Page 30 of Confession
His orgasm is still gripping him hard, ripping garbled curse words from him. Every thrash of his body sends a shockwave through me and the clenching of his ass milks every drop of my cum.
It takes me a long moment to come down from that. I stay inside him, stunned by how hard I came, unable to think.
Quinn is quiet and relaxed until I start to pet his damp hair, then he squirms and tries to get away from me. I pull out, gasping at the too-much sensation.
I roll onto my side, hooking an arm around him and scooting across the bed, dragging him with me to get him away from where he came on the sheets. He isn’t happy. He wants away from me.
“Just relax,” I mutter, frustrated with him.
“I don’t do this part,” he grumbles.
“Too bad.”
“Red.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Red.”
“Quinn. You alreadyaresafe.”
He’s breathing hard, upset, angry. I haven’t forgotten the tear I swiped from his eye as I fucked him. I want him to talk to me, but that’s too much to ask right now. Maybe this is too much too. He really wants me to leave, just like he wanted to escape after he blew me in my office.
But that’s not going to work. I need him to relax. So I threaten him, “Do you ever want to do this again?”
He breathes angrily for a while. Then he grits out, “Yes.”
“Then just lie here with me and breathe.”
He struggles with it, god does he struggle. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but I just start breathing against the back of his neck, and I keep my arm hooked around his ribs until he calms down.
When he’s lying quietly, I disentangle myself from him and scoot down to the foot of the bed. I get up and walk to the minikitchen, where I run the tap until the water is warm. I dampen a clean dishtowel and return to the bed.
Quinn hasn’t moved. His expression in blank. He’s completely shut down.
I clench my jaw, frustrated because I can see that I need to leave him alone and I really don’t want to. He has one arm out straight, his palm upturned. I press the dampened cloth into his hand. Then I go get dressed enough to walk through the house.
Carrying my shoes and shirt, I pause by the bed again. There are so many things I want to say to him, but I don’t think anything would get through in the way that I want.
So I sigh and say, “Goodnight, Quinn,” and I leave him alone.
ELEVEN
Quinn
I hate myself. I really do.
That’s the only thought I have for a long while as I lie in bed with Vitali’s cum inside me. I hate that I showed him that desperate, dark part of myself that needs to be dominated. I hate that I froze up after.
I can’t imagine what he thinks.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I imagine having to face him tomorrow. Usually, if I do something like this, it’s with someone I know I’ll never see again.
Jesus, I could’ve had sex with him without letting him see this part of me.
But no. I really couldn’t have. Because the way he counterbalances me, the way what I need fits with what he is, is half the reason I’ve been in love with him for years.
He fucked me so good. It took me out of myself, released so much pressure inside me. That’s why I’m fucked up now, drained.
