Chapter 4 In Daylight #4
Her tits bounced with every drive. Sweat gathered at her throat. Her makeup had given up completely, and I loved her more wrecked than polished. I bent and sucked one nipple into my mouth while I kept fucking her, and she arched off the bed.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Fuck, yes, your mouth, your cock, all of it.”
I reached between us and found her clit.
Vina went tense under me.
“Already?” I asked.
“Shut up and do it right.”
There she was again.
I rubbed firm circles in time with my thrusts. Her pussy tightened around me in quick, uneven pulses, and the sound of us got filthy. Wet skin. Sheets. Breath. My cock sliding deep while my thumb worked her clit and her body opened, clenched, took, demanded.
“I’m close,” she said. “God, Nash, I’m so close.”
“I want to feel you come around me.”
“You will.” Her eyes flashed. “You better not come before I do.”
“I won’t.”
“Good boy.”
I laughed into her neck, then bit her just hard enough to make her gasp.
Her orgasm hit before the next joke could form.
Vina came hard, pussy clamping around my cock in hot, rolling spasms. Her cry tore through the quiet room. I kept my thumb on her clit and fucked her through it, slower now, deeper, making every pulse last until she was shaking under me.
When she went limp, I was barely holding on.
She knew it.
Her smile came back, dangerous and exhausted. “You’re close.”
“Yeah.”
“Then don't waste it.”
She shoved at my shoulder. “Turn me over.”
I did.
Vina rolled onto her stomach, then pushed herself up on her knees, ass high, hair spilling over the pillows. The sight almost broke me. She looked back over her shoulder, face flushed, eyes ruined, mouth curved like she still had the upper hand.
“Come on,” she said. “Show me how serious you are.”
I slid into her from behind in one deep stroke.
Vina cried out, hands fisting in the sheets.
The angle was devastating. Tighter. Deeper. Her pussy gripped me like it didn't want to let go, and I had to stop for half a second with my hands locked on her hips.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Deep,” she gasped. “So fucking deep.”
“You can take it.”
“I know I can.” She pushed back against me. “I want to.”
So I gave it to her.
I fucked her from behind, slow at first, then harder when her body begged for it.
My hand slid up her spine to the back of her neck, not forcing, just holding her there, keeping us connected while every stroke drove her forward into the sheets.
She moaned my name into the pillows. I reached around her hip and found her clit again, and her whole body bucked.
“Nash.”
“I’ve got you.”
“I'm going to come again.”
“Then come.”
“Inside,” she said, voice cracking before I could ask. “When you come, I want it inside. I want to feel you.”
That was it.
I leaned over her, chest against her back, my mouth at her ear, my hand still moving on her clit. “Then take it.”
Vina shattered.
Her pussy clenched down around me, hard and wet and rhythmic, milking my cock while her body shook beneath mine. I drove into her through the first wave, through the second, and when she cried my name again, I buried myself as deep as I could go and came inside her.
The release hit so hard my arms locked. My cock pulsed deep in her pussy, pumping cum into her in hot, heavy spurts while she kept clenching around me. Vina felt every throb. I knew she did because her head turned, her mouth open against the pillow, eyes wide and soft and stunned.
“Fuck,” she whispered as I kept emptying into her. “Nash.”
I held there until the last pulse left me, until both of us were trembling, sweat slick and breathless and ruined.
When I finally eased us down to the bed, I stayed inside her as long as I could. Vina collapsed under me, then rolled enough to pull me against her. My cock slipped free, and warm cum began to leak between her thighs, slicking the sheets beneath us.
She looked down, then back at me, lips parted.
“Messy,” she said.
“Yeah.”
Her smile was slow, dazed, and real. “Good.”
I kissed her shoulder and held her while the last aftershocks moved through both of us.
No audience. No phones. No crowd.
Just Vina, wrecked and warm in my arms, and the private answer she had asked me to give.
***
The room held the aftermath.
Sweat cooled on our skin. The sheets were damp and twisted beneath us. Vina's hair stuck to her throat and cheek, a red wreck against the white pillow. My cum was still leaking out of her, warm between her thighs, leaving a sticky mess on the sheets neither of us had the energy to pretend was neat.
Vina lay half on top of me, one leg thrown over mine, face tucked against my neck.
“Destroyed,” she murmured.
“You?”
“The bed. Luna is going to invoice us for emotional damages.”
I laughed, and she smiled against my skin.
Then she tried to move and sucked in a breath.
I was up before she could make a joke out of it. “Stay there.”
“Bossy after you fuck a girl senseless. Interesting brand.”
