Page 92 of Resisting the Running Back

He grabs my hand and practically runs down the hallway toward our room.

I walk in first, and he’s right on my heels as I peel off my dress while I beeline for the bed. I lay down on it as he fumbles with getting his cock back out from his pants. He drops those to the floor, and his shirt is somehow already off. He’s on top of me a second later, shoving his way back inside me, both of us naked now as we finally get the chance to alleviate the powerful ache we both feel that only the other can alleviate.

He slams into me, both of us grunting at the feel of picking up right where we left off. He’s still hard. He’s still wearing a condom. I’m still wet. And my body is begging for release.

I cry out—something I couldn’t do in the cabana—as we find our rhythm together. The rhythm is slow and intense as he drives into me with a force that’s stronger than before. Every thrust against me feels harder than the one before, and it’s sending me into another level.

After all these months, my body is used to his size, but when he slams into me the way he is, it feels like he’s reaching a new place inside me. It’s hard and intense, a little edge of pain riding along with the powerful pleasure as he penetrates me in a hot, new way.

“Oh fuck, Soph,” he grunts. He pushes into me again and stays there a beat, his cock twitching inside me as he holds still, my walls clinging against him as I lift my arms above me and clutch onto the pillow.

“You feel so good,” I moan. He pulls back and pushes in hard again, holding himself still.

“I love when your cunt grabs onto my cock like that. So fucking greedy,” he says.

I can only moan in reply as he pulls back and slams in again, my eyes rolling back as I grip harder onto that pillow, the feeling like I’m going to come mere seconds away.

He leans down and sucks one of my tits into his mouth, and that’s it. That’s everything I need to shatter into a million pieces beneath him on the bed. I cry out his name as I start to come, and he helps me ride it out by picking up the pace, slamming into me over and over and over as I fly over the edge of bliss.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes,” he groans as he starts to come, too, keeping up that wicked fast pace as he drives into me, and we ride out this climax together.

I’m still clutching onto the pillow as my body starts to calm down, and he’s still slamming into me as he comes. It feels so good as he keeps up the pace, his growls and grunts enough to spur me into a second orgasm.

“Oh, God! Miller!” I scream, and I let go of the pillow to clutch onto him, my nails digging into his skin as the second one hits me harder than the first. I think I might black out for a second from the pleasure as it falls over me like a blanket, enveloping me and surrounding me everywhere. I don’t know which way is up. All I know is that Miller is still inside me, still thrusting into me, still pushing my body to these heights I’ve never known before.

God, I love him. I love what he does to me. I love how connected we are. I love the intimacy between us. And I really, really love coming while he’s inside of me.

Twice.

I’ve never been with a partner who made me feel like this, and I never, ever want to let it go.

It’s when he moves to pull out of me that something feels wrong.

It’s always wrong when he pulls out and leaves a chill in his wake, but this time, I feel not a chill but a warm heat as something drips out of me.

“Oh fuck,” he says, and there’s something urgent in his tone, but I can’t quite get a handle on what’s happening with the fog my brain is currently under.

“What?” I ask.

“Condom broke,” he mutters. “Shit.” He stands and walks over to the bathroom rather than lying beside me as has become his habit after sex, and I try to sit up, but a rush of dizziness plows into me.

I lay back down.

The condom broke?

I feel like I should stand, or go clean up, orsomething, but I can’t seem to make myself move. I’m some level beyond exhausted and sated after a double orgasm, and everything is a total blur.

Did he just say the condom broke?

The condom broke.

I’ve never had sex without a condom. I’m not on birth control.

I try to think rationally about my cycle and where I might be in it, but I’m in a sleepy, orgasmic brain fog. My last period was…a couple weeks ago? I think. I should be fine. We should be fine.

Except…what if we’re not?

Miller has told me he doesn’t want kids.

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