As much as I wanted to plunge inside her welcoming sex, she wasn’t ready. I wanted her to fall apart around me as soon as I shoved in. Switching my attention to her other breast, I used the shift to part her folds and rest a finger on her clit.
She undulated against my hand. Always so responsive. Her reaction was real and it made me feel like a god.
One swipe over her nub made her body tremble. I released her nipple and blew across it.
She inhaled. “You’re naughty.”
“You like it,” I growled.
“So much. Do it again.”
Uninhibited. Unabashed. My Tilly was the real deal. It had been the real her in high school, too, with a personality so big and bold it’d been like looking at the sun. She never gave up on those she cared for, whether it was the shelter cats or the kids she taught…or me. She humbled me, and she deserved so much better. And dammit, I so wasn’t worthy. I was the opposite of the person she tried to be. But for whatever reason, she’d set her sights on me and I couldn’t move out of her orbit. I’d made it three weeks without her company, each day an empty husk of existence before I’d run back to steal whatever she was willing to give.
I did as she asked, switching from one breast to the other while sliding my thumb in a steady rhythm over her clit. She was slick with need, her body coiled tight, the tension building.
Her hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in. Perfection. An unhinged Tilly lay under me, her chest rising and falling in short pants, her hips swiveling, trying to eke out every scrap of pleasure I was giving her.
I slid a finger inside, watched with greedy fascination as she tilted her head back with a groan and arched her luminous breasts closer to me. Her walls clenched my finger. So badly, I wished it was my cock she gripped. Soon.
The first full-body quake hit her. It rippled through her, creating an erotic image I’d remember the rest of my life. This woman drove me crazy in all the good ways.
Slowly, I circled her clit once, twice. Her body tightened. I slid my finger out to replace my thumb on her bundle of nerves. Her eyes flew open as her crest stalled, but I positioned myself and thrust inside. The pressure of my body knocked my finger against her clit and I used the momentum to bring her back to a swift peak.
Holding myself on one shaking arm, I let her passion unfold beneath me.
She cried to the ceiling, she clawed at her bed, she bucked, and when she came, it was the spectacular sight I’d been waiting for. Only then did I let go. The stamina that I normally prided myself on took its own vacation around her. Three thrusts were all I got in before my orgasm hit. Her sex clenched around me, her body cushioning me as I lost myself to blinding ecstasy.
I gave us both time to come down from our peaks, and when our breathing slowed, I rolled off her, dropping a lingering kiss on her lips.
“Let me clean up before we talk.”
She returned the kiss but let me go without protest.
In the bathroom, I dropped the condom in the garbage. If I had my way, I’d fill that damn garbage with condom wrappers. Would I seem too needy if I stuck around all weekend? I glanced around the bathroom. It was tidy, old, but well cared for. The rest of the place was the same from the little I’d paid attention on my way to her bedroom. The entire house could fit into my kitchen.
But my place didn’t have signs of Tilly everywhere. Like her emoji shower curtain and her pink, plush bathmats. Her towels were just as fluffy and bright yellow, except for the black-and-red one hanging on the hook on the back of her door. It reminded me of her Harley Quinn swimsuit.
And that she was waiting for my life story.
I flicked off the light and opened the door. She was tucked into her bed, facing me.
“Hey,” she said. The corner of the blanket flung back. She hadn’t dressed, and that fast I could take her again.
“Hey.” I crawled in and her gaze dipped to my hardening cock. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Not forever, I hope,” she teased.
My stress drained away. Threading an arm under her, I curled her into my chest and planted my gaze on the ceiling. “It was just Lynne and me.” How long had it been since I’d said her name out loud? “Growing up was okay. We weren’t a perfect family, but who is, I guess. Then the accident happened and my dad died.”
Her head popped up. “Your dad drowned, too.”
I only nodded. “My mom blamed the world. She’d blamed him for everything. Working too much, not making enough money, having a beater car. But when he died, she never seemed to get past the anger phase of grief. Most of it she redirected at me. School was the only reprieve I got from her relentless hounding. I just couldn’t do anything right.”
Taking care of my sister as a teenager had been hard enough, but when I was home, I couldn’t even sit down. Change Lynne’s diaper, dammit. She pissed herself again. Why didn’t you mow the lawn yet? The car’s past due for an oil change and I can’t fucking afford a service call. Get your ass out there.
When I looked back, I wondered how I’d tolerated it all. Day after day after day. It had been my life. I’d wallowed in guilt for not being there when Lynne had needed me. The excuse that I’d only been a kid still fell flat. I’d been a stronger swimmer than her and the reality was if I’d been there, at least she’d be alive today. Since Dad had died trying
