Chapter Four
Seth
Wednesday
Edie’s talk on Tuesday came and went with me buried balls deep inside Billie.
Since our first time, she’s relaxed and gotten more confident around me, aware that with a little clit action, either from her vibe or from her hands and mine, she can come—hard—and reliably, every time.
It’s amazing to watch her revel in the bounty of her body’s sensations, and it fills me with pride that I’m the one who gets to give her pleasure.
Every moment I spend with her makes me fall faster, sink deeper, lose more of my grip on common sense.
I feel like I’m in a dangerous land, without a compass, with no map to guide me, while terror mounts in the back of my mind—that I will never get out, that I’ll never recover, that I will never again be content by myself or with anyone else.
That there is nothing worth hoping for on the other side, on the reality end of this magical time with Billie.
Yet in the moment, I’m almost able to push aside the fear, to dismiss all the thoughts that make my throat close and my chest painfully tighten, because Billie rides me with joyous abandon, grinding her pelvis on the base of my cock, as I knead her firm little breasts, pinching and pulling at those caramel-candy nipples as her hips sway, her body greedily taking what it craves from me.
I’m not in danger of coming right away, so I focus on the dance of light and darkness on her curves as the late-afternoon sun peeks through a slit in the curtains.
“I’m ... so close, so close,” Billie pleads, her eyes closed, her lips parted. “But I can’t ... I can’t get there—”
“Let me help,” I say, sliding my flattened hand between our bodies to find her clit and rub it back and forth, how I know she likes it.
“Oh, God, that’s perfect,” she says, changing her movement from rocking to bouncing, her soft round hips and thick thighs making my mouth water as she bears down on my cock, over and over, and my fingers press against her pussy, giving her taut little clit what it needs.
“Seth ... this is so good... Oh God, oh God, oh God—” She bows away from me with a cry, impaling herself through the contractions, and my cock is really there for it, despite us having fucked several times already since last night, the cock is saying, Yes, I like Billie, I like her a lot, and never more so than when she leaps off in ecstasy, and I fuck her from below with as much force as I can while she rides her high, her long, anguished, pussy-shattering high, her head thrown back as her voice breaks in a desperate, heart-wrenching sob.
Sated and limp, she lowers herself on my chest. She’s sticky and breathless, and smells like skin and hours of combined sweat and cum.
It is that scent that knocks something loose—turns me insane, turns me ravenous.
I want to slash into her, claw at her flesh, I want to tear chunks of meat off her bones.
I want whatever gets me close to her essence, whatever gets me deeper, because she’s mine.
All. Fucking. Mine.
“I want to fuck you into a pulp, then lap you up like a fucking dog,” I growl into her hair as I dig into her neck and ass with full intent to bruise.
“Do it,” she whispers, hot breath wafting over my lips. “Rip me apart. Give me everything.”
I don’t give her a kiss, although it looks like one.
I give her teeth and tongue as I maul her to punish for all the wasted time she didn’t belong to me.
As my soul screams she’s mine, my nails savagely mark her with blooming crimson grooves across her pale spread thighs.
She whimpers beneath my hands, wet and pliable dough, while my teeth bite her throat, her arms, and her breasts.
I’m halfway crazed when I flip us over and drag us both to the edge of the bed. I plant my feet on the floor and reach to grab the vibe and the lube, while a dazed Billie lies slack, her legs spread, cunt gaped in offering, ass hanging halfway off the mattress.
I squirt a heavy dollop of the lube in my palm and spread it all over her pussy, pushing it inside her.
The amount is obscene, but in her slickness she glistens and I feel my mouth stretch into a sneer because I want her slippery wet, the wettest she’s ever been, for anyone, wetter than she’s ever imagined she could be.
Then I turn on the vibe, put it over her clit, place one of her hands over the toy, and cover it with mine. Billie blinks in confusion.
“This stays on until you come at least three more times. Do not fucking move it from there, do you understand?” I manage to squeeze the words through clenched teeth, the grovel foreign, channeling someone dominant, someone driven mad by lust and possession.
Someone that’s never been me. Someone that I’ve become.
