But fuck it if I’m not a slave to this need to get off right now.
“Dex,” she says through a moan, her hands going into my hair, making tiny fists, trying to hold on even though I can’t be stopped, not now, not when I’m losing my fucking mind to her body.
I’m rutting into her, raw and ruthless, my ass cheeks clenching with unlimited power as I drive into her, again and again, deeper and deeper. She makes these incredible noises that are nothing short of a symphony and I’m the conductor.
“Jesus,” she swears, hands going down my back now in an effort to contain me as I thrust harder, faster. I bury my head into her neck, biting her there until I taste blood.
She gasps in pain.
Sweat pours off me.
The bed slams against the wall.
The smell of sex fills the room.
“Dex, Dex, oh god,” she cries out, clawing at my back in vicious scratches, and I can’t hold it together any longer. I feel her clench around me as the breath inside her stills.
Then she’s unleashed, quaking beneath me.
And I come so motherfucking hard it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.
“Fuck!” I call out, my mind going black and blank, the roar of the orgasm ripping me apart at the seams. “Holy fucking FUCK.”
I’m blabbering now, barely aware that my thrusts are slowing down, that I’m still coming inside her somehow, like there’s a dam inside me that won’t subside.
But eventually it does.
I collapse on top of her, trying to get air back into my lungs, my heart thundering against my ribs so hard I feel like it’s trying to meet hers.
What the hell just happened there?
We have sex a lot. Sometimes it’s freaky.
But it’s been a long time since it’s been like that.
I don’t even have words for it.
“Dex,” Perry says softly.
I lift up my head and gaze at her, my eyes trying to focus.
My god, she’s beautiful.
And to think she’s mine.
“I’m sorry, am I crushing you?” I ask, licking my lips, making a sorry attempt to push off of her.
“No!” she cries out, eyes flashing. She grabs my shoulders, holding me against her chest, the sweat of my exertion sticking between us. “No. Don’t. I just…”
“I know,” I manage to say, smoothing her hair off her forehead. I eye the bitemark on her neck. I hate that it turns me on, like I’ve left my permanent mark there. I guess a wedding band isn’t enough. “I got carried away.”
She nods slowly, her eyes resting on my mouth, my nose, searching the corners of my face, like she can’t really believe it’s me. “I didn’t mind,” she says softly. She swallows, nostrils flaring. “I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.”
I give her a wry smile. “Gee, thanks.”
“I can’t remember the last time you came like that either,” she says. “Something changed.”
“Nothing changed,” I tell her quickly.
But, of course something has.
It’s what we’re about to do tomorrow.
It’s that step into the past.
Into the unknown.
Into the fear.
And if I wasn’t afraid of spooking her, I’d probably tell her my theory.
That sex heals me, it’s a balm on the wounds I bury deep.
It quiets the chaos of my mind.
And it strengthens that bond between us when we’re going to need it most.
“Well, that was one hell of an anniversary present,” she says, as if that was to blame.
And then I realize fuck, I never bought her an anniversary gift. I thought that having a romantic night somewhere would be enough, but of course that’s not enough, you always get the wife something else nice as an extra. And now we’re not even going to the beach at all. Instead we’re going to be re-enacting scenes from Beetlejuice with her sister and the Cheeto-head.
Dex, you fucking tool. Worst husband of the year award, right here.
Oh well. At least there was the orgasm.
I pull out and roll off of her, also aware that the chances of her sister and father hearing us were quite high.
I think from the way she’s sitting up, looking sheepish, she’s thinking the same thing.
“If anyone asks, we’ll just tell them we had to battle the closet monsters again,” I tell her, slipping on my briefs. I toss her her bra and sweater.
“Dex, don’t talk about that,” she warns me, eyes darting to the closet.
“Hey, that’s all done with. You know that.”
But for how long? Her voice whispers softly in my head.
I guess we’ll see.
* * *
The next day rolls around in harmony with Halloween. The morning is foggy and dark gray, with trails of mist moving through the fir trees outside the window in the kitchen.
I’m sitting at the table, mainlining coffee, along with Ada and Perry.
The two of them are quiet as they pick at their breakfast, then they occasionally look at each other in either surprise or annoyance, which makes me think they might be having a conversation in their heads. Either way, I’m not about to get involved in their sisterly business, which seems more and more complicated by the day. Judging by the way Perry is keeping her hair wrapped around the bite mark I left on her, Ada is probably giving her shit about that.
Honestly, I’m in my own world, trapped in my own head. My thoughts are bouncing back and forth on a loop, as it happens sometimes. I have good days and bad days, and some days the medication isn’t enough, I need extra coffee to power through. Or a cigarette. Fuck, I would kill for a cigarette.
I keep thinking about two things.
One is the sex I had last night, because I’m nothing if not on-brand.
And two is what we’re about to do tonight.
As for the sex, I’m not sure what exactly came over me, but I have a feeling that it won’t be a one-time thing. There’s something in
