Page 12 of It Never Was

"Yeah," I stutter. He is filling me up, circling his hips into me.

He starts to pull out of me, slamming back deep and hard. His pace is picking up. The sound of skin hitting skin.

"Then say my name." His voice is authoritative.

I try to catch my breath as his thumb starts to circle my clit intensely. He lets out a deep groan as my muscles squeeze around his length.

"Say my fucking name, Ryen." He orders.

Rolling deeper into me, his thumb not giving me any mercy as it works tantalizing circles. I twitch under him, my lust building so high. I moaned out, releasing my breath only to catch the next one in my throat, stopping me from giving him what he demanded of me. He easily flips me over on all fours. Arching my back, I push myself towards him, and he thrusts into me with one hand on my hip gripping me to him. The other is pressing on my back bending me to his will, letting him have a full view as his dick glides in and out of me. The sound of his skin smacking against me makes me wetter. Rubbing his hand down my back following the grooves of my spine, his fingers intertwine in my hair, grabbing a handful right at the nape of my neck. He pulls hard; my head jerks up, and I whimper as his grasp on my hair tightens. Heat rises through my body, arousal flooding my insides.

"Say. It," he growls through his teeth, slamming another hard thrust into me.

My head becomes dizzy, and the swell feels like it's about to come undone. Fuck, I'm right at the cusp! My heart beats out of my chest as I edge closer. My breath catches in my throat.

I can't speak.

He slows his thrust to barely a movement. I whimper at the loss of friction.

"Devon…" I moan out as I breathe, trying to control my shaking legs. "Don't stop!"

"There it is," his voice breathes out husky and deep. He slaps my ass, leaving a sting behind, and the sting only makes me quiver more.

Devon thrusts deeply three times then starts to buckle as he gets closer to coming inside me. Strengthening his grip on my hair, a deep groan escapes his throat.

No! Wait!

"God…baby," he says as the pulse of his dick grows.

He is about to come. I push my hips down, circling them on him trying to come undone along with him. I feel the warmth as he spills inside the condom. His hand releases from my hair, to rest on my hip as I still tremble softly. The pulsing of his cock stops, and he pulls himself out of me. I lay on the sheet breathing hard, staring at the ceiling as my body aches with the need to release the tension Devon just created in me.

He looks down at me as he gets up from the mattress making his way to the trash can by my desk. "Next time. Don't make me worry. Then I'll let you come."

After he throws away the condom, he cleans himself off with a towel that is hanging from my desk chair before making his way back to bed. Lying next to me I absentmindedly scoot closer to him. His warmth is intoxicating, even more with the ache I feel between my legs. Wrapping me up in his arms, he kisses me on the back of my head.

I breathe out as my eyelids close, taking in his hold on me, trying not to think about what he just did.

A chill runs up, my body waking me. I roll over to get closer to Devon, wanting to engulf myself in his warmth again. But I am met with nothing but empty sheets and pillows.

When did he leave?

I grab my phone to check the time and see I have a text from him sent at 12:23 am. It is now 2:07 am.

Devon: Thanks for making it up to me

I fall back on the bed, wishing he was still here. I am off today and don't have class till noon. I should sleep in for once. I curl up to the pillow that Devon was using and try to fall back asleep, his scent helping me relax.

5

Ryen

The morning sun shines through my window blinding me as I wake up. I can hear shuffling coming from downstairs. I grab a pair of sweats hanging over my laundry basket and a large shirt that Devon left in my room a while back. The sounds grow louder, echoing up the staircase as I approach them.

Mom. She must have just rolled in from last night's escapades.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I can see she is halfway on the couch with her head resting on the cushion. Her dark brown hair is messy and matted, her face is shining with sweat, and her other hand is holding a pack of cigarettes. I lean my side on the hall wall, focusing my eyes on her chest to see if it is moving.

Yes, she is breathing.

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