My hands migrated. I let one drift around her neck again while the other headed south, rubbing circles around her clit.
She moaned with intensity again – I knew that a powerful orgasm was on the horizon if I kept this up.
“We don’t have much time,” she whispered.
“Hurry up, then,” I declared lustfully.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Come for me, Angel,’” I murmured into her ear. “Let yourself go on my cock.”
I could feel her begin to seize up, almost as if her body were simply waiting for my command. She went rigid, her arms stiffening against the wall as she did what I demanded.
What helped with that was that I picked up the pace. As soon as I realized she was close, I began jacking up the tempo, thrusting deep and powerfully into her.
As her pussy clamped down onto my erect tool, I felt her milk me dry. My orgasm rocketed into her, spurting several thick, hot ropes of my burning gift into her channel.
Or at least the rubber lining between us.
With deep, thirsty pants, I collapsed against her and the wall. Careful not to crush her, I steadied myself on either side, gulping down air.
“I don’t think I could ever get used to that,” she murmured.
“Good. Because we’re doing it again.”
“I…wait, what?”
“You heard me,” I told her, pushing her down over the bed and dragging her onto all fours. Removing and tying the condom, I set it aside and replaced it with a fresh one.
“We’re going to be exhausted enough as it is…”
“Spread ‘em,” I commanded impatiently.
A sexy smile crossed her face as she pushed her ankles further apart, and I pushed myself down into her wet, dripping chasm again…
After another amazing round of sex, we were curled up together in bed with spoonfuls of ice cream from the freezer – pretty much the only thing I had in the house. I’d turned the bedroom big-screen on, and some inane reality show was droning with the volume down.
Angel looked like she was on the verge of asking something, but holding back. I was about to directly ask her when she finally opened her mouth.
“Did you mean what you said, earlier?” She finally whispered.
I took another lick of my spoon.
“About what?”
“About staying here forever…being yours.”
“Of course I did,” I told her without skipping a beat. “I don’t say shit like that unless I mean it. You should learn to take me more seriously.”
“But we haven’t really known each other more than a couple of weeks…how can you possibly be sure?”
“Don’t be so critical,” I told her. “Trust me.”
Something seemed to dawn on her.
“You…you’re just going with this, aren’t you?” She asked, sitting up straight. “Just going with the flow? Do you actually care?”
“Of course I care,” I told her testily. “You’re mine. We established this. You belong to me. So I care about you and your well-being.”
She seemed uneasy.
“What is it?” I sighed.
“I get it now,” she bitterly replied, climbing out of the bed. “This is just your life, isn’t it?”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” I replied grumpily.
She was getting upset.
Why?
Haven’t I given her everything she wanted?
“What happens when you get bored of me, Trent?” She demanded to know, placing her bowl of half-finished ice cream on the end table. “What happens then?”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not going to get bored with you.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
“Drop it,” I demanded.
“I can’t drop it. I need to know.”
“Fine. You want it this way?” I ascended from the bed, rising up as a naked, angry stack of muscles and mounting irritation. “Kick the hornet’s nest, then. If you’re going to try and rile me up like this, then maybe I will get bored of you. This is where I come to relax between tours, or studio sessions, or practice jams. I’m tired. I don’t exactly need you fucking this all up for me.”
Angel bit back tears and grabbed her clothes, throwing on her shirt and panties before rushing from the room.
“Don’t you run from me,” I growled after her, but it was too late.
Fuck. Why?
What was the point of THAT?
Angrily, I threw my bedroom TV remote across the room. It broke apart against the wall, clattering uselessly to the floor as the batteries bounced away.
I glared at the television screen.
Two middle-aged bitches were fighting, and it kept cutting away to the overacted, stunned faces of a few people nearby – probably family members or friends.
There isn’t even anything decent on.
My ears pricked. I could hear a slight shuffle of her at the bottom of the stairs, and then silence permeated the house.
She’ll be back, I told myself angrily.
An hour passed without her return, and I decided to swallow my pride and walk back downstairs. As I descended the landing and flicked on a tableside lamp, I spotted Angel – curled up alone on the couch.
The size of my sectional only seemed to make her look even smaller, and for the first time since our argument I felt a pang of remorse.
“What are you doing down here?” I asked her.
“Leave me alone.”
I gazed towards the staircase. Up there was nothing but a wasted night without her company.
“Yeah…that’s not going to happen.”
Her shoulders bounced slightly, and as I approached her, she turned away.
I realized then that she had been crying.
“What was all of that, upstairs?” I asked her. “Where did any of that come from?”
Angel sniffled, still facing into the couch. She murmured something, but her positioning muffled the response.
“You’re going to have to try and run that one past me again,” I informed her. “Perhaps this time, you could face me. It would certainly help with the hearing.”
Angel reluctantly switched positions, rolling over to face me.
“I said, ‘You’re going to get rid of me.’”
I was almost furious.
Livid, that she would dare question me.
That she’d question my trust, my judgment.
But I could see Angel clearly, in that moment.
She wasn’t an insolent brat, begging for attention or throwing some sort of bullshit pity party.
She was scared.
“You don’t understand what this does to someone like me,” she clarified, studying my face as I relaxed. “You just swooped into my life and pulled me away from everything I hated. I never thought I’d really get out of there, away from that shithole town in the middle of nowhere…but then you came along.”
“You’re afraid,” I observed gently. “You’re scared that this will end, and you’ll wake up in that little room behind the bar.”
“This can’t be real, none of this,” she whimpered. “I can’t let myself believe it for a minute. When I do – when I give myself into it – it’s all going to leave me.”
“Angel,” I whispered tenderly.
“No,” she insisted, sitting up on the couch and rubbing her eyes. “You’ll get bored of me, or you’ll die, or something else will happen, and then I’ll have to go back to that horrible place…”