Taint(67)

“What are you doing to me?” she pants, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

“Exactly what I taught you,” I reply. Then I send her flying into oblivion, giving her my mouth and fingers. Sucking her until her release trickles down my chin. Until she pulls me up by my shoulders, begging me to stop.

“Oh God,” she sobs. “I can’t take anymore. Too much.”

I kiss her so she can taste herself, my tongue snaking with hers as we share her arousal. I’m perfectly aligned with her entrance, still slick and hot, so I slowly push until the head of my cock is nestled inside her. Ally gasps at the intrusion, and I trace her lips with my fingers before hooking two inside her mouth. I delve in some more and watch the emotions play out on her face, all varying shades of carnal insanity. When I’m completely submersed to the hilt, I pull out so suddenly that she whimpers, and I flip her onto her stomach.

“Up you go,” I say, elevating her ass and hips, and bending her legs in a way that causes the soles of her feet to touch. I admire the way her sex contracts, begging for me to fill her once more.

One hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder, I enter her from behind, slowly at first. I’m so deep at this angle, that I can feel her heartbeat in her stomach. The sheets rumple under her tight grip, and Ally grits out a curse.

“Is this ok?” I ask. I don’t even know why I’m asking. I’ve never asked for anything I’ve wanted, and I damn sure didn’t care enough to do it during sex.

Ally nods into the pillow, eyes closed tight. “Yes. Better than ok.”

I pull out to the tip and plunge back in, pulling her back into me by her shoulder. We both moan in unison, and her knees tremble.

“Good?” I don’t know why I’m asking again. I know it’s good. I can feel it’s good to her.

“Yeah,” she rasps between whimpers.

All restraint is diminished, and I let go, thrusting into her with ravenous intensity. I lean forward and kiss her back, smothering my groans of pleasure in her skin and hair. She turns her head, and my lips instantly find hers.

If this was a different time, and I was a different man deep inside of a different woman, I’d look into her eyes as my body dipped and rolled into hers. She’d stare at me lovingly and caress my jaw, a look of pure ecstasy on her face. I’d sweep her hair to one side over her shoulder and drag my tongue across her neck to her ear. And when her back begins to arch, as the first tingles of orgasm seize her body, I would whisper “I love you,” because I’d want those words to be the only thing she hears when she comes for me. Only for me.

Regardless of my feelings for Ally—and there are feelings—I’m not that man and she’s not that woman. And all the time we have is right now. Uttering those words would only spark confusion and conflict for both of us. So I swallow both our moans of surrender as I give her the parts of me that I can give. The parts of me that quiver and pulse until pain and pleasure become one and the same. Until heat and cold race up my spine, and my joints are too flooded with sensation to move, and I release it all into her—the fear, the anger, the bliss of just having her in my arms—it’s all hers.

I’m hers.





SOMETHING STIRS ME from sleep, but I try to fight it. I don’t want to move, I don’t even want to breathe. But it sounds again from the living room, and I know I have to leave this bed and the warmth of Ally’s body.

Fuck. My phone.

Dim light filters through the blinds, and I realize that we’ve sexed and slept the day away. There was talking, some eating, even some hydrating, but mostly our time was spent kissing, touching and pushing our bodies beyond pleasure.

As gently as I possibly can, I unravel my arm from under Ally’s frame. She stirs, murmuring something unintelligible before resuming a soft snore. I shake my head and laugh silently to myself as I make my way to the living room. Before Ally, every woman I had ever been with, looked like supermodels even in slumber. Hair and makeup somehow stayed meticulously in place. Part of me didn’t even believe they ever truly slept, just fluttered those long-lashed eyes closed and posed like wax statues on the bed. But with Ally, everything is different, more real. Her red hair is in knots all over both our faces. She snores a bit, not loudly, but loud enough that I know she’s asleep. And a little drop of drool settles in the corner of her mouth.

Maybe all women really sleep this way. I don’t know. I’ve never stuck around long enough to find out.

I follow the chimes resonating from my phone, and find it on the coffee table. Missed calls and text messages from Heidi. One from Diane, checking in. Another from Riku asking me if everything is ok. I ignore them all and zero in on the half-dozen Google alerts clogging my screen.