I move down on top of her, wrapping my arms around her as she hooks her legs behind my back and pulls me deep inside of her. She is breathing hard, her pussy still soaked from the orgasm that I gave her before, out there in the orchard, and she feels fucking perfect. Her fingers trace lines down my back, over my skin, against me, as though she is carving out her name on the trunk of a tree right there on the spot.
As though she wants everyone to know that I belong to her.
I move into her in slow, deep strokes, not wanting to rush this, not wanting to ruin what the two of us are making here. I need her to come again. I need to feel that sweet release around my cock. Her pussy is warm and tight and welcoming, her thighs beginning to clench against my sides as she bucks up to meet me with each and every thrust, and I move hard, harder, harder, until it feels like we are just pushing ourselves into one another.
We are trying to close the distance between us, trying to make it so that there is nothing here but the way that we feel, the way that we are able to make each other feel. She groans and I slow, needing to coax this out of her, grinding myself into her until I can feel her whole body starting to tense again, and then, finally...
She moans softly as she comes this time, far less theatrical than before, but the intensity of her orgasm is no less obvious to me. I can feel her pussy muscles clenching around me, and it doesn’t take long till the sheer pressure that she is exerting is enough to take me where I need to go.
"Fuck," she murmurs in my ear, and I turn my head to meet hers, our lips finding one another again, and her tongue speaks into my mouth as I finally finish inside of her. She grips me tight, fingers digging into my back so hard that I am sure they will leave marks, but I don’t care. I just want to feel her, every part of her.
I hold myself inside of her for a long time, not willing to let this be over yet, not even close. By the time that I pull back to look at her face once more, I notice that her eyes are shining with something that looks a lot like tears.
"Are you okay?" I ask her at once, sliding out of her and caressing her face softly. "Did I hurt you?”
"No, no, nothing like that," she promises me, and she smiles and shakes her head, wiping away the single tear that has started to leak down her cheek.
"Then what is it?" I ask. She kisses me again, as though trying to convince me that I don’t need to hear the answer to that.
"It’s not important," she assures me. I disagree. But I don’t know if I can pull it out of her. I don’t want to ruin what has been an otherwise perfect night by trying to take more from her than she is willing to give.
So, instead, I just pull her against my chest, and she settles her head against me and closes her eyes. I watch her as she begins to doze off to sleep, and I can’t help but smile. Because I know that she said this was only for one night – but I got the feeling that this is going to turn into something a hell of a lot deeper than that.
Chapter Eight
Honey
By the time that I am back in the van, I have hardly had time to think about what I am doing or where the hell I think I’m going.
I just know that I need to get out of here. Because if I spend another minute with that man, I am going to fall into something that I don’t think I can handle.
I know that what I am doing is crazy. One night with him, that was all it was – one night – and I have been so scared by everything that I feel for him that I have fled. I have another day at his little festival to see through, but I packed up my stuff, climbed back into my van, and drove, drove, drove toward my next stop, a couple of hours away.
I am not sure what he’s going to think when he wakes up to find that I am gone. Is he going to call me? I don’t know what I am going to say to him when he does. If he does. Does he even have my number? I don’t think so. I’m not sure if I’m glad about that, or pissed that I might really have just blown it.
It started last night, after we hooked up for the first time – the tears that sprang into my eyes as he held me, as I realized how much I had been craving the kindness of someone’s touch like that. When I realized how much I wanted to stay there, and how badly I wanted to stay with him, too.
I had allowed myself to fall asleep there, on his chest, in his arms, inhaling the scent of the apple trees beyond us, but when I woke early this morning, I knew that I couldn’t stick around. I am nothing but a problem for him, more than he can handle. He’s grounded, rooted, secure in this life that he has made, and what am I? I am just some flighty girl who has been living out the back of a van for the last few years, with no idea what she wants to do with her life and no idea how to move forward with it and...
And I am nothing but trouble for a man like him. No matter how intense my feelings towards him happen to be
