I want…
I don’t really know what I want. Other than Kyle. I want Kyle so badly that it’s like an aching need in my chest. Kyle, who tried (though, perhaps, not very hard) to push me away despite his own aching erection, not sure if I really wanted him in that alley. Kyle, who ran through the rain last night to warn me about Jesse, just because he was scared. Kyle, who followed me home because he doesn’t trust the police to protect me.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” I’ve told him.
And I don’t. Why do I need protection against Jesse? He’s a fool. There’s no need for Kyle to be hanging around. I should tell him to leave and never come back.
But I don’t. I can’t.
There’s something that draws me to Kyle, I realize as I slowly gyrate my hips on his. His earnestness and his desire to protect, even his rough yet awkward exterior, they’re all part of the reason why I let him in last night, and why I allowed him to stay for my party tonight. Maybe they’re part of the reason why it annoyed me so much when Paige looked at Kyle like he was something she wanted when I was the one that wanted him first.
She saw what I saw first, his amazing muscles and strong arms. She wanted his body, which is exactly what I wanted when I first met him.
Now I just want him.
“I want to feel you,” I whisper to him. “Every part of you.”
“Fuck…” Kyle says in reply.
His hands grip my hips, and I can feel his erection, hard and weeping again. His body is tense beneath mine, and his breaths are panting in his throat. When I lay a hand over his chest, I can feel his frantically beating heart. He wants me just as much as I want him. He’s here, with me, because this is the place we both wanted to be.
“Do you want me?” I ask, thrusting my hips down against his.
“Fuck, yes, yes,” Kyle says, groaning underneath me.
I lift myself up on my knees, and he looks up at me. Our gazes connect, and I’m lost in the depths of his green eyes, which are so intense that I can’t tear myself away. His hands loosen on my hips and he gently guides me back so I can line myself up against him.
I slowly sink down on his erection. The tip breaches me, and my breath catches in my throat. This all somehow feels even more intimate than before. I can feel his body struggling, but he doesn’t move, waiting for me to do so first. I draw in a deep breath and push myself down, bit by bit, feeling his skin sliding against mine. I can feel every bump and line of him as he slowly enters me, and I almost sob when I’m sitting flush against his hips. It’s so overwhelming.
“Shit,” I moan. “This is so…”
I can’t even think of the words as my brain stumbles to a halt. His hands are still on me and, if I can concentrate, I can feel his callouses, feel the way they catch on my skin. My thighs clench and unclench, and there’s sweat on his brow as he forces himself to wait for me.
“Ready?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he groans. “Fucking go.”
I slide myself up, raising myself on my knees once more, and then back down. It’s slow and sensual, every part of me meeting every part of him. My eyes flutter at the feeling and I’m anchored only by the touch of his hands gripping my hips, guiding me.
He thrusts up to meet my hips circling downward, but it isn’t hard or rough, as though he’s understood what I want and is helping me. Or perhaps he wants it too, to feel the two of us together in a way that lets us feel everything.
I slide up and down. My legs are trembling, and violent sparks are crossing all over my body, but I’m not ready to give this up yet. I want to feel more. Kyle is trembling as well, but his hands are firm, even as I falter when we find my g-spot, pleasure rocking me. His erection is hard and swollen within me, as the walls within my vagina caress him, and I know neither of us is going to last much longer. We’re already too overwhelmed from before, our bodies tired and being forced through one last effort because neither of us wants to let go.
“Kyle…” I gasp.
His fingers tighten on my hips.
“What do you need?” he asks huskily.
I lean down to kiss him, thrusting down on his hips in a different position that makes us both groan, our breath mingling together as our tongues lazily dance.
“You,” I say against his lips.
He thrusts up into me, and my body jolts, warning me that we’re at the limit now. So I let go; it’s enough for now.
Our movements become jerkier as our thrusts speed up. We’re chasing, now, the pleasure that will rock us both, pushing us over the edge and into relief. I thrust downward and he thrusts up, our hips meeting each other. His erection hits my g-spot, and I can hear my own, ragged breath in my ears as I sob out each breath, needing and wanting and aching.
I think his name spills from my lips, but I can’t hear it over the rushing in my ears as I rut against him, barely strong enough to lift myself any longer. His hands tighten around my waist and he helps me. Then the walls of my vagina tighten and I feel a cry ripping from my throat as my world goes white once more.