy who in no way could ever deserve her.
What the fuck was wrong with me, going after her?
There was still something about her that made my brain mush, that overrode my thoughts and took control of me. I could tell myself that I needed to stay away from her, that I was no good for her, and the minute I looked at her, all those thoughts would disappear. They'd be erased by some little thing she would do, that nervous thing she did with her lip, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, how she scrunched up her nose when she laughed.
I knew I couldn't have her, but I couldn't help myself. She was like some kind of an addiction. But the best kind.
June shifted in her sleep, mumbling words under her breath, a constant murmur, not quite talking in her sleep, but almost. I wondered if she was dreaming about us.
When I finally fell asleep, it was just barely, the dozing kind of twilight sleep I usually had, halfway between being asleep and awake. But at least it wasn't filled with nightmares, and I could feel her, warm beside me.
"Hey," she said, rolling over in the crook of my arm and looking up at me with those big eyes of hers. The sunlight was streaming through the window in her bedroom and I wasn't sure how long I had slept.
"Hey yourself," I said.
"How did you sleep?" She asked, her hand on my chest. I could feel her breasts pressed up against me.