Billie’s eyes widen as she nods, her nostrils fluttering because she likes this. She likes me skirting the fraying edges of reason because she made me so.
Then I grab one of her legs behind the knee and push it to her chest, thrusting into her with two fingers.
Billie cries, closing her eyes because I’m not gentle, and I work the bundle of nerves on her inner wall as she rocks her hips into my hand, ass hanging off the bed, my hand pushing against the back of her upturned thigh being the only thing that keeps her from sliding to the floor.
Before long, she moans and clenches around my fingers, and I grin. “That’s one.”
She struggles to catch her breath but doesn’t move the vibe, and I add a third finger.
It’s deliciously tight and Billie screams and swears, something like fuck and Seth and oh my God and I can’t, to which I say that she can, that of course she can, that she’s doing so well, and with that Billie comes hard and loud, a long unbroken shriek erupting from her throat, her spine arching off the bed, and her head is so far back she’s almost pressing its top into the mattress as her body stiffens in an ecstatic, quivering bow.
My hand is soaked and I feel like the king of the world. “That’s two,” I say with a smirk.
“Seth... You’re killing me...” Billie is winded and very red, her drenched hair stuck to her neck and face... “I don’t think I can... Anymore...”
But she doesn’t take the vibrator off.
“Good girl,” I say before I pull out my hand, soaked with her juices, and replace it with my cock.
I push against the backs of her thighs until both her knees are on her chest. The bed height is such that I can lean over on straight arms and drive into her with her ankles on my shoulders, and I thrust into her whimpering form, bottoming out.
“God, Seth ... this is almost too much.” Panting, she smiles. “Almost.”
I chuckle and give it to her even harder, the bed creaking with my thrusts, my bare feet struggling for purchase against the short, too-slick carpet, but I keep pushing into her, keep invading, keep trying to get to the center of her, through that hot swollen pussy, to where she’s trembling and wanting, needy and ready, to where she’s pulsing with heat, with desire, to where I can mark her in a way that no one will ever erase, because she’s mine, mine, mine and I will not stop, I cannot stop until she knows she belongs to me, too.
She tosses the vibe and replaces it with her fingers, and she rubs hard and fast with one hand as the other clutches me by the neck, and our faces are close, our noses touching, our breath the same breath, my sweat dripping on her as I rut, and I can feel her tightening, my own release suddenly rising, unbidden yet unstoppable.
“Billie, I’m coming,” I say lamely, because what does one say in a moment like this—except I love you, please don’t break me, you are everything, please love me, too—so instead you say you’re coming, because what the fuck else is there to say?
She nods and keeps nodding, keeps rubbing, keeps clutching, and then she tilts her hips up, quite the feat given how she has no space to move, but she lifts and stiffens and we fall over the edge together, eyes locked, the mix of bliss, terror, and affection in her gaze mirroring the emotions in mine.
****
In the aftermath, we lie awhile in silence, naked on top of covers, bodies doused and replete.
Her arm rests across my chest, and I trace squiggly lines on her forearm.
“I think I need to go to my room tonight,” Billie says.
“Why?”
“My talk is tomorrow. I should get a good night’s sleep before it. Do my hair, get ready.”
“You can do it tomorrow. We’ll set the alarm so you can leave early and get ready.”
She stiffens ever so slightly, but doesn’t say anything.
“Or I can bring my stuff and come with you.”
She remains quiet.
“Billie?”
“Mm?” She starts to draw lazy circles on my pecs.
“What happens after the conference?”
She lifts her head off my shoulder to look at me with questioning eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. What happens with us?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. I guess I go back to Raleigh and you go back to Philly.”
She might as well have slapped me.
She should’ve slapped me. It would have hurt less.
“Nothing?” I sit up in bed, and she withdraws her arm from my body, watching me warily. “Nothing? This is just a conference hookup for you and now we go back to our lives?”
She sits up, too, and crosses her arms. The closing-off signal is clear and, suddenly, I feel hopeless. As hopeless as I was years ago.
“It’s not just a conference hookup,” she says. “But it’s not like we planned this.”
There’s a note of something—regret? trepidation?— in her voice, and I can’t stand it. I cannot stand the thought of her regretting this. I need to get away from her wide, remorseful eyes that feel like serrated blades in my gut.
