Chapter Fifteen #2
I pull my knees up and rest my chin on them.
I turn my head and look away, unable to handle seeing his too understanding face.
“I found out,” I take a deep breath fortifying myself before speaking again, “Carter,” I breathe.
“He used to record us having sex. Pictures and videos and even voice recordings. Some of them I knew about, but most of them I didn’t and I wouldn’t know it was happening.
I only found out about it when I went through his phone after I found out he was cheating on me.
And now I can’t relax. I can’t do anything without being paranoid that I'm being recorded. Sometimes even when I’m here by myself I’m worried that he’s watching me somehow.
” I take another breath and continue, “I’m afraid of it happening again.
I don’t think I could survive it twice, I’m not exaggerating. ”
“I would never–”
“–I know. Will, I know you wouldn’t. But I didn’t think he would either. He was my boyfriend of a year, I trusted him, too.”
It feels like forever passes in a heavy silence where neither of us speaks before Will breaks the silence by clearing his throat. “Maybe we should talk about some things?”
“Okay.”
“Besides the being recorded part, is there anything else I need to know?”
My eyes focus on the corner of the room while I ponder his question, “Yes. Nothing degrading. Like no names or mean comments about my body. And nothing from behind. I don’t think I’ll be able to relax if I can’t see you.”
Will reaches out, knitting his fingers together with mine between our bodies, “Okay, none of those will be a problem for me.”
We look at each other for a few seconds and then, I don’t know why, but I start to giggle.
This whole scenario is absolutely ridiculous.
Will coming over to my apartment in the middle of the night after his team just lost a hockey game that I haven’t even asked about to have sex with me?
I can’t explain it, but all of it makes me laugh.
Will grips my sides and bodily maneuvers me until I'm sprawled over him, knees resting on either side of his hips. He’s still extremely hard, dick flexing against me as I rest my weight over him.
“What’s so funny, huh?” He pinches my sides, tickling me, forcing me to let out a rather embarrassingly high pitched sound.
I swat at him, attempting to bat his hands away, but he keeps finding other places to tickle me.
I finally get hold of one of his wrists and manage to pin his arm above his head.
Granted, he’s not really fighting me too hard about it, which I can appreciate.
I grip his other wrist and pin it above his head too.
In this position, I’m straddling his abs more than his dick, leaning forward, dangling my tits in his face.
I let my chin drop, mingling my breath with his–we’re mere centimeters apart. He lifts his neck up, straining to get closer to me; I pull my head back, just slightly, teasing him in a way that feels very characteristic of Old Kenny.
The way he’s looking at me is making my skin prickle, making me feel bold and reckless.
A small kernel of doubt creeps into the back of my head, but I remind myself that I physically watched him put his watch and phone away.
Behind a closed door, I tell myself, soothing that anxious piece of me and choosing to instead focus on the man I’ve got pinned beneath me.
All the times I imagined Will and I hooking up, I never imagined him like this: a deep flush across his usually-perfect-unblemished skin, giving me pleading fuck-me eyes.
“You want me to kiss you?” I taunt with a low whisper, running my lips in a featherlight touch over the side of his scruffed jaw.
He nods his head, “Yes.” He sounds tortured and desperate.
Under my palms, I can feel the tension in his arms coiling, like he’s fighting against himself to remain underneath me as I press my lips to his.
I uncurl my fingers from his wrists and pull my hands back, shuffling down his body, resting my hands on either side of his head in a reverse deja vu from minutes ago before taking his lips again.
He grunts, banding both of his muscular arms across my back, fixing my body to his.
Rolling my hips over him, he lets out a strangled sound.
His tongue swipes against mine, fingertips pressing into my skin, thumb just barely grazing the edge of my tanktop near my hip. Waiting for my go ahead.
“Take my clothes off,” I say against his lips, heady power coursing through me.
He does not need to be told twice.
He tears at my clothes with an unabashed eagerness before ridding himself of the rest of his clothes too, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor.
He scoots backward until his back bumps against the headboard, legs spread, cock resting on his belly.
His cock is thick and long, with a bead of precome at the tip.
He strokes himself once, drawing my eyes to where his hand is wrapped around his shaft.
“Of course your dick is gorgeous,” I say.
How is one person that good looking? It's not normal.
His face flushes deeper, chest heaving, flashing me a radiant smile that literally makes me nervous. “I can say with honesty that’s the first time anyone has ever told me my dick was gorgeous,” he says, pulling me forward by the elbows so that I’m kneeling between his spread thighs.
“I don’t know why. You have literally the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen,” I say, wrapping my hand around his base.
Will makes a tortured sound, a hand shooting out to cover mine, urging me to grip just a little tighter.
I pump him once before he guides my hand up to his mouth spitting into my palm.
With his hand still wrapped around mine, he spreads the moisture up and down his shaft.
And then I start to stroke him in earnest, twisting at the tip, exploring him and what he likes.
His eyes are closed, head thrown back in wonderful agony.
I need to be closer to him. I straddle one of his massive thighs, one hand pumping his cock, the other resting on his chest so I can grind my clit against him. Both of his hands are on me, pulling and tugging on my nipples.
“Oh my fucking God,” he grunts when I lean forward, latching onto his collar bone and start sucking, hard. One hand leaves my breast and covers the hand I have wrapped around his length, stilling me. “Wait. Pause,” he gasps in a breath, “just gimme a second. I don’t want to come yet.”
I stop my ministrations and scoot just a fraction closer to him, secretly satisfied with the red mark the size of a dime blooming over his skin right where I was kissing him.
He lifts me up by the waist until I’m fully straddling him, legs spread open around both of his, exposed entirely to him, his cock bobbing between us.
I guide one of his hands to my center. Sighing when he presses his thumb over the apex of my pussy, strumming over my clit for a few seconds before pushing his middle finger inside me, grinding the heel of his palm into my clit. “You’re so wet for me.”
“That feels really good.” I start moving against him, searching for my own pleasure, undulating my hips when he adds a second thick finger.
I’m already getting close so I reach between us and start stroking him again, pumping with both hands in time with every thrust of my hips against his fingers, an imitation of riding his cock. Wanting us to finish at the same time.
His free hand cups my breast, squeezing and teasing my nipple.
“These,” he lightly tugs on my piercing, “are so fucking cute.” He moves to my other breast. “These pink little gems,” he says, sounding tortured, making me flush with the compliment.
He leans forward and sucks my nipple into his mouth, moaning into my skin.
I palm the back of his head, holding him to my breast, continuing to pump his cock between our bodies.
He grunts, bucking up, pushing further into my grasp.
The image of him like that, so deliciously desperate, is all it takes for me to tumble over the edge.
Stars dance across my vision, waves of pleasure crash over me, my pussy clenching and pulsing around his fingers, the heel of his palm pressed against my clit, dragging out the orgasm with every roll of my hips.
As if my climax sets off his own, Will’s breathing stops, hips shuttling up, as he comes all over my hands and his belly.