Page 47 of Walk Off

You and me both, buddy.

He opened the condom she’d seen him grab from his pocket and watched as he slid it down his impressive length. Then he was above her, kneeling on the bed, her thighs spread wide.

“I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice no longer sounding in control, and if she wasn't mistaken, his hands were shaking a little.

“I’m all yours.” She wrapped a hand around his head and guided him closer. His cock nudged her pussy and they both groaned. “I don’t need slow. I just need you.”

He took that for the truth when he slammed fully inside her.

“Oh God, yes,” she moaned, trying to keep her voice down, but not sure she’d succeeded.

“I swear to God, you feel better than anything.” He was in a complete daze as he moved inside her. His hips pistoned over and over again, taking her higher and higher. When he gripped her leg, lifting it and pressing it against her chest, she felt him go even deeper.

She lifted her arms above her head, looking for something, anything to grip onto. Her fingers found her wrought iron headboard.

“Oh yeah, leave those hands there,” he demanded. “I want you completely open to me.” He fucked her even harder, his hips pounding into her body.

It felt so good, so delicious, and she loved that it was him giving her this pleasure.

She also loved how out of control he seemed for her. She wasn’t going to dwell on what came next. For now, she was going to enjoy the hell out of him fucking her.

He was like a madman. He’d slow his pace after taking her to the edge, driving her crazy. Then he’d do it again, teasing her clit as he thrust his hips against hers. He did this over and over again, and she thought she was going to die from lack of release. When she thought all was lost, he grabbed both her legs, slung them over his arms, and thrust into her wildly as she writhed and begged.

That was all it took to send her flying, to take her to the one place she could only ever reach with thoughts of him. This time, it wasn’t just thoughts of him that had her coming, it was actually him. The real live version of him in her bedroom.

She wasn’t sure how a memory of him was ever going to compete again.

She felt him stiffen above her and cry out, “Celia,” in a whisper as he came. She stroked his back when he fell on top of her. She didn’t mind the weight of his body. In fact, she almost wished he’d stay there forever.

Her own version of a security blanket.

A few seconds went by before he pulled out and dealt with the condom. She was glad he understood without her saying anything. One accidental pregnancy, that they hadn't really dealt with yet, was enough.

When he came back to the bed, she was sitting up with the covers pulled up over her body. She didn’t say anything because really, what could she say.

“I tried to stay away,” he said as he slipped under the covers with her. “I promise, I tried.”

“I don’t know what we’re doing or what this is.” She might as well go with the truth since she vowed to never lie to him again.

He laughed. “You think I do?” He sighed. “I should hate you, and there still is a little hate left inside me, but each time I see you or even talk to you, that dwindles.” He turned his head, looking at her. “Why do you think that is?”

She shrugged. “I have no clue. I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself most days, and have since the day I stood in front of you and said all those mean things.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds, Kyle looking at her with a straight face. “That was the worst day of my life.” His words tore her in half.

“Mine too,” she said quietly, wanting him to understand that nothing that happened that day or after made her feel good about herself. “Did you really not know I’d be at the wedding?”

He shook his head. “I had no clue. Your social media is locked down tight, I know because I tried to look you up, but I knew that Ruby had married Dallas, so I assumed they’d be there. I thought I might be able to talk to Ruby and see how you were. Possibly get your number.”

That made her head want to explode. He’d wanted to see her that badly? “Even after what I said that day?”

“What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I meant what I said that night. I never forgot about you.”

“But you’ve dated, right?” She’d seen it firsthand in the media.

“I did, a little. Well, a lot during a particularly bad period. I even had a girlfriend once.” He picked up her hand, turning it over in his. “None of them compared.”

She was going to hyperventilate. He was in her bed, touching her and telling her he never forgot her and that no one else compared to her. How was she supposed to process that kind of information?

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