Chapter 24 #3
“Yes. Keep going,” I encourage him, arching my back and tilting my pelvis forward. I raise one leg in the air and Ford’s fist closes around my cock enthusiastically. Maybe a little too enthusiastically.
God, no.
No, no. Too soon.
I sink my fingers into his leg and close my knees, babbling. “You’ll make me…”
Ford presses a smile into my shoulder and I whimper in exasperation. He will drive me crazy. I push him and his stupid leg away and rummage in the bedside drawer for a condom.
Having Ford inside me is maddening. He’s gentle and rough, silly and zealous. I’m trying my best to look at him, neck twisted and aching. His chest is flushed, his red curls are sticking to his neck and his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. He’s perfect. He’s always been perfect.
I’m desperately trying to keep up with his thrusts and there’s this deep line between Ford’s brows, a line that tells me he’s thinking too much.
With some effort I reach for his face and pull him closer to kiss him.
It’s sloppier than intended and I suck his tongue into my mouth.
Filthy, filthy Ash. I can never control myself.
I should calm down, give Ford space to breathe and process.
Instead, I relax my hips and hook a hand under my knee.
My foot points to the ceiling and then Ford is thrusting deeper, dick thick and hot and wet inside of me.
But there’s something. Something icky. Something plasticky.
I hate it. Ford is hitting all the right places, yet I want… I need…
Keeping his mouth on mine, Ford slides out of me. I groan and I’m about to protest but then Ford is pushing bare back inside of me and it’s skin against skin. No condom. I exhale and hold my leg up higher, clutching my sac in my hand to stop myself from coming.
Not yet.
“Fuck.” The curse escapes my lips and I know exactly the effect it has on Ford. He grasps my neck and with the new angle, I get to stare into his pretty eyes.
“Sorry, I needed to… I needed this. I need you… Ash, uh, Jesus fuck.”
I smirk, because what else am I supposed to do?
Ford chases his orgasm like he chases his dreams: concentrated and focused on the goal, until he’s so close he cannot believe his luck.
He cannot keep still, he wraps a hand around me and I’m absolutely gone.
Ford is right with me. He spills inside of me and I clench around him, trapping him inside and then, finally, I release him.
Drops of cum spill out and down my leg and I push more, fighting the discomfort.
Content, I close my eyes and lower my foot on the mattress, closing a cramping hand into a fist.
Behind me Ford stills, sweaty and salty.
"What?" I blink, knowing when he has something on his mind. I turn to look at him.
"I was just wondering…" Ford’s cheeks turn an unusual pink and he bends his head down, avoiding my gaze.
"Yes?"
Matching dimples appear on either side of Ford’s mouth and I fear I won’t ever be able to look away again.
"Can I stay inside of you? Just a lil’ bit."
The words knock the air out of my lungs. I search for Ford’s eyes and I know in an instant what he means.
I’m transported back to the first time he had asked, shy smile and unsure brows. We’d been dating for a couple of months and one night after showering and getting ready to sleep I was asked to stay naked.
“I want to feel you,” Ford had said. “I want to be with you.”
“I’m right here,” I had answered.
But Ford had insisted, “I need more.”
Studying him now, I’m torn. Doing this with him will break me, I just know. And I don’t mean just my arse. This will tear down all of my remaining walls and leave me naked. Limping, in the morning.
But there’s no way I can deny Ford anything. So I agree to break my own rules of self-preservation and do something that, before the accident, belonged to our most intimate routine.
Reaching one hand down I grab for him and give him a couple of pumps, just enough to make him hard again. Locking our stares, I raise a leg slightly. With a warm, shaking hand, I guide Ford back inside of me, ignoring the pain. My muscles tense at the sensation.
Entranced, I watch as his eyes sparkle in acknowledgment, an expression of both comfort and surprise that I recognise very well.
Scared of what this moment of déjà vu will bring, I pull on Ford’s arm until his body is almost covering mine and then I hide my head in the pillow. My body feels immediately heavy.
For the longest time, Ford is still and I worry he’s either about to have a panic attack or fall asleep. Then finally, Ford closes his arms around me and adjusts himself, moving his hips slightly.
“It’s okay,” he says quietly.
And just then, I realise tears are spilling down my face. I wipe my nose and hold onto Ford’s forearm tightly. Then, I angle my hips upwards and the angle is a delicious one.
But this was never just sexual. This is to feel the other closer, to communicate unspeakable things, to remind the other I am yours.
“We’ve done this before, haven’t we?” Ford wonders later in a sleepy voice and I startle, thinking he was already asleep. My arse hurts and it’s a sticky mess and I almost hate it. If only I didn’t love it so much.
“Yes,” I reply.
But he doesn’t need confirmation. Ford remembers. I know he does.