I wanted his finger to dip inside of me.
He moved closer to me, the side of my leg pressing into the side of his body and I reached for him. I was almost blind with pleasure by now.
He ran a finger down between my cheeks, right to my core, and he touched my thong.
Jesus. I was soaking wet.
He knew how this was affecting me.
My hand found his dick, and he released his own groan as my hand circled him, touching him through his jeans. “Fuck. Yeah.” He was almost panting, but he didn’t stop. He was circling my hole at the same time I was reaching for his button. I undid it, pulling his zipper down, right as one of his fingers pushed inside of me.
I tensed, pausing, and he rasped out, “Is this okay?”
I grunted. “God, yes.”
I didn’t ask for his permission. He was pushing up into my hand as I tugged his jeans down, and then I reached in and found his cock. I was holding him, stroking him at the same time he was thrusting inside of me.
Up.
In.
Down.
Out.
And so forth.
Then it wasn’t enough.
I needed more access. So did he.
He kicked his jeans off, and his cock was out.
My hand fully took him in my hold, and he was tugging my shorts all the way down.
We twisted around.
My mouth went over him, taking him in, sucking him in, and I felt his mouth find my pussy.
I trembled, almost coming right then and there as I felt his tongue replace his fingers.
They went to my clit. His tongue slipped inside, tasting me, and I sucked him all the way to the end of my throat.
His hips bucked up. One of his hands went to the back of my head. “Fuck,” he hissed.
I didn’t stop, and neither did he.
We worked each other over until both of us were shuddering and releasing.
* * *
We laid there for a few beats, but my heart was still pounding.
This. I needed this.
I hadn’t had this in so long, and I didn’t know him, and he didn’t know me. It was perfect.
I glanced back at him, saw him watching me, his eyes dark and heavy.
He was silently panting.
I asked, “Got a condom?”
His eyes lit up, and he licked his lips. “Fuck yeah.”
He twisted, grabbing his wallet from his jeans, and pulled one out.
He handed it over, and I wasn’t letting my brain turn on. Not now. Not tonight.
I wanted this.
Still facing away from him, I took his dick in my hand.
I worked him up, getting him hard.
To seal it, I took him in my mouth. One. Two.
I deepthroated him again, and when he was almost pulsing, and I was aching, I lifted my mouth off.
I put the condom on him, and without looking at him once during this, I straddled him, facing away from him.
He laid there, grasping my ass in his hands, and I slid down onto him.
I rode him, moving my hips, working him over, working both of us over.
At one point, I registered that he sat up.
He tugged my shirt off, my bra, and he reached around for my tits.
I felt him kissing my back, my neck, and he tugged my face toward him.
Our mouths caught and held.
We tasted each other, but I was still riding him, seeking another release, and I rode him hard.
He groaned, his hands going to my breasts, my nipples, and then sweeping down my body.
He began working my clit, but then after a bit, as I just kept riding him, he fell back down. His hands grasped my hips and he urged me to rock over him. Over and over.
It was fucking phenomenal.
When I felt it coming, so close, so tight, he growled, and flipped me over.
I was pressed into the bed, and he was thrusting into me from behind, but he reared back, thrusted in hard, deep and rough, and holy God, he pounded into me. Working his hand between my legs, he flicked my clit, and I grasped his hand, lifting up until I was kneeling. He was still pounding into me from behind, but I was controlling his hand as he was rubbing my clit.
Fucking glorious.
I felt his teeth as he nipped my shoulder blade. “You gotta come. Now.”
He pulled out, and thrust back in, then ground into me.
I cried out, and my climax ripped through my body. It left me trembling.
I was helpless, lying there as the quakes wracked my body.
He thrust in and out a few more times, one more grind, and then I felt him letting loose.
And then, it was done, and fuck, I couldn’t breathe.
4
It was almost karmic when I went to the bathroom that night, after Cruz left, and it was Taz who flushed her toilet when I was at the sink and getting ready for bed.
Jesus. Before Cruz, the last guy I’d been with was her brother.
I didn’t love her brother, but… I didn’t let a lot of people in, and he’d been one of those.
Yeah.
I hadn’t handled the last year in the best way. He and I were… I didn’t even know. But I couldn’t blame him for anything. And tonight, as I was brushing my teeth—after fucking Cruz a second time before he left—that I heard Taz’s toilet flush just as I was realizing a few things.
Taz came forward. Her caddy was already on the counter, and she went over to her sink, washing her hands first. “Hey.”
She looked unsure if she should even say hi to me or not. That was on me.
Seriously. Such a bitch.
I set down my toothbrush a bit harder than necessary.
Taz noticed, glancing my way. She was doing the same whole routine, getting ready for bed.
No one else was here.
Fuck, but dammit. I felt it was the best time.
“My mom is histrionic.”
She stumbled, her toothbrush hitting her mouth, and she cried out. She spit, grabbed some water, swirled, and spit that out. When she was done, she turned her sink off and turned my way. “Histrionic?”
“It’s a disorder, if you care, but trust me. Don’t care. It’s easier that way.” I wasn’t going to explain it. That’d take the precious energy I had even doing just this. “I love my mom, but she’s called me seventy-three times today.” I had my notifications for her turned off because no way could I handle all of them. “And every call or text, she thinks it’s a genuine emergency. It’s not, but she thinks it is. She wants the attention. She needs it. She feels loved if she gets the attention. I don’t give it—can’t give it—because I’m exhausted. And because I don’t, she tells me over and over again how she feels unloved by me. Her own daughter.”
Taz’s gaze fluttered, but I wasn’t caring.
I didn’t care to know what she was thinking or feeling.
That would take up my energy, and I had so little in reserve already.
I added, “I never told your brother. He just knows that I don’t do drama, and I don’t. I hate drama. I detest it, but I have no fucking clue why I’m telling you any of this. I guess… I’m not the bitch you think I am. I’m just tired of everything.”
Of family.
Of love.
Of existing.
I was so damn tired.
“Mara.”
Jesus. I’d been going to school for half a month, and none of my friends called me by my first name. I was ‘Daniels’ to them. For some reason, it hit me that Taz was the one to use my first name.