I brushed her hand away from my cock, unhooking my belt and pulling my fly down to send it springing forth. Her eyes popped wide, her mouth forming an adorable little O before I put a knee up on the bed, clutching her curls to force her mouth on my cock.
She was an eager little thing, greedily taking what she could, not voicing a hint of displeasure as I gripped her hair and thrust forward. Instead, she moaned, the vibration almost too much to take.
I flipped her back on the bed in response, spreading her legs wide before devouring her, lavishing her most tender of places with my tongue. She cried out, but I hauled her hips high, relentlessly taking what was mine with my fingers and tongue. It didn’t matter which, each touch making her legs tremble.
She came fast and hard, a strangled cry unleashing hell within me. I dropped her to the bed while she was still shaking, sitting on the side of the bed to conquer heaven. I lifted her as if she were nothing to sit on my lap, feet still planted firmly on the floor. I faced her away from me, which earned a whimper of protest, a whimper that turned into a moan as I slammed my cock inside.
Her legs dangled over mine as I drove in, the scant inches between the bed and the wall allowing me to shove her face-first against it, her entire front pressed against the cool plaster as I took what was mine.
It was raw. It was primal. It was nothing like what I’d fantasized about. Nothing like what I’d wanted. But it was everything I needed. What we needed.
I couldn’t make love to her. Not only would she know that it was something more than just sex, but I’d allow myself to let her in more, and that wasn’t an option.
It was a hate-fuck, pure and simple. Not between her and I, but between my lives, this beautiful soul trapped between them.
My fingers dug into her hips as I lifted and slammed her back down, each movement meeting mine, the slapping of our skin and moans almost blocking out the screams of my psyche. She tried to reach behind to brace herself on the mattress, but with each hard drive she toppled forward, her hands the only thing keeping her face from striking the wall.
I wanted to flip her around to suck her tits, to shower her body with the love it deserved, but I couldn’t. I was blind with passion and rage, the two battling as I forced her to take every inch until the buildup began, the twisting low in my stomach signaling the end was near.
I fished a hand in front of her, sliding between the legs I’d dreamed of being wrapped around my waist, fingers rubbing just where she needed me, moans of pleasure replacing the sharp breaths and whimpers. Her breathing quickened then, her body tensing as I slowed my strides, giving her exactly what she needed to make it there, her body unraveling once she did, a flood of moans pouring out. “Oh, Ethan! Fuck!” she shrieked, muscles spasming as she came.
It was the most beautiful sight I’d seen to date, the woman I loved slick with sweat and rolling her hips to take all of me. An image I reminded myself I needed to forget as I flipped her over, cock still wedged tight within. I hauled her toward the foot of the bed, now freed of the tight confines the walls on either side of the bed presented.
With her face pressed into the blankets, I finished the deed, fucking her so hard she was screaming, another orgasm ripping through her. The cloth muffled her cries, but not mine, a deep groan escaping as I met her over the edge, filling her with everything I had.
As soon as I did, I pushed her forward, shoving my still-slick cock in my pants while she hurried to pull blankets over herself, sudden modesty washing over the woman I’d just fucked and bared to the world, every bit of her exposed. Every inch I’d fantasized about for years.
“Are you staying the night?” she asked quietly as I fussed with my belt.
I pulled the comforter higher on her chest, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear as I swallowed the answer I truly wanted to give. “No, I have to go. I’ll let myself out and lock the deadbolt.” I’d promptly stick my key to her apartment in the safe at home, too.
“Can we get breakfast together in the morning?” Her eyes locked with mine, pleading.
My stomach turned just looking at her, sure I was going to be sick. “I can’t. I have to take care of some things.”
“Don’t leave me,” she croaked, the hazel pools brimming with tears.
She knew.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead, the finality of the gesture striking my core. “I have to.”
* * *
The worst thing about living in Boston was that unlike New York, it actually slept. The T stopped around 12:30 AM, which meant if you were out past then, you had to hoof it, drive, or call a cab.
I chose to walk, hoping the five-mile trek from Dorchester to Seaport was enough to burn off steam. It probably wasn’t the best idea, a guy in an expensive suit a nice mark to rob, but I only encountered stray cats and a drunk pissing in an alley on the journey.
But the long trek proved useless for clearing my mind, constant thoughts of Kee
