My body stiffened and clenched around him, and I exploded in a cry I was sure the neighbors heard, hips pumping against his hand.
“God, you are so sexy,” he said, tenderly pulling me up when I was no more than a puddle of broken breaths and gelatinous bones.
“I don’t think I can stand,” I said, half joking.
“That’s not what I had in mind.” He picked me up and carried me to his bedroom.
twenty-seven
Vivian
Dash undressed me slowly, and I stood naked before him, then he pulled his shirt over his head, undid his belt. The buckle clacked, and then it whooshed out of the loops. We drew circles on each other’s bodies with our fingers and tongues twisted together and teasing.
“I can’t decide how to fuck you,” he said. “I want to take you in every position. I want to fuck you like an animal and a saint. I want to keep you on the brink for an hour and take four orgasms from you. I can’t do it all tonight. I’m kind of pissed about that.”
“We don’t have an expiration date. Remember?”
“We don’t.” He rolled on a condom. “But I’m impatient. I want it all right now.”
I watched him kneeling above me, a perfect body in the sum of its perfect parts.
I held my arms out for him. “Take what you can.”
He didn’t lean down, just kneeled where I could see him. “Open your legs.”
I loved it when he demanded my exposure. So I did it, letting him see me, all of me. He opened my knees wider, ran one hand up my inner thigh, and put three fingers inside, stretching me.
“You’re so tight. So wet and tight.”
He guided his dick to my opening and pushed forward, holding my legs open, fully in my view. I didn’t think I’d have enough room for him, but I did, and his length glided against every surface I had. He angled himself to press against my clit, stroke it with his cock, until the pain of him subsided and only the throb of an awakening orgasm remained. He leaned down and pushed his dick into me, owning me with his eyes and his attention.
His breath caught. He liked it. He liked what he was doing to me and how close we were. I reached for him and pulled him close, closer, as close as I’d been to another person, and still it wasn’t enough. I wanted his soul inside me, a melding of skin where we touched, an unbroken circle of pulsing attention and awareness.
“Vivian.”
He only said the one word. A prayer. A supplication. A breath from his heart to mine.
I put my hand on his cheek and said, “Yes.”
When he looked as if he was about to lose himself, I lost myself too. Physically, I came and came hard, arching and stretching under him, pinned to reality by the force of the way he fucked me. But emotionally, seeing him as lost in the moment as I was, unable to stop himself from closing his eyes and groaning… he gave me more than an orgasm. He gave me the sweetest release.
Afterward, when he was still on top of me and planting kisses all over my face and neck, he said, “You knew the Lear quote was ‘boy.’”
“I realized it on the patio.”
He pulled back a little until his nose was astride mine. “But you didn’t say?”
“You gonna spank me for lying?”
“Not tonight, sweetapple.”
“Are you getting hard again? I don’t think I can go another inning.”
He pinned my hands over my head and kissed me. “When you’re still sore two days from now, I want you to remember who fucked you so hard you can’t walk.”
I couldn’t. I really couldn’t come again. I certainly couldn’t let him inside me again.
Well, maybe one more time.
twenty-eight
Dash
Terror. Absolute, all-consuming, skin-searing fear. Like a frog in a pot of water that got hotter and hotter until it was too late, early January became mid-February, and I was still fucking her. Compulsively. I had her on my kitchen floor. My shower. My car. I fucked her face with my cock and my fingers. I ate her * and sucked her nipples. I came on her tits, on her back, down her throat, inside her. I put my hands under her clothes as soon as I saw her, held her hands behind her back, spanked her, blindfolded her, and still there was shit I hadn’t done.
I hadn’t tied her down. I hadn’t gotten a finger in her ass.
There was so much.
And I was running out of time.
I hadn’t made a plan because a sensible plan meant either we cut the cord at spring training, no negotiations, or I told her what I told the other ones. It’s casual. It’s friendly. It’s non-exclusive.
But I couldn’t because if I said shit like that to her, she would walk.
So there I was, watching her drive away at the crack of dawn so she could get to work and wondering what the fuck I was going to do, when my phone buzzed.
Hey, bat boy. I’m getting the hotel.