Page 69 of Severance

My hands reach for his cheeks, cupping his face, and my lips seek out his mouth. The kiss is chaste and friendly. Or at least, that’s what my drunk brain tells me. But that’s enough to ignite the small spark that’s been lingering between us all evening.

I hear a low rumble in his chest as his hands slip around my waist and rest on my ass to draw me closer. His need is deep and he’s not holding anything back. Our bodies hot with want, our lips taunt each other, and the sound of our moans splinter off into the warm night and fill the kitchen. His tongue stroking mine is demanding and fierce and his hands roaming my skin are blatant and grabby.

I don’t know how we make it to the bedroom. It seems like a very long, very hot trip that consists of multiple make-out sessions against every single wall in the apartment. When we finally stumble into his room, I’m a wheezing mess and my panties are soaked. I’m not sure why—we haven’t even gotten to third base yet, but my body begs for him to take me.

Mikah reaches for the hem of my t-shirt and pulls it over my head, his eyes darting to my breasts. He drops his face and kisses them through the lace of my bra as my fingers move through his hair. As we plummet onto his bed in a panting frenzy, Mikah’s on top of me, kissing down my neck as our bodies move together. He’s heavy and hot, and his hips rolling against the pulsating area between my legs in a perfect rhythm tease me with the promise of something wild.

His fingers fumble with my zipper and he rids me of my jeans and panties within seconds. When he pushes himself off the bed and starts undressing, my heart staggers like a hopeless drunk as I watch him wrestling off the rest of his clothes.

The dark shadow of his silhouette hovering above me and his scent—smoke and cologne—shatters all my defenses. He’s lean and fit and his ink artwork is so magnificent that looking at him pushes me over the edge.

I scoot away from the edge of the bed and Mikah lowers himself back on top of me and helps me to take off my bra. We kiss and touch each other with a sense of crazed urgency, as if we need to get it over with before we realize what we’re doing is wrong. I know it is, but I can’t help it.I like the way he makes me feel.

My stomach spasms with need as Mikah kisses his way down to my breasts and takes my nipple into his mouth, his tongue moving in slow, magical circles. I release a deep moan and fist his hair, my mind slipping into unhinged insanity.

My pulsing center aches with want. I tremble all over as Mikah’s mouth moves farther down my body and his lips lightly stroke my skin. They are greedy and ravenous. I’m so high on his touch that I lose track of everything he’s doing to me.

“Turn around,” Mikah growls against my stomach, pushing himself up.

My heart slams into my chest. I’ve never done it like this before.

We’re a mess of pants and moans as he repositions me.

“Are you on the pill?” His voice rumbles through me and I realize I’m on my knees, my hands grasping the headboard, and he’s behind me.

“No.” I say nervously. A pool of wetness gathers between my legs.

Mikah doesn’t say anything. His hands cover my ass and he runs his calloused palms up my back, leaving a trail of goose bumps in the wake of his touch. His fingers sink into my hair and he tugs on it gently, just enough for a wave of tingles to run across my scalp, but I’m not sure what’s expected of me. I’m too drunk to think straight.

Mikah moves closer, his heat coaxing me into sweet madness. He slips his hand between my legs, and when he begins to massage my swollen clit, the rush is incredible. Tossing my head back, I close my eyes and let the sensation take over my brain.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Mikah whispers against my neck, pushing his finger inside me. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking.”

A startled gasp rushes out of me. He’s a dirty talker and I like it. I like hearing these filthy words. They’re honest, unrestrained and unfiltered.

My breaths are loud and shallow and I’m burning all over when Mikah slides a second finger into me. He pumps them in and out wildly, almost taking me to the brink of something I don’t believe I’ve experienced before, and I wonder if this is what everyone raves about when they talk about sex. I wonder if this is what real pleasure is like. The feel of Mikah’s hardness behind me is terrifying because I have no idea what he’s going to do next, but my body loves it. My every nerve throbs when he withdraws his fingers from me.

The tip of his tongue licks a wet trail across my shoulder and he grabs at my hips, positioning himself at my entrance. Then he slams into me deep and fast, and I’m overcome with dull, delicious pain as my insides struggle to accommodate his size. My hands squeeze the headboard, and the sound that leaves my mouth is a combination of a scream and a whimper.

“Fuck.” I hear him curse in my ear while his mouth grazes my temple. He palms my breasts and thrusts harder, the bed squeaking under the pressure of his movements. I writhe beneath his weight, my vision blurring.

Mikah groans against my cheek and rocks steadily, his sweat dripping across my back as his breaths blend with mine. Hurt, anger, and want roll through my stomach all at once, forming into a throbbing ball of impassioned yet lewd hunger that fills my every cell.

“Have you thought about me?” Mikah grunts, his body crashing into mine. His hips grind against my ass as his damp chest rubs against me. “Tell me. I know you have,” he presses. “I know you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you. That’s why you call me at three in the morning.”

I respond with a loud moan.

“And you were already so fucking wet from just thinking about this, weren’t you?”

I don’t know what to say. His words make me question our phone conversations, but I’m too drunk to give an answer and he’s too wound up to pursue the conversation. So instead, we continue to fuck.

It’s a long, loud, and dirty act, and Mikah rides me like a madman until I can’t handle any more. He reaches around to pinch my clit and that’s all it takes. I come hard, my arms and legs quivering as my head spins. I’ve never felt anything this powerful during sex. All of my emotions that’ve been stuffed in a small box somewhere deep inside me discharge in the form of a desperate scream of release. He shudders against me and after he pulls out, I feel hot fluid searing across my back.

“Don’t move,” he rasps into my hair, reaching toward the nightstand. Moments later, when something soft slips over my skin, I realize it’s only a tissue.

We both fall onto the damp sheets afterward. There’s no hugging or kissing. No guilt talk and no discussing what just happened.

There’s just silence. Deafening and excruciating silence.

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