“So what if we didn’t plan it?” I get out of bed and stand before her, completely naked, trying to make my case with flailing arms like a pathetic, besotted fool. “It happened. And it’s good, Billie. It’s so good.”
Billie sighs and uncrosses her arms, folding her hands in her lap. She’s rumpled and vulnerable, and I know she’d feel soft and warm if I threw my arms around her. All I want is to hold her and never let her go.
“I know,” she says quietly. “I know it’s good.”
“So why do you say we just go back to how things were before?”
She throws her hands up in frustration. “What else can we do?” Her eyes are lost and beseeching, almost as if she’s being torn from the inside by the pull of potent, conflicting emotions. “We live in different cities, Seth. I’m not about to quit my job.”
“I would,” I reply without hesitation, my voice low but clear and steady. “I would quit my job to be with you.”
Her eyes widen in genuine shock, and I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she sees what I see—that we belong together.
She scoots toward the edge of the bed and sits with one foot tucked underneath the other thigh. The pose appears casual, but her fingers curl over the cusp of the mattress, her knuckles white with tension, belying the relaxed appearance of her body.
“Seth, we just spent a couple of days together. That’s not enough to turn our whole worlds upside down for one another. Maybe we could try and see each other long distance, if you want...”
Long. Distance. She wants long fucking distance.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” I spit out through gritted teeth, and she winces at how bitter I sound.
At how much anger seeps into my voice. “I’m not some stranger you just met, Billie.
I’ve known you for years. I’ve loved you for years.
You are it for me, do you understand that?
” My hand flies to my chest, on top of my tired, battered heart, and Billie’s eyes widen at the words and the gesture.
“And now that we finally got together and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, you just .
.. shrug? And say we go back to our respective fucking cities, like nothing happened? ”
“What do you want me to say?” She leaps off the bed and now we’re both standing—naked, fuming, incensed.
“I want you to say you want this”—I motion between her and me—“as much as I do. I want you to want to see where it goes.” I grab her by the shoulders. “I want you to love me as much as I love you.”
She freezes for a moment, then shakes my hands off her shoulders and steps aside.
“Fuck you, Seth,” she finally says, fury swirling in her eyes. “I was married for years. I spent my whole adult life twisting myself to make a man happy. I’m finally able to be on my own and breathe.”
She starts to pick up her things.
“Billie—”
“I’m definitely not going to uproot my life without a second thought. Not even for great sex. Not even for you.”
I run both hands through my hair. “I’m not asking you to uproot anything. I just want us to give this a real shot and see where it goes...”
She’s finished putting on her clothes and is now shoving her sex toys into her purse.
I grab her hand. “Billie—”
“I have to go.” She faces away from me, trying to yank the hand out of my grip.
“Billie, I get it. I do.” I hold her by the wrist, my voice cracking with emotion. “But I can’t lose you again. Not now that I’ve really had you.”
She turns back. There is an unspoken question in her eyes.
“I will move to Raleigh, “ I say. “There’s plenty of pharma there. I will get a job.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s a big career ask.”
“I don’t care. I will do it. I want to be close to you and give this a real shot.”
She pauses. “I can’t move in with you this soon. You have to understand.”
“I know. All I want is a real chance to see where this would go.”
She sighs, then glances at the floor. “I don’t know, Seth. I’d have to think about it.”
I take her into my arms and squeeze her tight. I’m still naked while she’s rumpled but completely dressed. It feels painfully fitting.
For a few moments, she is stiff in my arms, but then drops her purse and hugs me around the waist.
“I love you,” I cry. “I’ve loved you for years. You and I are meant to be together, and I want to do everything to make you happy. You just have to let me.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “You’re asking a lot of me. You might’ve lived with your feelings a long while, but they’re new to me.”
“So you have feelings for me?”
She scoffs. “Of course I have feelings for you.”
I want to press, but rein myself in and stay silent, a small flicker of hope igniting at my center.
“This is all a lot, Seth.” Billie sighs. “I need some space.” She twists out of my arms, picks up her purse, and leaves without looking back.