how desperately he holds me, clings to me. I start to get lightheaded, my breathing shallow, like I can’t possibly take in too much air or there won’t be room for Aaron. He’s inside of me in more ways than one, taking over me, diving deep.
My eyes close and I groan, the sound echoing around the room. Outside the door, I can faintly hear the other Prescott students laughing. Maybe at us, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. Not like they’re going to anything to my face.
Aaron is driving into me so hard that I ache in the best possible way. There isn’t an inch of me that he doesn’t rub against, brush against, touch. He’s rubbing against me at the same time he’s thrusting, nuzzling my neck, kissing me, making sure I’m really here, that he’s really inside of me, that we’re really together.
“Oh, Bernie, I missed you,” he murmurs, slowing down. Aaron leans back to look into my eyes, slowing the movement of his hips slightly. In and out, in and out. There’s a tenderness in his eyes, a desperate sort of affection that I want to see him fight for. But later. Later. Right now, I just want him to touch me, press his body to mine, crawl inside my soul.
We stay like that for a while, stuck in an unbroken rhythm that might as well be torture for my overheated body. I’m soaking wet now, probably drenching Aaron’s thighs. Doesn’t matter though. That’s the best part, I think, the mess of it. Sex isn’t supposed to be pretty. It’s too wild, too base, but it also keeps you grounded.
We are souls having a worldly experience, but we are also human.
My body clamps around Aaron, pulsing against him, making him groan as he takes my mouth with his, murdering my inhibitions. My first orgasm is easy and slow, like a lazy star streaking across a night sky. It makes my stomach muscles clench, the pressure in my spine unfurling like a flower.
Aaron, though, he doesn’t just let me enjoy it.
No.
Something changes when he sees my face like that, my shields down, my inhibitions stripped raw. His expression shifts, old anger surging into him. Aaron moves away from the wall and drops me to my feet while I’m still shaking and struggling to catch my breath.
He spins me around and then uses a palm on my lower back to shove me over the counter.
He enters me again with a violent thrust and I bite my lower lip, fingernails digging into the countertop as he rams into me, balls slapping, the sound of it taking over the room. I’m drowning in that sound, the noise of our lust.
He made love to me … now he’s hate-fucking me.
And I love it.
Arching my back, I press into Aaron, moving my own hips so that we make a pretty little push and pull, our moans mingling together. Mostly, I keep my eyes closed. Because I want to feel Aaron, not see him. I watched him for years, dated him, lost him, watched him again. I’ve done plenty of looking and I’m sick of it.
His fingers wrap my hair and pull my head back but still, I keep my eyes closed. I can feel the fingers of his other hand grabbing my hip, bruising, squeezing. Aaron powers into me, fast and hard and furious, until his muscles clench up and I feel his body tightening behind me.
With a desperate groan of relief, he spills himself while still trapped inside of me. After a few, final thrusts, he releases my hair and I lean my cheek down against the countertop for a moment. My body is still throbbing, but I don’t care. It was so worth it.
Before I can stand up though, I feel the air shift around me as he pulls out and then crouches down behind me. The heat of his breath brushes against my pussy just before he makes contact with his lips. His hands slide up my bare thighs and he holds me in place as he dips his tongue into my sweet honey.
Shit.
Aaron is just as good as Hael, but in a different way. Hael is slick, easygoing, confident to the point of arrogance. I could feel all of that in his tongue. Aaron, though, he’s more concerned with seeking out my specific pockets of pleasure, two fingers borrowing lube from my pussy to slide across my clit.
He takes his time, too, despite our current situation, working me