Page 17 of Sweeter

I grin and put out my fist.

“Paper, scissors, rock,” we chant. I throw scissors and so does Will. We laugh.

“Guess we’re in the same kind of mood,” he says, lying back on my sheets. “Give it to me, baby.”

“Oh, I will.” I straddle his hips and grip his cock, sliding it where we both need it to be. “But we do paper and rock after, yes?”

“Of course.”

I take a deep breath, savouring the moment, and then I sit down. I’m so turned on I part with ease, and as Will’s cock sinks all the way inside me, we both moan.

Will clutches my thighs, his fingers digging deliciously into my skin. I hate it when men touch lightly, like being pale is the same as being porcelain. Will touches me like I’m a woman who can handle herself, and he’s right. I rise on his cock, pulsing slightly.

“Fuck yeah. You like that dick, baby?”

My pussy clenches. “Yes, daddy. Fuck me, please?”

Will’s hips rise, pushing his cock deeper inside me. I’m so tight, it’s almost too much to bear. I reach down and rest my middle finger over my clit, rubbing as I rock, trying to redistribute the pleasure.

First times are supposed to be slow and exploratory, but this is fast, animal sex. Will’s hips slap against mine as we merge ourselves together. I’m so tight I can hardly breathe, and my lungs are full of the thinnest, coldest air.

“Daddy, I’m so close.”

“So come, baby.” Will’s fingers close around my nipples and I scream as my pleasure burns into that raw ecstasy once again. I feel like I’m on fire, all gold and scarlet and bottomless black. I close my eyes and know I’ll remember this for a long time. Maybe forever.

Beneath me, Will groans. “Sweetheart, daddy needs to come.”

“Do it. Come in me.”

He swears and thrusts up into me, his hands like a vice around my hips. I imagine him pouring into me, sealing us together. Afterward, we stay welded together for a long, long time. My body is sore and sweaty but my mind is as still as a glass of water, I’m nothing and I’m so happy to be nothing right here, with Will. It’s bliss, but if art has taught me anything, it’s that nothing can, or should, last forever.

“I need to get off you,” I say. “The condom. And the potential for UTIs if I don’t pee.”

Will doesn’t bat an eyelid at the UTI talk. “You’ll be right back, right?”

“Of course.”

I pad to the bathroom. Despite the central heating, I’m freezing. Seems I’ve been unwittingly addicted to Will’s body heat. Among other things. I pee and head back for the bathroom, a little apprehensive about what’s coming next. Some guys are all fun and games until the condom comes off, then it’s like you just shared a bumpy bus ride instead of your body.

“Hey,” Will says as soon as I open the door. “Come cuddle.”

I bite back a goofy smile and fold myself into his arms. We nuzzle together like bunnies.

“I feel so good,” Will says, sounding amazed. “Everything feels good.”

I smile into his hyper-warm shoulder. “I’m glad.”

We laze together for a while, then Will cups my cheek and kisses the tip of my nose. “Call me daddy anytime.”

I smile and then the thought comes, unwelcome as an upskirter in a change room—I could love you. I won’t say it, but I can feel it, bright as a sunbeam. I sit up, energized beyond all belief. “Hey, it’s still early, do you want to go into the studio, after all?”

Will grins. “Sure, I’d love to see more of your work. And once you’re done showing me how amazing you are, we can come back here and do rock and scissors.”

God, is this a dream or a simulation of absolute happiness? “That would be great. Do you want a shower?”

“Only if you’re in there with me.”

Will and I cram ourselves into my tiny shower and kiss until the water runs cold. Afterward, I pull on my warmest clothes and leave Will arranging his hair in my bedroom mirror. I pull out my French press and coffee grinds as I whistle ‘Oh What a Night’ by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons.

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