“Tell me how much you like this,” I growl.
She clenches around me, and I groan.
“I love this,” Delilah says. Hands on my chest. Hips move again, roll, flex. Fuck.
I pull her down again, hard, and she makes a noise.
“I love your cock inside me,” she says, breathing hard. “I love your dirty mouth. I love how good you feel and I love how hard you are to resist, and —"
She rocks back again, gasps.
“And I love you,” she finishes.
“I love you too,” I whisper, and she smiles at me.
“Good,” she murmurs.
She finds a rhythm, her hands on my chest. It’s slow and it’s deep and it makes her say my name as she rises, falls, grinds her hips into me and clenches her hands on my chest. I’ll have half-moon marks there tomorrow but right it feels too good to do anything about it, the pricks of pain blending with the whole-body pleasure of her, bringing everything into sharp relief.
I love this about her, too: her honesty when we fuck, the way she lets me give her what she needs. The way she’s never been coy about how good it feels or how much she likes it.
The way she breathes, I’m gonna come when she gets close. She leans into me, slides down my cock, moans with her head thrown back. I pull her hips down as far as I can and she grinds herself against me and she moans make me come Seth, makes me come, make me —
The words stop when she clenches around me, become nothing but sound. She rocks against me and I pull her down, onto me, going as deep as I can until she jerks with every stroke and she kisses me fiercely.
“Fuck, that felt good,” she says, our lips still touching.
“Sure looked like it,” I tease her, and she laughs softly, dipping her head next to mine.
I hold onto her hips and slide into her again. She groans into my ear.
“Still feels good,” she says. I do it again and she gasps. Bites my ear. I fuck her harder and this time she grunts and then she pushes back, sits up.
Delilah anchors her hands on my thighs. She lifts up and arches back until the only part of me inside her is the very tip of my cock, and then I watch her take me in one hard stroke.
It might be the best thing I’ve ever seen. It’s even better because she moans when she does it. It’s better because of the white-hot pleasure that shoots through me, because her tits bounce, because there’s some absolute, primal satisfaction in watching the woman you love ride your cock and like it so much she can’t stop.
She does it again, harder, and this time when I meet her she gasps with pleasure. I move my thumb to her clit and stroke her in the same rhythm that we set, trying to memorize everything about this: the way she looks, breathes, sounds.
The way she suddenly slows down when she’s about to come, taking me in hard and deep, muscles fluttering around me. I stroke her clit harder and faster and she whispers fuck yes, Seth, and she comes even harder than the first time.
I follow her by seconds while she rides me, pussy clenching me like a vise as I come inside her. I feel like I’m capsizing into the sea, overturned and wrecked, like she’s destroyed me and now I need her to put the pieces back together.
When we finally stop moving, I sit up, still inside her, put my arms around her waist as she wraps her legs around me.
There’s a long, slow kiss. There are her hands in my hair, on my back, my shoulders, my arms. There’s Delilah everywhere, which is right where I want her to be.
“Bird,” I murmur. “I love you.”
She kisses me deeply. Slowly. Mouths open, tongues together.
“I love you too,” she says. “You know.”
“I do,” I tell her.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Delilah
I tilt my head against Seth’s shoulder, warm and slightly damp against my cheek. We’ve moved, but not much: sitting up against the green velvet of my headboard, pillows and blankets scattered around us.
“Shit, I didn’t even ask if you were okay to bareback,” I say, too lazy to be properly concerned. “Sorry.”
His head is back against the headboard, and he smiles, laughs softly.
“Bird, I promise I’d have said something,” he tells me.
“I mean, I’d hope so,” I say.
For the record, I didn’t really think that he went out, got some unprotected strange, and then built me a raccoon castle and said he’d always love me. It’s just a courtesy I should have remembered.
“I’m mildly insulted that you asked,” he teases, eyes still closed. “I haven’t fucked anyone else since you moved back, you think I’m gonna start now?”
I frown at him, mentally platy his sentence back. Then I do it again.
“What?” I finally say.
He opens his eyes, looks at me.
“I”m kidding,” he says. “Asking is responsible, I’m not insulted.”
“The other part.”
“Well, it’s hard to get an STD from your hand.”
“You haven’t slept with anyone else since I moved back?” I ask. “Since Fall Fest and the weekend in the motel?”
“No,” he says, as if confirming the obvious.
I just look at him. I look at him for a good, long time.
“I told you that,” he says, his face suddenly uncertain.
“You definitely didn’t.”
“I must have.”
I just tilt my head at him, and he clears his throat.
“Hey, Bird, guess what?” he says. “I haven’t been with anyone else in the two and a half years since you moved back to Sprucevale, isn’t that cool?”
“You’re impossible,” I say, but I’m smiling.
“I’m sorry, I thought I’d told you,” he says, then leads back again, laughs. “Fuck, I felt like it was written on my skin.”
“It’s kind of a lot of text, but I could definitely do that for you,” I say.
His hand drifts to mine, takes it, turns it over. It’s my left, a band-aid still over the new tattoo.
“What happened?”
As an answer, I take the band-aid off. Underneath, the star is black and shiny, still slightly pink around the edges since it’s still healing.
“Got another one,” I say. “Well, technically, I gave it to myself. Luckily I’ve gotten better at them.”
Seth cups my hand from below and looks at the tiny tattoo for a long time, thinking.
“That one’s gonna be hard to hide,” he finally says.
“I know,” I tell him. “Fuck it.”
He leans in and kisses me on the temple.
“Vera and my dad are gonna hate it,” I say, still looking at the star. “Winona’s going to quietly disapprove but not say anything, Olivia’s going to make a face, and her husband is going to express some sort of terrible concern about me ever having a job interview, as if I don’t have a job.”
“I like it,” Seth says.
“Thanks,” I tell him. “I like it too. And I’m done letting their opinions override my own.”
He gives me another kiss on the temple, and this time his lips linger a moment longer, his hand still under mine.