He uses the hand that’s not covering my mouth to squeeze my pussy like he’s claiming it, to play with my clit while he fucks me. As a result, my pleasure builds and builds.
I hope he doesn’t do another one of those double whammy orgasms that melted my whole mind... but I kinda hope he does, too.
I want to warn him, to remind him that my mom’s upstairs asleep and if he makes me come as hard as he did that one time over the weekend, I might not be able to hold back a scream.
But when I go to warn him, I realize he has my mouth covered. Even if I do scream, he can probably muffle it.
“Your pussy likes to be used doesn’t it, Riley?”
His filthy words make me moan, but his hand over my mouth saves me from having to answer, makes it almost a taunt.
He slams into me so hard, my whole bed moves.
“You’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow without thinking about me.” He murmurs the words in my ear like he’s whispering an endearment, but the words themselves are greedy and possessive. He doesn’t want me to be able to sit down without thinking about him. He doesn’t want me to breathe without thinking of him. If he could leave an impression of his dick in my lungs so I wouldn’t be able to, he damn well would.
Jealous, possessive jerk.
There’s no sting in the words when I think them right now, though. I reach back and run my fingers through his hair, cradling his head and pulling him closer as he fucks me.
He’s a lot to deal with, but I love him so much.
His lips find my neck. I dig my fingers into the soft pillow, my eyes drifting closed. He pounds into me harder and faster every time he pulls out. He wants to make good on his promise. He wants me to ache for him tomorrow.
I ache for him all the time. Surely he knows that by now.
As if he doesn’t and he still has a point to prove, he fucks me harder and harder, forcing me deeper and deeper into my mattress. It gets harder to breathe, especially with his hand covering my mouth, but he never moves it. Not even when my cries and whimpers grow more and more frequent, and he knows I must be getting close.
He shoves a finger in my pussy and starts to flick my clit again as he fucks me and kisses my neck. Butterflies break loose in my tummy, flying over eroding, sinking land. I feel like I’m coming apart.
Desperation to break away from him takes over. I’m too afraid I can’t take it and keep quiet, but he has me trapped, pinned down to the bed. I can’t go anywhere even if I want to.
That ratchets up my arousal even more.
I try to cry out his name, but it’s smothered against his palm.
I can’t breathe.
My heart feels like it’s going to explode.
My insides feel like they’re going to explode.
And then they do.
My broken, euphoric cries are muffled against Hunter’s palm, but even so, he presses my face into the pillow to further smother the noise.
The orgasm rocks me, my pussy squeezing his cock and pumping his cum into me as he lets go, groaning and cursing through his own orgasm.
Tremors of pleasure continue to rock me as I curl up on my side.
Hunter settles in behind me, locking an arm around my waist and pulling my body snugly against his. Tears have gathered in the corners of my eyes, but I’m not sure why. I’m not sad. I’m too fucking satisfied to be sad.
I feel a little shattered, just like I did last time he did that to me. I don’t know how he does it, makes the orgasms more intense. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, because my mind is literal jelly.
Hunter takes advantage, holding me close and kissing me tenderly, whispering reassurances and endearments and all sorts of lovely words as I try to pick up the fractured pieces of my mind.
He’s not covering my mouth anymore, so I’m able to say, “You’re so good at that.”
Hunter chuckles, pressing another kiss to the side of my neck. “Am I?”
“You know you are,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “Don’t pretend to be modest. We both know you’re not.”
“I wasn’t being modest, just pointing out your limited expertise on this subject. You’ve only ever fucked me,” he points out. “You don’t really know if I’m good at it or not. Maybe all sex is that good.”
“Is it?” I ask.
“No,” he murmurs back, reaching around to take my hand and press it against the mattress.
I snuggle up in his arms like a contented kitten, but I’m not content at all. “I love you.”
“I know.”
“I wish I didn’t,” I mutter.
His voice a touch more solemn, he says, “I know. I haven’t made it easy for you. I’m sorry.”
We don’t say anything more for a while, he just holds me and I enjoy his warmth while I have it.
When I feel close to drifting off, I rouse enough to roll back and tell him, “You should probably go. I don’t want us to fall asleep again. If my mom catches you in my bed, it’s going to be weird.”
“I’ll leave before she gets up,” he promises. “I have my alarm set on my phone just to be safe. Just let me sleep with you for a while.”
“Okay,” I murmur sleepily as he snuggles me closer. “One more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“How did you get into my house?”
“The key that was in your purse the night you left it at Valerie’s. I didn’t think she should have it, so I made her give it to me.”
That’s a relief. I completely forgot to tell Mom we might want to consider changing the locks, but after a while, I assumed Valerie must have thrown it away.
“I was actually worried about that for a while. You could’ve given it back to me,” I tell him.
“Nah. Wanted to hold onto it in case I ever needed it.”
I shift, finding a comfortable place to rest my head on his muscular bicep and closing my eyes. “Stalker.”
Amusement thick in his tone, he says, “I’m too hot to be a stalker, remember?”
“Mm,” I murmur sleepily. “It’s courting when you do it.”
“Exactly.”
I smile faintly, shaking my heavy head. “You’re so crazy.”
“You love me anyway.”
“I do. I must be crazy, too.”
Chapter Fifty Five
Riley
Hunter fucks me again before the sun rises, but true to his word, he’s gone by the time my alarm goes off for school.
I’m almost a little sad about it, though. I didn’t hear him leave, so I didn’t get to say goodbye.
I know I’ll see him at school, but it’s different there.
I go through my morning routine, more tired than usual. Mom remarks on it as I pour myself a second cup of coffee, but I can’t exactly tell her Hunter snuck in the house and kept me up half the night.
I’m more prepared for the bullshit as I make my way into school today, so it doesn’t bother me as much. Plus, there are no surprises today.
I make it through my morning classes, and Hunter is there waiting for me when I get to English. I slide into my seat next to him and open my notebook.
“You were missed yesterday,” I tell him.
Clutching his heart theatrically, he says, “Aw, you missed me.”