He strokes us both, his thrusting cock and my vibrating pussy, softly as I finish clenching against his fingers. He pulls himself from my mouth. A string of spit trails along me as he moves between my thighs again, only this time he sticks my feet on his shoulders, lifting my ass in the air. The soft and sweet lovemaking is a thing of the past. We are fucking, and I am near praying it never ends. He runs his cock’s head up and down my slit before entering me roughly. With my ass in the air he buries his cock, making me take every inch and filling me too full. His body stretches mine, but his thrusts maintain the strength they started with. He grips my hips, holding me in the air and dragging me up and down his cock with his mighty pounding. The pressure builds again as the vibration of the slapping balls and thrusting cock fill me. I feel myself clenching as the power of a second orgasm builds. I am close, meeting his thrusts and pushing with my own body, but he pulls out of me before I can finish. He sits up, flipping me onto my stomach. Again he grips my hips, but this time he drags my ass back to where he sits, arching me so he can shove himself back inside me. His fingers bite into my hips, almost hurting, but the pain has joined the pleasure and every sensation makes me higher. I scream into the sheets and blankets as the orgasm returns almost instantly, not requiring a buildup. When I come he pounds against me savagely. His fingers dig in harder as he groans, still moving with a pace I cannot keep up with. I am lost in the rhythm, drooling on the bed and bleating like a sheep when I feel him pulsate inside me. He jerks into me several times before collapsing on top of me. He kisses along my sweat-laden back. “I love you.” His words are breathy and weak.
I nod into my own sweat and drool, agreeing but unable to find the words.
When we wake in the morning, light has flooded the bedroom. It’s disturbingly bright. How we’ve slept as long as we have is some kind of miracle or testament to how tired we both were.
He snuggles into me, kissing along my neck. “Where to now?”
“Breakfast, and then we find Randall.”
He nods. “I know where he is.”
Nothing he says surprises me now. We dress in silence, not talking about the exquisite sex we had. It was so different from the years of lovemaking at a slow and casual pace. I don’t know how to bring it up. I don’t want to plan our sex life, but I don’t want to go back. We walk to the car, hand in hand. I don’t know how it happened, maybe it was during the mind-blowing orgasms, but I don’t care about the flaws in the system. I don’t care who we are. I offer him a sly smile. “What are you thinking about?”
He purses his lips. “I want to say the sex last night because, seriously, it’s been on my mind a lot, but I have to be honest. I’m thinking that it doesn’t matter that we are the couple most likely to blow up the world just by being together. I don’t care that we are two peas in a pod who should probably be medicated, and I don’t care that you are a liability and I cannot ever satisfy the cravings inside me. I just want this, but I don’t know how to make it happen. I don’t know how we can be together, as broken as we are, and not fuck it up.”
He doesn’t swear often, but when he does it’s usually because he’s being very serious.
“I have a terrible feeling we will just keep spinning on this wheel and we won’t ever be free of the truth that keeps us prisoners of the traps we were raised in.”
I lift his hand to my lips, placing a soft kiss and lingering for a moment. “Then we die on the wheel.”
He grins back. “That’s a ridiculous answer.”
“Well, like you said, we are the couple most likely to destroy the world by being together. I say we take our chances, and if we go down, we take everyone with us.”
His brow knits together in a worried stare. “You really are a twisted individual.”
I nod. There’s really nothing else to add to it. The darkness of my prior life has caught up with me. I don’t think there is any going back.
He drives us to a business as we discuss the plan several times over. I don’t think it’ll work, but he’s certain it will. I don’t recognize it, but I have a feeling I have been here before. He gets a bag from the trunk when he parks in the alley. He hands me a dark wig with the hair in a bun. He places a pair of glasses on the console for me. I almost grin over the glasses, but then he sets out a sticker-looking thing with a brown dot on a piece of white paper. I frown. “What’s this?”
He grins. “Your disguise.” He puts the brown dot on my face, making a mole where Cindy Crawford has hers.