My inner walls clench around him this time and it’s like a jolt runs through me, electrifying my blood and my skin and my bones. There’s a pinch. A sting as he starts to pull out, only for him to thrust inside again and this time…
This time, there’s no pinch. No sting.
Spence moves and I do too, completely fascinated with every little thing he’s doing. The way his hands are braced on the bed on either side of my head. The sway of his necklace as he pushes in and out of me. The sheen of sweat forming on his forehead and his chest. The curling dark hair in the center of his pecs, hair that wasn’t really there when he was seventeen and we’d get naked, hidden away in my room at Lancaster Prep, so he could finger me, and I would jerk him off.
Oh, those were good days. When my worries had nothing to do with future husbands and babies and all of that horribly responsible adult-type shit. When I could just be with Spence without a care.
“Fuck, Sylvie,” he grits out, sounding as if he’s in pain. “You’re so tight.”
“Too tight?” I ask, like the virginal idiot I am.
He chuckles. “Never.” Then dips his head for a kiss. “You’re squeezing me so hard I’m going to come in minutes.”
Good. I want him to come in minutes. We should hurry. This is my last shot to be with Spencer before I have to give him up forever.
He must sense when my muscles warm and loosen because, soon enough, he’s fucking me in earnest. Fucking me hard. The slap of our skin connecting fills the room, as does the scent of sex. Despite the earlier orgasm I experienced, my body is fired up and ready to go, and I reach between us, my fingers finding my swollen clit as I begin to stroke.
Spence bats my hand away, his rough fingers drawing tinier and tinier circles around it, until I’m throwing my head back, unable to breathe as a second orgasm rockets through me, leaving me breathless.
Mindless.
“Fuck,” he grits out, right as I feel that first splash of cum deep within me. Soon enough, I’m flooded, his thrusts never slowing as he rams himself inside me, a ragged groan sounding low in his throat.
I rub his back when he slumps on top of me. Up and down, tracing along his smooth skin, breathing in the scent of his cologne. His shampoo. He’s still embedded inside me, and I wonder if I’ll always remember what this moment felt like when I think of Spence.
How he’s become a part of me.
“I’m too heavy.” He starts to pull away, but I grip him tighter, keeping him from leaving.
“No,” I whisper, swallowing hard. Past the thick emotion coating my throat, making me want to cry. “Don’t go. Not yet.”
He lies there for a moment, giving in to my request, until he can’t take it any longer. When he pulls out of me, semen gushes, wetting my thighs and the bed beneath me, and I feel hollow. Empty. I almost want to push his semen back inside, so I can take a piece of him with me when I leave, but I don’t.
I don’t want him to ask why.
“I should’ve worn a condom.” He falls onto his side next to me, his hand reaching between my legs to gather up the cum.
I slap his hand away, then immediately regret it. “Leave it. I’m fine.”
He rubs me, up and down, his fingers slow. Gentle. “There’s blood.” He holds up his fingers to show the streaks of blood mixed with his semen. “You really were a virgin.”
“Did you ever doubt me?” My voice is small. Hurt.
“Not really,” he says, his hand leaving me completely when I glare at him. “Come on, Syl. You tend to say a lot of crazy shit.”
My glare softens. He’s right.
“But you know you’re the only one for me,” he murmurs, the sincere glow in his gaze overwhelming.
“You’ll say anything to get a girl into your bed,” I tease, needing to lighten the moment.
The sincerity is replaced with pain, but I ignore it.
“Did you like it when I came inside you?” he asks, almost sounding…shy?
My sweet, sweet Spence. He’s a romantic. A knight in shining armor. Always running to my rescue.
Nothing can save me now, though. Not even him.