Page 97 of My Damaged Protector

He feels just right as he starts to grind against me, finding the right rhythm to drive me mad.

A smile breaks over my face. We used to do this back in the day. Exchanging words, synonyms, and near meanings, until the other person runs out. The only difference this time is that this isn't just something we're doing as a competition. It's something we're doing to bond.

“Unique,” I say.

He chuckles, bringing his head back up so our eyes meet and then he puts a hand between us where he finds my clit and starts to apply pleasure to it.

Goosebumps break over my skin, and I start to lose my vision.

“Extraordinary,” he says to get me to open my eyes.

Smiling, I take a hand to his jaw.

“Want to know what will be amazing?” I ask him.

“Tell me what's going to be out of this world,” he throws back at me.

“Your dick in my pussy, taking ownership of it and pounding me until I can't think straight will be wonderful.” I'm breathless by the time I'm done speaking as his dick has now found my hole, and he's holding himself right at my entrance.

“Fuck.” He groans and pushes right into me, both of us expressing our pleasure with words and sounds.

Teasing and word play sail right out of the room, and the only thing that exists is him.

He thrusts, I take, try to give back to him, and then he thrusts harder, making me lose my stance. I try to meet his move, and he thrusts harder.

It goes on for only a few minutes, but honestly it feels like hours when we're finally both shaking and holding onto each other as our orgasm ripples through our bodies.

When it's all done, we remain standing. Me with my back on the wall, one of my legs around his waist. Him between my legs, his dick in my pussy and his head on my shoulder.

It's the perfect picture of passion. Except what just happened was just an act of lust. I know this by the sigh that leaves him only a few minutes after his orgasm, before he pecks me on the cheek and removes his dick from my pussy, leaving me empty.

As he settles on the bed, not bothering to ask me to join him, I bend down and start to pick up my clothes and put them on.

When he finally deems me worthy of his gaze, it's with confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I waste not a single second stopping to answer him because I know what I'm doing is quite clear.

When I'm finally done getting dressed, I walk toward the door and open it.

“Sarah.” He says my name just as I take my first step out.

I pause, wanting more than anything to look back at him. But what good will it do?

He's not going to say he loves me.

So, I take the high road and get us both out of an awkward situation.

“Good night, Ian,” I say and finally take another step out, after which I close the door.

I go straight to the kitchen, my throat now suddenly feeling dry and in need of water.

My legs feel ready to give out under me at any moment as I walk but I soldier on regardless, not stopping until I'm in front of the fridge and pulling out a jar filled with iced tea. I pour myself a glass and drain it on the spot.

I'm about to fetch another glass when I hear a voice.

“You must be really thirsty. I wonder why.”

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