Page 32 of Stitch
“Harder, Stitch, please. Faster. No more dragging it out. I need you to fuck me hard.”
God, I loved that low chuckle of his, it seemed to vibrate through me, andthat was even when we weren’t connected the way we are now.
He kept his eyes on me as he moved, and gave me a harder, deeper thrust that took my breath.
“Like that? Is that what you want, girl?” He did it again, and I clutched him tighter, a moan coming from somewhere deep inside me.
“God yes, Stitch. More, please.”
He slid his hands under my shoulders, and gripped them to keep me in place, as he started fucking me the way I’d begged him to. He gave me everything, holding nothing back, and as our sweaty bodies rubbed and writhed together, I think he finally realised what he’d been letting himself miss out on. The one thing he probably needed more than anything. Closeness. Intimacy. Sharing himself with someone, mutual pleasure, that surge of ecstasy as we both crashed over the edge, and he shuddered inside me, filling me with the result of that pleasure.
Stitch rested his forehead against mine, as we both breathed each other’s air, panting slowly, our bodies still fused together in the most intimate way.
“I never thought I’d get to do that again. I’m so glad it was with you, Camille.”
Eighteen
Fuck me… why didI wait? Why did I hold back, and act like such a bitch? Did I just forget how fucking amazing it feels, to come…oh fuck…
I pulled back, and eased out of Camille as she lay there, smiling up at me.
“What did I just do? I… fuck!” My first thought was horror, because we didn’t use protection, and I had no idea if she was on birth control, and if it was even safe for me coming inside her with what might be wrong with me, but then I saw the blood, and felt like the biggest bastard in the world.
“Did I hurt you? Camille, fucking hell, did I hurt you?”
Her face creased into a frown, and she shifted up onto her elbows to stare at me.
“What the hell? Of course you didn’t, Stitch. You could have been rougher, and I’d still have been okay, so… Stitch? Oh god, you’re bleeding.”
I backed up, staggering a few steps.
“What the fuck?”
She was right.The blood was coming from me, not her, and there wasn’t a lot, but it was there. I lunged around, grabbing my clothes, and trying to get the fuck out before I got more blood on her, or embarrassed myself even further.
“Stitch, stop! What the hell are you running for?”
I heard her following me, and spun to stop her.
“Stop! Don’t come any closer to me, and please, for god’s sake, get that blood off you. I don’t… I… fuck me. Why is this happening?”
I’d beenable to ignore the stinging pain down there, but now it was starting to take over my brain. I was bleeding down there. Was it another stage of what was happening to me? Was it another symptom? What should I do?
Camille dropped to her knees, and tugged my hands away from hiding my junk, my clothes still bunded in my hands.
“Stitch… I don’t know how to say this without sounding ironic, but you’ve torn stitches. That’s all it is, hey, look at me. This is fixable, okay? It’s my fault for making you go harder. You have a doctor at the club, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, nodding at her. “Is his number in your phone? Stitch, answer me!”
Somehow I regained my faculties enough to answer her, and unlock my phone, and then she was talking to someone.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s early, but Stitch needs help. He’s at my place right now. Yes… no, he needs the club doctor. Should I bring him straight there?”
I lunged at her for the phone, because suddenly I was back to not wanting anyone to know my business. It was becoming too real again.
“Stop it, dammit!” She edged out of my way again. “He tore his stitches… he’s bleeding.”
Then she let out a giggle, and covered her mouth.
