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He lets go of my bottom so he can sign,What?

“You were looking at me weird.”

I was?

“Yes. Like… like…”

Like what?

“I don’t know. Like you see something in me that’s not really there.” I flush as I mumble out the words, wondering why I even brought the topic up. We’re in the middle of sex. His cock is penetrating me fully. This isn’t the time for deep, awkward conversations.

I see you. He makes the gesture again to emphasize it.You.

I gulp. I don’t know why his simple claim makes me nervous, but it does. To distract myself, I start to ride him, using my thighs to lift my hips up and down until I’ve established a fast rhythm.

Deck is with me. He can’t thrust all that well from his seated position, but he does what he can, rocking up his pelvis every time I push down on him.

I can’t come from penetration alone, so I slide a hand between us to rub my clit as we fuck. I whimper as the pressure generates shock waves of pleasure, combining with the deeper stimulation of his cock inside me.

Since he’s stopped signing, he’s holding my butt with both hands again, guiding my motion, keeping me from going at it so hard that his cock slips out of my wet pussy.

The restraint of his holding me in place is irrationally pleasing. Freeing. I can let myself go completely because I know he’s not going to let go. My gasps and whimpers turn into steady, choppy bursts of sound as I build up toward orgasm.

His eyes never leave my face. He’s watching me the whole time.Seeingme. Exactly as he said.

This fact changes things. Shifts the significance of the way we’re moving together. Deepens it.

So the feelings in my chest are swelling as powerfully as my orgasm when I reach climax and cry out, barely remembering to muffle the volume by leaning forward and pressing my mouth against his shoulder.

He holds me as I writhe and jerk through the spasms of release. When I’ve come back to my senses, I straighten up, smiling at him and wiping the saliva off his shoulder with my fingers.

Deck is flushed and sweating and tense, so I lean backward so he can let go of his restraint too, thrusting into me as he works up to his own climax. Just before he reaches it, I pull off him, fold his cock between our bodies, and let him draw me close so he’s trapped tightly between us. He jerks through the last of his thrusts, breathing raggedly until he comes with a long shudder and a hoarse, wordless moan.

He never speaks with his voice. I doubt he ever will again. But he does make real sounds when we have sex, and I love it—like the vocalizations are wrenched out of him because he’s feeling so much.

When his hips have grown still, I collapse forward onto his chest. He holds me, and I don’t even care that his ejaculate is smeared between us on our bare skin.

We stay in place for a few minutes, until he finally shifts slightly.

He’s sitting on the floor. He’s probably uncomfortable.And I can’t stay on top of him like this forever just because it’s the safest I’ve ever felt in my life.

I smile as I climb off him.

He smiles too, looking sated and deeply relaxed. He grabs my face and pulls me into a short kiss before he hauls his big body to his feet.

We both get dressed after that. The sun is up, and it’s time to start the day.

16

The afternoon iswarm and humid, and Burgundy and I get hot and sweaty working in the stockroom, sorting out the remaining food and supplies.

Once it’s all organized, it’s quite clear we have less than a week left of provisions.

We’re going to have to leave soon.

After two months here—feeling secure, feeling comfortable, even enjoying myself—I hate the idea of getting back on the road and facing who knows what danger along the way.

Burgundy suggests washing up in the creek after we finish working, and I immediately agree. I’d like to cool down and get clean, and I could also use the distraction since the idea of leaving this house soon is bringing me down.

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