Page 34 of Wreckage of Me
“Nice, huh?” he finally says, the sound vibrating against my ear as I’m tucked into his body, with my head under his chin.
“Very,” I giggle like it’s the funniest thing ever. But it comes out like a nervous kind of laugh. Like I’m a stupid teenager.
His arms are still not letting go of me, if anything, he’s squeezing me tighter yet. And he’s still inside of me, I realize with a start. My lower muscles clench a bit, feeling his cock jump even though it is mostly soft by now.
“Hopefullynicer,” he emphasizes the word like he’s trying to bring a point home, “than what you get from Number One.”
Ah, I get it. He’s not happy that I made him Number Two. I did that out of malice because I definitely do not have a Number One. But I’ll freakin’ get one, just out of spite, if he pisses me off and he thinks I won’t just because he came to me to use me as a booty call.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I smirk into his chest, knowing he can’t see me. I don’t care that I poke the bear. Who does he think he is, coming here, fucking me into oblivion after I haven’t seen or heard from him in six months, then acting like my sex life is any of his business? Not to mention the way things ended between us. I haven’t forgiven or forgotten. Not sure I will anytime soon.
“Good,” he responds to me now, acting like it’s the most normal thing in the universe. “Since I’ll be the only man you’ll be fucking from now on, I’m happy to hear you don’t discuss it with others.”
“You’ll bewhat?” I push myself up, almost hitting him in the chin with my head.
“The only man you’ll be fucking from now on,” he speaks slowly like I’m dense.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now, Dylan?” I slap both hands against his chest, and if we weren’t both sitting in the back of my car right now, I’m sure I would’ve forced him to take a couple of steps back.
“Areyou?” he deadpans, raising an annoying eyebrow my way.
“Last time I saw you, youbraggedto me, Dylan,” I now slap a hand over my own chest, annoyed to all hell when I realize that my breasts are out on display. I pull my bra up until they’re covered, then my top and scrubs down to cover up all the way to my waist, in spite of the fact that he is still inside of me. And he’s getting hard now. That annoys me even more for some illogical reason. “You bragged to me,” I pick up where I left off, “about all the, the, the…” I’m stuttering now, so aggravated with the entire situation. “The whores you were fucking while you were also fucking me,” I finally spit out. “And now you have the nerve to tell me that you’ll be the only man I’ll be fucking from now on?”
I have completely lost it and I’m screaming in his face as I say all this. His cock is getting harder the more I speak, and I hate him even more because of that.
“Doyouhave the nerve to tellme,” he challenges me, “that you’ll be fucking other men, whilemycock…” He pauses just enough to push his hips up into me, making me groan in fury and pleasure when he’s swollen enough to make my sensitive inner tissue feel everything. “Is still inside of you?” He brings his face closer to mine now, showing his teeth, looking like a feral animal on the prowl.
“Yes,” I growl back, unable to stop myself. “I do!” I scream it louder when he grinds me down on him, then brings one thumb down and applies pressure on my clit, making me see stars.
“Fuck. That. Shit.” He punctuates each word with a pinch of my clit, each one a little harder than the one before.
All of a sudden, it all feels like too much. I am so wet, I feel it gushing out of me, down my thigh and onto Dylan’s leg. I can’t tell if I feel grossed out or turned on by it.
When I feel the walls of my pussy spasming around him, I go with turned on. Why is this so hot? Why is anything that he does to me this hot? I don’t understand…
That’s the last thought I have before I lose it all together. I think I say something as I come, but I have no idea what I mumble. I just drop my forehead back down on his shoulder, trying to recover, listening to Dylan grunting his way out of this one round of excessive fucking.
Long moments pass, with me refusing to lift my head off his shoulder, and him just rubbing my back, his hand going up and down, over and over again, in a hypnotic move. I regret not having taken off the top of my scrubs and the t-shirt I wore underneath. I need to feel his hands on my bare skin.
The thought makes me sad all of a sudden. We are not in any position to have this type of intimacy between us. For all I know, he escaped from prison, then came and hid in my car. So now I’m harboring a fugitive. Good God.
“You okay?” his tender voice takes me by surprise. He’s still inside of me, and he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to remove himself anytime soon.
“I…” I start pushing myself up a little, and he finally slips out.
“Fuck, that’s cold,” he chuckles, making me laugh, too. The cold air hitting my private area makes me feel every drip of his cum that’s running out of me. And speaking of that.
“Shit,” I whisper, mostly to myself but he hears me.
“What’s wrong? You okay?” I hate how worried he sounds, like he actually cares.
I also hate the way my voice trembles when I talk. “We didn’t use a condom.”
“I’m clean,” he rushes to say, his deep voice doing so many things to me that shouldn’t happen right now. At all. I got no business wanting this man as much as I do.
“Are you also immunized against reproducing?” I snarl at him out of nowhere.
“What the hell does that mean?” I’d laugh at the obvious confusion on his face if we weren’t in this shit show that we’re in.