“Stay there,” I repeated, softer.
She looked at me then, and the joke thinned.
I went to the bathroom, ran warm water over two washcloths, and brought them back with a towel and two bottles of water from the mini-bar. Vina watched every step like she was still learning whether I came back after the heat was gone.
I sat on the edge of the bed and touched her knee.
“Let me.”
Her eyes flicked to the cloth, then to my face. “You don't have to do that.”
“I know.”
“That’s very boyfriend of you.”
“Good.”
Her mouth trembled around another joke that never landed.
I cleaned her gently, wiping my cum from her thighs and between her folds, careful with how swollen and sensitive she was.
Vina's hips shifted at the first touch, a tiny sound leaving her throat.
Not arousal, exactly. Too spent for that.
Something quieter. She kept her fingers around my wrist and didn't look away.
She caught my wrist and held on while I worked.
“Five stars,” she said, voice raspy. “Rosewater should put you on the amenity list.”
I glanced at her. “Complimentary post-sex care with every suite?”
“Very boutique.”
I smiled, but kept my hands steady. When she was clean, I wiped the sweat from her stomach and the inside of her thighs, then handed her water. She took it with shaking fingers and drank because I waited until she did.
“Bossy,” she said again.
“Alive,” I said. “Hydrated. Taken care of.”
That landed harder than I meant it to.
Vina looked down at the bottle. Her makeup was ruined, lashes clumped at the corners, mouth swollen from kissing and biting, cheeks flushed from sex and whatever she was trying not to feel. She had never looked less like a party weapon. She had never looked more like herself.
“You like me messy,” she said.
“I want you messy.”
Her eyes snapped to mine.
I didn't correct it. Didn't soften it. Didn't make it smaller than it was.
“I like you loud,” I said. “I like you filthy. I like you funny. I like when you walk into a room and make every man forget his name. I like when you get bossy and impossible and tell me exactly what you want.”
Her breath went shallow.
“And I like this too.” I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You tired. Shaking. Letting me clean you up. Letting me stay.”
Vina's eyes filled fast, and she looked away like she could outrun it if she aimed hard enough at the wall.
“No,” she said. “Don't do the sincere thing. I’m naked and compromised.”
“You're safe.”
She laughed once, broken. “That’s worse.”
I set the cloth aside and climbed back into bed with her. She came into my arms immediately, then seemed startled by herself for doing it.
“You're not a rumor,” I said into her hair.
Her fingers curled against my ribs.
“You're not a party trick. You're not a side piece. And you're not less serious because you like sex.”
Vina was very still.
Outside the balcony doors, the lake was black and quiet. The party had died somewhere below us. No bass. No phones. No crowd looking for a name to put on what they had seen.
Just us.
“I was supposed to be the fun one,” she whispered.
“You are fun.”
“The one who doesn't get complicated.”
“You were always complicated.”
She pulled back enough to glare at me, eyes wet. “Rude.”
“True.”
Her laugh caught. “I don't know what to do with this.”
“With what?”
“You. Kit texting like I belong. Luna giving us a room. You walking me through Rosewater like I was yours in a way everyone could see. This.” She gestured weakly at the sheets, the towels, the space between us. “You cleaning me up like I’m not something you used up.”
I took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I didn't use you.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked. “That's the problem.”
I held her then, no speech, no fix. Just my arm around her waist, her face pressed to my chest, her body slowly relaxing by degrees. She cried a little, silently at first, then with a shaky breath that made her curse under her breath.
“I hate crying after sex,” she said.
“You want me to pretend I don't see it?”
“No.” She sniffed, annoyed with herself. “I want you to be less good at this.”
“Can't help you.”
“Asshole.”
“Your asshole?”
She laughed into my chest. “Maybe.”
I pulled the sheet over us. Her skin was still warm, still sticky in places, but she fit against me like she had decided not to fight the shape for tonight.
After a while, her hand slid over my stomach, lazy and affectionate. “Tomorrow morning,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“You’re not going to be weird?”
“No.”
“Not going to act like I should sneak back to my cabin and put my party-girl face on before anyone notices?”
“No.”
She lifted her head. “What are you going to do?”
“Take you to breakfast.”
“With your family?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes searched mine. “In the morning.”
“In the morning.”
She swallowed. “That might be scarier than the sex.”
“I know.”
“Still doing it?”
“Yes.”
Vina looked at me for a long time. Then she nodded, tucked herself closer, and put her head back on my chest.
“Don't make me regret this,” she whispered.
“I won't.”
Her fingers laced through mine.