Chapter 68 Let's Just Be Us... Please
The whimper leaves my throat before I can stop myself.
His mouth is harsh, domineering, kissing me like his life depends on it, walking me backwards until I hit the wall.
Ignoring the throb of where the wall hits my head, I instead focus on the way David’s hands grab my waist, hoping his grip is as hard as it feels. Hoping he is leaving bruises for me to remember him by, in case this is the only chance I get. My desperation bleeds through the way my hands grab his shirt and pull him closer to me, through my back arching until I feel his body press against mine, through the way I moan when he bites my bottom lip before diving straight back into the kiss.
The next thing I know, David is scrambling to undo the button on my jeans, then grabbing my wrist and dragging me across the flat, before pushing me back against the kitchen counter and kissing me again. My jeans are pushed down, his fingers finding my core immediately, like we were never even apart.
“Fuck!” I gasp against his lips, and he takes the break to kiss down my neck while his fingers pull my underwear out of the way and stroke me again. He can feel how easily he can slip inside, how wet I am for him, how ready I am.
Pushing his fingers inside, his body lights up from the way I respond, adrenaline coursing through his veins, smothering down his inner turmoil and replacing it with a need to make me scream his name.
“I’ve fucking missed you.” He whispers, not giving me a chance to respond as he smashes his lips to mine, capturing me in a filthy hot kiss as he starts fucking me with his fingers.
My moans are muffled by the kiss, but I don’t even care at this point. Knowing he missed me, that he needs this too, that he is doing this, it is sending me into overdrive. I am gripping his hair with one hand, gripping the counter behind me with the other, melting underneath him, letting him give whatever he is willing to give. Not reading too much into it, into the reasons why he is here in the first place, just letting him use me.
Because then maybe, in the morning, he and I can talk.
He feels the first clench of my muscles around his fingers, telling him that I am getting close, but he isn’t ready for that just yet. So he pulls his fingers out, pulls back from the kiss, and takes his hands off me.
My mouth parts open, eyebrows in a frown as I watch his hands go to his belt buckle and start to undo it. Taking my hand from his hair, I take my jeans and underwear completely off, my breaths shallow, anticipating his next move, and hoping I am right.
“Turn over.” He orders, his voice low, almost a whisper, but shooting through me nonetheless.
I turn over to face the counter, and I notice my hands are shaking slightly as I put them on the tile in front of me. Shaking from what though, I am not too sure. Whatever it is, it amplifies when one of his hands slides round my hips, making my heart thump a bit too harshly in my chest.
The next thing I feel is his cock rub over my core. I shiver, moan lightly, and my back tenses. My hips also move back, trying to hurry him along, needing to feel him inside me again.
David keeps me tethered on the edge, pushing himself in as slowly as he possibly can, watching the muscles in my back as I twitch, try to roll my hips into him, try to keep my hands on the counter. When he bottoms out, he takes his hand off my hip, puts it on the counter next to me, leans over me, and runs his other hand up my spine.
I feel caged in, surrounded by him, completely at his mercy, but I don’t want it any other way. His mouth is next to my ear, hearing his breathing match his movements as he just barely starts to move his hips, sliding his cock out halfway, then inching it back inside. He feels bigger than I remember, maybe because of how long it has been since this last happened. Either way, I bite my lip, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for him to move faster, to give me another order, something.
But he doesn’t. All he does is keep fucking me slowly, deeply, his hand moving further up my back. He finally runs his hand over my shoulder, before gently positioning his fingers round the front of my neck. He wants to feel my pulse quicken, he wants to feel me swallow hard as he teases me, he wants to feel my moans reverberate in his palm before they fall from my lips.
Only then does he pull out almost all the way, and slam back into me.
“David!” I cry, wanting to drop my head forward, but his fingers are tightening over my neck and holding me upright. He slams into me again. “Shit…”
Taking his hand off the counter, he grabs my thigh, guiding me to bend my leg and rest my knee on the counter beside me. Then he is suddenly fucking me deeper, his fingers digging into my flesh as he presses my leg into the counter. There is a faint pain aching in my knee from where he is holding me, but I don’t give a single fuck. All I can really think about is how he is pounding into me, holding me in place so that I can’t fucking move, and how it feels so fucking good.
“David… I… fuuckk…” I moan helplessly, not fully sure what I am trying to say, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is getting me over the edge, and hearing me say his name again.
Trusting me to leave my leg where it is, his hand slips up to my waist, guiding me to fuck back as his hips meet mine. His other hand slides off my neck, and my head instantly falls forward, the cool tile of the counter harsh against my flushed cheeks as I turn sideways to look back at him.
He catches my eye, and I can’t help notice how fucking dominating he looks. Towering over me, holding me down, his clothes barely out of place. His eyes are wild, almost black, as he tenses his jaw and fucks into me as hard as he can, making my eyes roll back.
Then he grabs my hair and pulls my head back up. Leaning over me again, his thrusts getting momentarily shallower, he moves his mouth to my ear.
“Say it again.” He whispers.
“W...what?” I ask, following it with a moan as he slams particularly hard into me and runs his tongue over my neck.
“My name. Say it.”
“Shit… David… David!” I whimper, his teeth catching my earlobe as his thrusts pick up the pace.
I keep chanting his name over and over, some more breathless than others, not having the brain capacity to question why it is making him fuck me faster, harder. It sends me spiralling to my orgasm in a matter of seconds once he leans back and focuses solely on getting me there, his name coming from my lips acting as some kind of salvation for this fucked-up situation.
As my climax shoots through me, I scream his name one last time, hearing him curse in the background as he pumps through his own. It is a few seconds before I feel like I can hear properly again, before my body starts to relax, before I realize he is slowly pulling out of me, a comforting hand on my hip.
Putting my leg back down, the blood suddenly flooding back to it, I ignore the shakiness I feel and turn around, grabbing his neck and pulling his mouth to mine. His hands don’t return to my body, but he kisses me back. So that is something at least.
He tries to slow the kiss down, to pull away, but I hold him close to me, trying to kiss him again and again.
“Nora…” He whispers, and I know the tone instantly. Trying to be comforting. But telling me that nothing has changed. That this is just a weak moment he has given me, a weak moment that he has succumbed to.
“No.” I reply shakily, pausing my attacks for a moment and looking up at him. “Until… until you leave… let’s just be us… please.”
He looks back at me sadly, and I can almost feel my heart breaking, knowing that if he agrees, once he leaves this apartment, he will have nothing more to do with me.
Then one of his hands slides around my waist, and the other goes to the back of my head, and he kisses me. A tear escapes my closed eyes as I take his agreement and kiss him back.
I walk him backwards toward my bedroom, pushing him against the door until he has the sense to reach down and turn the handle. We both walk in, closing the door behind us, leaving the chaos of everything outside, so that we can have just a few more hours of happiness.
A horrible agreement that I am harshly reminded of when I wake up in the morning, and his side of the bed is empty.