“Fuck that, Keat.” She presses closer. “You can’t turn me on, get me wet and ready, then bail. That’s inhumane.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I whisper, my control waning.
“You’re not. I want this. Badly. Please. You owe me.”
My resolve cracks. I won’t fuck her. That wouldn’t be right. I have way more respect for her than that. However, I can make her feel good.
Gripping her hips, I lift her, placing her on the edge of the vanity. “You want to feel good, baby?”
Leaning in, she kisses my lips before trailing them back to my ear.
“Make me feel the way only you can make me feel, Keat. Make me scream your name.”
Challenge fucking accepted.
I roll my hips into her, not missing the gasp that falls from her lips. I squeeze her hips once before letting my hands make their way up her body underneath my hoodie. Hell, if we’re being honest, that hoodie is fucking hers now. I wish she would wear it every fucking day like a brand telling everyone she’s mine.
I curse under my breath when I realize she isn’t wearing anything under it. Not even a bra.
“You’re trying to kill me.” I don’t hide the anguish in my voice, my mind reeling at the thought of her being braless this whole time.
“I wanted to feel you against me. Even if it was just your sweatshirt.”
Her breaths come faster as I continue to rock into her. I can tell I’m hitting the right spot as her moans take hold, becoming more frequent. As I caress her breasts, she pushes them more into me, and her hands weave their way around my neck. When I pinch one, she arches into me, her legs tightening around my hips.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper before nibbling on her neck.
“Keaton. Fuck.” She moans as I up my pace.
I can feel my release getting closer as each of her sounds of pleasure, along with the press of her nails into my skin, sends electricity through my body. My movements become jerky as my fingers continue to tweak her peaks, my pace punishing her body, knocking it more and more into the vanity.
“Don’t stop. Please. Keaton,” she screams, her body going rigid under me.
I don’t stop. I keep grinding into her harder, leaning in to press my lips to hers. I find my release moments later. My heart is beating fast as I lean my forehead against hers. I watch as her breaths come unevenly.
After a couple of minutes, I lean in, kissing her once more, before pulling back. I clean myself up and offer her some toilet paper to clean herself.
“I haven’t jizzed in my pants in years. Fuck, that was hot.”
Morgan blushes. “I, um, I—”
A knock on the door causes Morgan’s eyes to widen. I give her my signature smirk.
“Come on, my little psycho.” I dispose of the evidence of our tryst before zipping up my pants. “Time for you to go stake your claim. Let these bitches know just who I belong to.”
“What?” Her confusion is adorable.
I grab her hand, opening the door without answering her. There are some surprised looks, but no one says anything. Leading her back to the living room, I plant my ass right on the couch where I was before. Not giving her a moment to think about it, I pull her right into my lap.
“Keaton,” she gasps.
I lean in and kiss her ear. “Keep saying my name. I can’t get the sound of you screaming it out of my head.”
After a few moments, she relaxes into me. Soon enough, guys make their way over to talk.
This is how it’s been all night. One guy gets up, and the next sits down. Everyone wants to have a shot at talking to me. As we talk sports, I trail my hand up and down Morgan’s side. Soon she turns so she can rest her head on my shoulder.
It isn’t until I yawn that I realize how late it’s gotten. Looking at my watch, I cringe.
Three in the morning.
Ignoring the guys, I turn to Morgan. She lifts her head from my shoulder, a sleepy look on her face.
“You ready to go, babe?”
She nods, laying her head back on my shoulder for a moment, before getting up. I say my goodbyes before texting Finley to find out where he is.
Finley: Took Tinsley home an hour ago. Don’t worry about me.
I know that means he is finding some pussy to get lost in. I used to be right there with him. Looking down at Morgan, curled under my arm, I realize that chasing tail was just that. Chasing. It never once made me feel the way I did when I was with Morgan, but then again, isn’t that what I was chasing? That feeling of being alive.
Once in the car, I turn to her. “You want me to take you home or are you sleeping at mine tonight?”
She gives me a shy smile. “Sober Morgan wants to see how Drunk Morgan sleeps.”
I chuckle. “Mine it is.”
It isn’t until we’re cuddled in my bed, Morgan sound asleep in my arms, that I realize I’m content. Nothing in the world is bothering me. Not my parents abandoning me yet again. No facade I put up to shield me from pain. Not even the hurt I have carried around from Morgan leaving.
Tonight, that was all left behind.
Leaning forward, I kiss Morgan on the back of the neck. She turns in my arms, curling deeper into my side.
“What are you doing to me?” I whisper.
✽✽✽
Keaton
Waking up the next morning, that content feeling is still lingering. It isn’t until I open my eyes that I realize why.
Sprawled across my chest, lying on top of me, I find Morgan.
