Page 13 of The Weight of Her Silence
“Fuck,” he mentally shout.
“Nate,” she says as desperate moans start to come quicker. She starts rocking her hips towards his mouth and fingers that is still pumping in and out of her.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he tells her.
Her hand slides down between her legs as he watched her starts massaging her clit.
“Like this?” she asked him.
“Just like that.”
Reaching down with his other hand, he stroke his erect dick getting himself nice and ready for her.
“Nate,” she calls his name as her legs start to shake.
He hook his fingers a little and she explodes. White cream is all over his fingers running down the bed he’s on. He starts licking her from her ass to her clit.
“Yes!” she shouts.
Her words spurs him on. He stands with his fingers still pumping in and out of her. She grins when he look into her eyes. She lifts, and pulls him down to her, and kisses him.
“Fuck me, Nate.”
Removing his fingers, he suck them into his mouth and she turns on her stomach letting him know what position she wants. Spreading her ass cheeks, he line himself up with her entrance and slowly slide in her. She tenses up.
“Relax,” he whispers.
Sliding all the way in, he just stand still enjoying the feel of her tight walls gripping him and letting her adjust to his size. After a few minutes, he starts thrusting in and out of her so hard the bed is knocking against the wall.
She is moaning and gripping the sheets with her back arched. She’s rocking her ass back and forth meeting his every stroke.
“Camille,” he calls out her name.
With this angle, he knows she can’t help but feels him trying to imprint himself all over her. He let her neck go and start massaging her breast. He is still pounding in her. He wanted her to feel every inch of him to where every thought of her’s will be about him when they leave this room.
“Nate, I’m cumming again.”
He never stop pumping his hips. He fucks her through her orgasm. She’s so fucking warm making him wants to cum too fast. He starts cumming in her and when he’s all done and depleted, he falls back on the side of her.
Later, tangled in her sheets, Camille whispered against his throat, “She doesn’t see you anymore, does she?
Not really. Not like I do.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Lila
It started as a strange heaviness in her bones. She told herself it was fatigue—nothing more. The kids had been needy lately. The house, chaotic.And Nate…Nate was quieter than usual. Present in body, distant in every other way. Still, Lila powered through. She always did. But there were days she’d stare at the laundry basket and feel inexplicably winded.
Or find herself blinking against sudden dizziness while cooking dinner. Her limbs ached in ways that made her feel twice her age. She didn’t mention it to Nate.
He barely noticed her anymore. Once, she caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror and barely recognized herself. Hollow eyes. Tired skin. A sadness that had settled into her shoulders like a second skin. But there was no time to fall apart.
Not when the kids still needed breakfast. Not when Nate was already slipping away and she didn’t know how to bring him back.
So she kept quiet. Ignored the weight in her chest. The racing heartbeat when she climbed the stairs. The moments where her vision blurred just long enough to scare her. Instead, she stood in the doorway of their bedroom late one night, watching Nate sleep.
His back was to her. His breathing even. He hadn’t touched her for a while now. And when she reached out to brush his shoulder, the way she used to—he flinched. That night, she curled up on her side of the bed, facing away, and silently wept into her pillow.
