“This one looks like it’s just clothes...Oh.” He pulls out a lacy black bodysuit I haven’t had the chance to wear yet, and his eyes go wide. “Oh fuck.”
“Zach!” I snap. “Condoms.”
“Right.” He moves to the next box. “Uh, oh, this one looks promising. Yes! Condoms!”
He pulls the package out and chucks it over his shoulder at the bed, missing my head by an inch.
“Zach!” I shout. “You almost hit me in the face with condoms!”
“Oh, uh, sorry.” He makes his way back to the edge of the bed. “Can you get one out?”
I pull the string of foil packets out of the box and rip one off. When I look back up at Zach, he’s stepping out of his boxers. I forget all about whatever snarky comeback I was going to use and pull my lip between my teeth as I stare at his cock.
It’s perfect. I don’t know where I want it more: in my mouth or pounding into my pussy.
“Here,” I mutter, passing him the condom packet.
I don’t take my eyes off his cock as he rolls it on. Seeing him stroke himself like that is hypnotic. I swallow hard before moving back farther on the bed. He sets himself up like he’s waiting for me to get on my back again, but that’s not how I want him right now. I shift onto all fours instead.
He swears.
A lot.
When he’s finally recovered, I glance over my shoulder to see him line himself up behind me. I hiss when he runs his palms over my ass before wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and tracing the tip of it up and down between my legs. Whimpering, I let my head drop forward until it hits the pillow. I lower myself onto my elbows and grip the pillowcase so hard my knuckles turn white as I wait for him to slide inside.
He does it slowly, inch by inch, filling me with everything I’ve been craving. I clench around him, and he groans. We both go still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation, to the force of the connection.
We’re connected—not just our bodies, but our hearts and our minds. Our blood seems to be rushing in time. I feel it again: the weight of every moment that’s led us to where we are, the memory of every smile and sigh and stupid joke.
This is us. This is our story.
I thrust back against him to urge him on, and he doesn’t need any more encouragement. He starts off slow, and I can tell he’s trying to ease into things for me, but it only takes a few thrusts before he’s gripping my waist and pulling me closer as he drives himself into me as hard as he can.
It’s everything I need.
“Oui, oui. Yes. Don’t stop.”
He fucks me hard enough to make me scream, fucks me so good I know I’d beg for more if he stopped. I’d say anything he wanted just to get more of this. His fingers dig into my hips, the sting of pain just making me crave him even more. I need him everywhere. I need him to take everything I have.
Chasing the pressure, I raise myself up onto my knees so my back is flush with his chest. He throws an arm around my stomach to keep me from falling over, not slowing his pace as he lets his other hand cup one of my breasts. He teases my nipple, pinching hard enough that I feel myself start squeezing around his cock.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck.”
He takes one shuddering breath, and then he stiffens before falling apart inside me. He comes so hard he sends us both tumbling forward until I’m on my hands and knees again. He’s still thrusting, driving himself into me as he gasps for breath.
I don’t want him to stop. I want this feeling forever. I need it. I need him.
I need him.
The words echo in my thoughts as he finally pulls out and rolls onto his back, tugging me down on top of him.
I need him.
I nestle myself onto his heaving chest, shivering as his fingers trail along my spine. He sighs and presses his lips to the top of my head.
I need him.
I wrap my arms around him as hard as I can, and I don’t know what I’m more afraid of: that I’m holding him too tight, or not nearly tight enough.
Fifteen
Zach
TOP SHELF: a slang term for premium, high quality liquor
I try to sneak back into DeeDee’s room without Valérie noticing, but she pokes her head around the edge of the hall just as I’m reaching for the door handle.
“Well, well, well,” she drawls, stepping into full view and crossing her arms. “Looks like you graduated from the couch, strange boy.”
I feel my face flush. It’s just after eight in the morning, and the only thing I’ve got on is my boxers.
“Uh, yeah. Looks like I did.”
She smirks.
“We didn’t, uh, I mean, I hope we weren’t...I hope you could...sleeping?”
She squints. “Are you asking if you kept me up last night?”
I give up on speaking and nod.
“I’m just getting in now.” She laughs at my expense. “Tu es si mignon.”
She waves me off, and I close the door to DeeDee’s room with my face on fire.
“You roommate just told me that I am ‘so cute.’”
“Tell that bitch to back off,” DeeDee jokes from where she’s lying in bed, the sheet pulled up under her arms. I can see her nipples poking through the fabric, and my cock starts to harden in response.
Not now.
I already got off three times last night. The second time was from a blowjob that will go down in the history of my life as a supremely momentous occasion, and the third was from slow, sleepy sex in the dark when I woke up to the feeling of her ass grinding circles against my cock at 4AM.
I pause a few feet away from the bed. She looks gorgeous enough to stop my heart, lying there with the morning light falling on her bare shoulders. Her eyes are still a little heavy with sleep, and her mouth is stretched into a lazy smile. Memories of last night flash through my mind as I smile back at her. What we shared was more than physical. Last night, I took a dive into the deep end, and DeeDee jumped in right beside me.
It might be way too early to say it. It might be total sappy bullshit, but it feels like we’re finally becoming all we were meant to be.
“Good morning, my pink-haired princess,” I say, using the nickname some of the staff at the bar have for her.
Except for the ‘my’ part. That part’s new.
“Get back into bed.” She pretends to pout. “I’m cold.”
I slide in behind her, throwing an arm around her and pulling her tight against my chest.
“Do you want to go back to sleep?” I murmur next to her ear.
She shakes her head. “I think I am awake now.”
She clasps her fingers around my hand and yawns. Something tightens in my chest.
“What are you up to today?” I ask, fighting to sound casual.
There’s a thick lump of emotion threatening to lodge itself in my throat. Lying here with her in my arms has me wanting to say crazy things—things it’s definitely too soon for.
She lets out an annoyed groan. “Woooorking. I don’t want to.”
I put some husk in my voice. “You’d rather be here working for me?”
She laughs, but not before I hear her breath catch. “You wish. What are you up to today?”