Any second, I expect them to open the door.
Any second now…
It doesn’t happen.
Nothing happens.
They keep walking, whoever they are. They laugh and talk, and their footsteps recede. They were just passing by. That’s when I remember the stairs by my room. They were probably headed to them. Not to me.
For a second, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we’ve been given a reprieve. That we got lucky again. It’s okay. We’re safe.
We can do this.
He can fuck me, and I can fuck him, and no one has to know. Not tonight. Not right now.
Through my tears, I’m beginning to smile when Simon moves away from me. The pressure of his heavy chest easing off my breasts makes me hiss. It makes my nipples tingle.
Unlike me, Simon isn’t happy. He’s mad and he palms my ass and heaves my thighs over his waist. That shock of a movement makes me lose my breath. It also makes me grind my clit on his pelvis.
“This is fucking insane,” he thunders, and letting go of my butt, he clutches my face. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we’d gotten caught?”
I grab his wrists, tears still streaming down my face. “I would’ve taken all the blame.”
He pumps his cock into me, jerking me up the wall, and my mouth falls open on a silent moan. “No. I’m to blame. Me. I’m fucking you, aren’t I?” Another vicious jolt of his hips. “It’s me inside you.”
“Yes. B-but I… I can’t… If they…” I sob, almost bursting with pleasure and all these pent-up emotions and adrenaline.
It’s embarrassing. The way I’m crying and moaning. But I can’t help myself. It’s like I’m jam-packed with every little thing that I can feel. Every little thing a girl can possibly feel during her first time, and I don’t know what to do about that other than expel it through my sounds and the water in my eyes.
He gets it, this man. Who’s claiming every inch of me with his dick.
“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here…”
Simon breathes over my mouth, shushing me, all the while grinding his hips into my clit as if digging out my juices from the furthest corners of my body, my soul. He drinks down my tears, licks them up as he pumps into me, slowly replacing my bursting emotions with himself, his reassurances, his presence, his cock.
My body goes loose, my thighs slipping off his waist as my heart hammers in my chest, but he pulls me up. He doesn’t let me fall and he doesn’t stop fucking me.
His deep, deep thrusts make my body jiggle. My tits bounce and I’m getting closer and closer to climaxing. His legs are bent, and his thighs hit my ass with every thrust. I hear a slight slapping sound every time he bottoms out, and even though it’s loud, I can’t fault him for that.
Those sounds let me know that a part of him is inside me. Those sounds let me know that he’s fucking me like I wanted him to and we’re shaking this entire castle – this psych ward slash the Victorian monument of love – with our passion, our lust.
Simon catches my mouth in a kiss. And it’s as if I was waiting for exactly this because I fall apart. Once again. Though this time he’s inside me and I feel my channel clenching over his rod. I feel his chest breathing against mine. I feel his heartbeat.
And then I feel him come.
I feel him pulsating for a second before he pulls out and comes on my pussy. He paints my curls with his cream and that makes me come some more, slumped against him.
His stomach clenches with every splatter of his cock and he groans, gripping the base of it, slapping it against my slit, making me writhe with the residual tingles.
When the storm passes and he stops coming, I hug him like he’ll disappear.
“Please, please don’t say it,” I whisper in his ear.
“Don’t say what?”
His whispers sound tired and lazy, making me want to shower him with kisses. “Don’t say it was a mistake. Please.”
He goes all tight and stiff and I’m sure he’s going to say it nonetheless, breaking my overly-emotional heart. But all that comes out of his mouth is, “I won’t.”
I thought that would be a relief, but it isn’t. It only means that he won’t say it, but he’ll think it. My heart squeezes painfully, as he moves and carries me to the bed.
He lays me down like he did yesterday. But unlike last night, there’s a lot more damage that we’ve done. His shirt is half undone; I can see the outline of his muscular chest, those springy dark hairs that make me bite my lip. His cock is half-mast and peeking through the zipper of his pants.