Page 90 of Run For Me
“And I… am fucking yours,” I growl out as I come, releasing all over her stomach and tank top.
She moans too, body moving beneath me, almost like she can feel my pleasure too.
When all the cum is drained from my dick, my head falls back on my shoulders, and I take a deep breath. I throw my leg over to get to my feet.
“You’re leaving?”
“Hell no,” I say, fixing my pants and kicking off my boots. I grab a towel from the bathroom to clean her up, then carefully spread her legs. “You have something that’s mine.”
She frowns, and I grip onto the edge of the panties and slowly tug on them.
“Oh, my—oh my god!” I hold them up for her to see. “That was inside me?”
I grin, even though she can’t see it.
All I can see is her gooey white cum all over these panties.
I go to the kitchen, find a storage bag and shove them inside. I leave them on the couch, and I’ll grab them before I go. For now, I’m going back to bed with her until she falls asleep.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Sailor
I cannot believe he shoved a pair of underwear inside me!
Of all the things he could have put in there, why those? I could ask, but I’m not sure I’d understand his explanation anyway. So when he comes back into my room, mask still on, I don’t bother.
This whole thing seems a little silly, doesn’t it? Him crawling into bed with me, mask on, so I don’t know what he looks like.
I’ve seen his whole body, and I’ve touched parts of it too. His abs were hot as hell in the picture he sent me, but now I’ve touched them. They’re real, and even hotter in person. I’ve never touched abs before. Never. And his are perfect. Tattooed, firm yet soft.
He settles behind me, pulling me against him. I wish he were naked and would stay here all night with me, but this isn’t that. We aren’t doing that sort of thing. This is just sex. Just fun. Just… a lot of saying and doing things we don’t mean, I guess.
“Can I talk to you about something?” I ask.
“Always,” he answers back quietly, his thumb brushing along my hand.
In this position, with him holding me from behind, he feels bigger. And I feel safe. So safe.
“I’m worried about school.”
“What about it?”
“Mid terms should not have been that stressful,” I say. “I started back at school because it’s what my family wanted, and I’m worried that I’m getting overwhelmed. That I’m… not using my time properly.”
He hums a sound of acknowledgment.
“I’m worried I’m letting this get in the way of my education,” I say, noting it was easier than I thought it would be.
He freezes behind me, and then says, “Are you saying you want to stop this?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I thought that was the answer at first, but I don’t want to. But I… need more boundaries or something.”
“More rules?” he suggests.
“Maybe.”
“Like studying more. Not staying up so late.”
