For Her (The Girl I Loved Duet 1)

God, she feels amazing, squeezing down onto me while she rocks. I don’t move, and because of that, her every move is intensified. Amber straightens and arches her back, riding me as hard as she can. I don’t mind. She circles and circles and moves back and forth, driving herself higher, and I hold on, tensing so that I don’t let go. I’m not done yet.

She cries out, loud in the room we’re in, and comes again, suddenly collapsing, and I wrap my arms around her while she finishes, hips still thrusting while she rides it out. Her lips press a kiss to the skin of my shoulder. “That’s two,” she says. “Good.”

I chuckle. “We’re not done.”

“No?” She raises her head to look at me, hair falling into her eyes.

“No.” I kiss her while I roll us to the side. It’s easier to pull her in and make out with her like this, so we’re tangled and I’m still inside her. These are some of my favorite moments, because I love being connected like this. I like I fill her, and that she lets me.

That’s all we do for a while, because I love to kiss her, and having her in my arms. And I’ve learned that she’s too sensitive and has to take a break sometimes. But she’s going to come again. I don’t know when we’re going to be able to have more time alone, so I need to make it count. Even if we are tempting fate by fucking at school. I don’t care.

“This was a very good idea,” I tell her.

“I know,” she grins, “I’m brilliant.”

“You are.” I reach between us, teasing her, and she arches into me.

“Mmm,” she says, “I like that.”

So I continue, giving her more of what she likes, kissing her until she’s breathless from both my fingers and lips and I feel when she comes, a soft shuddery climax that has her clenching down onto me. I make my move, rolling again so that I’m over her, driving into her quick and fast, catching the tail end of her orgasm and pushing her up into another one. It’s not until she shivers around me, moaning into my shoulder that I let myself go, giving into that bright flash of pleasure the streaks through me. It’s like being with Amber takes whatever pleasure I can give myself and magnifies it by ten. I never want it to end, and I try to live in that moment longer than that moment can exist.

We rest together, both trying to catch our breath. Amber raises an eyebrow. “Now are we done?”

“Only if you want to be,” I say.

She laughs. “Well, I do have rehearsal in a little bit.”

“Yeah, but I could think of a few things to do so we could fill that time.”

“I’m sure you could,” she says, pulling away and sitting up. “And I want to do those too, but I need to do some work on the new concept.”

“For your senior piece?”

Amber nods, looking around for her panties.

“Are you going to tell me what the concept is?”

“I will, but not yet. It’s not ready. I want to have a more solid idea of what I want before I show it to anyone, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” I say, pulling on my boxers. “As long as I’m your first,” I tease her.

She raises an eyebrow. “You will be,” but then she catches the joke. “Oh. Yeah.”

I grab my pants and shirt and pull them on while she’s jumping into her skinny jeans, and manage to grab her bra before she notices. Watching Amber dress is almost as great as watching her undress. Okay, that’s not true, but I love it all the same. Right now she’s hunting for the bra that I’m holding captive.

“Okay,” she says, exasperated. “Did you throw it somewhere?”

“No.” I’m grinning though. I have it tucked in the back of my shirt.

She sees my smile and her eyes narrow. “What did you do with it?”

“Nothing.” I lift up my hands to prove my innocence, and I can feel it start to slip.

She wraps her arms around me and pats me down, and I can’t help the smile on my face from the way her bare breasts are pressed up against me. Snatching it out of my shirt, she gives me a look that’s impossibly both annoyed and amused and puts the bra on.

I shrug as she slips her shirt over her head. “I just thought you looked better without it.”

“I know you do. But I can’t exactly go to rehearsal naked, can I?”

Slipping my finger into the loop of her jeans I catch her before she can turn to leave. “Depends on which rehearsal. Here? Probably not. Your house? Absolutely.”

Most of the time we spend the night together we stay at Amber’s house. Her parents are pretty great, and they would rather let me stay over than us have sex in a car, or so they told us when they sat us down and had the most uncomfortable conversation of both our lives.