“You are a greedy thing, aren’t you?” He shoves into me—hard—and I cry out. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes!”
“More of that?” He pulls out almost entirely, then drives into me again.
“Yes! Yes! Oh, God!”
He slides his hands under my arms and around my shoulders, increasing his leverage before he slams into me over and over again. I can barely keep my grip on his shoulders. As hard and fast as the motion is, it seems as if it should feel violent, but it doesn’t. Our bodies move in a perfect frenzy, and it’s positively incredible.
The rush starts with that warm tingle deep in my core, then spreads down my thighs and up into my stomach, my breasts, my arms, my very being. My muscles flex involuntarily, and my grip around his shoulders and hips increases in intensity as my mouth opens, my eyes close, and a nearly inhuman cry forms on my lips.
My grip around his hips falters, and my legs drop to the bed, but he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace increases. His hot breath coats my skin as I try to hang onto his arms as my body wants to just slump into a heap of post-coital bliss.
Soon after, as my arms begin to ache with the strain of holding on, Nate stiffens. He lets out a low groan that vaguely resembles my name, and I feel his come inside of me, coating me with warm fluids. He holds himself there, pressed hard against my body, his fingers tightly gripping my shoulders.
A brief moment of panic sets in as I try to remember how long it’s been since my last period. Three weeks? Was that long enough?
Too late now.
I swallow hard but don’t say anything. I also don’t let go, and Nate doesn’t pull out. Instead, he collapses on top of me, still breathing hard. I hug him tighter and feel his lips press against my throat before he pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks down at me.
I can’t understand his expression. His eyes are intense, but he also looks confused. He licks his lips, opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again. His neck bobs as he swallows.
I slide my hand from his shoulder to the side of his face, unsure of what to say. For a long moment, we just look at each other, and then Nate finally smiles.
“I have no words, I guess,” he says, grinning.
“I don’t seem to have any either.” I smile back at him, and he presses his lips to mine.
I feel him slip out of me, and he grimaces slightly. With a long sigh, he shifts his body so he’s mostly lying next to me though his leg and arm are still wrapped around my body. I turn to look at him, my hand moving to his hip.
He caresses me from shoulder to hip to thigh and then back again, watching the movements of his hand as he does.
“This is a really nice quilt,” he finally says, and I can’t help but snicker a little.
“My neighbor made it.”
“The one across the hall?”
“Yes. Jessie.”
“I hope I didn’t stain it.” He winks, clearly not concerned about the fact that we hadn’t used protection. Then again, he could be assuming I’m on the pill, which I’m not, and I wonder if I should say something.
Before I can consider a response, I hear Nate’s phone ding from the other room.
“Ugh,” he mutters and grits his teeth. “I should probably go check that.”
“It’s okay,” I say. A sticky, uncomfortable feeling manifests itself between my legs. “I have to go to the bathroom anyway.”
He rolls off of me, and I wrap the sheet around me before running off to the bathroom. I can hear Nate cursing from the other room as I clean myself up and try not to think about when my next period should start.
“I’m sorry,” he says when I return. “I have to go.”
“Business?”
“Apparently.” He’s still gritting his teeth.
“At this time of night?”