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Lifting my arm over my head, he covers my hand with his own, pressing it into the wall beside the mirror. “I’m a nice guy—is that what she said?” He leans over and whispers it in my ear. “I want to know.”
I open my eyes and the image that greets me takes my breath away. My sweat-slicked breasts bared, nipples hard and swollen. My arms above my head, Hands trapped, pressed flat against the wall by his wide, callused palm. Patrick’s chest is bare, a pair of basketball shorts yanked down around his hips. I can see the huge, swollen length of him pushed between my legs.
His hips grind slowly, sliding the shaft of his cock along the seam of my wet pussy, pushing between its folds, the head of it hitting my clit, over and over until I’m shaking uncontrollably.
“Please...”
He lifts his free hand and captures one of my breasts. “As soon as you tell me what I want to know…” He pinches my nipple hard, rolling it between his thumb and finger, tugging and caressing. “I’ll let you come…” His heavy-lidded gaze locked on the hand on my breast. “I’ll even help you.” He rolls his hips against me and I moan, my knees buckling slightly. “Is that what she told you? That I’m a nice guy in bed.”
I nod my head, swallowing hard.
Patrick slides his hand down my torso and it disappears behind the veil of my skirt a moment before I feel him. Slipping his fingers inside, he pumps them in and out of my quivering center to coat them with my arousal before finding my clit. “Words, please,” he growls, rolling the swollen nub under his juice-slicked fingers.
“Yes.” The words tumble out on a shuttering groan.
He pulls my hand off the wall and presses it between my legs, replacing his with mine, guiding my fingers, pressing them inside me. “You want hear something funny?” he says, his fingers still circling my clit, the pleasure of it, his hand and mine, heavy between my legs before his finger leave me completely. “I never fucked Sara.” In the mirror, I watch him coat his cock with my arousal, his glossy fingers sliding up and down the straining length of his shaft. “Not without thinking about you.”
The hand on my breast slides around my shoulder, closing around the back of my neck. “Because that’s the only way I can get hard.” The hand on my neck trails down my spine while his other hand pumps his cock. “Do you know how bad that fucks with someone’s head? Knowing the only person he can get hard for thinks he’s a fucking joke?”
The hand on my spine brushes across my lower back, fingertips dipping into the cleft of my ass, feathering and teasing against its hole and I moan. Oh, my god…
“I tried being with someone else and it didn’t work. I tried to be the nice guy and you wouldn’t let me.” He presses his thumb against my puckered hole. “I don’t understand what you want from me.” He slips the tip of it inside, the sudden pressure of it turning me inside out while the head of his cock jerks against my juncture of my thighs with the forces of his strokes.
“Patrick…” The orgasm rips me apart, screaming through me, so hard and violent I feel myself sliding down, a puddle of me gushing to the floor like water. Anchoring an arm around my waist, Patrick hold me upright, the head of his cock hot between my ass cheeks.
“I’m gonna come all over your ass,” he tells me, his chest heaving with the effort to keep his own orgasm at bay.
“Yes...” That’s all I can say as my pussy grips and pulls at my fingers as a second orgasm pulls me under. “Come on me.”
“Fuck.” He lets out a roar, the fast, rhythmic pump of his hand up and down his cock becomes frantic, seconds before I feel the hot spurts of his release against my ass cheeks. The back of my thighs. Between them.
His hand comes up to brace against the wall over my head and he leans into me, the length of his cock pressed between my slippery ass cheeks, jerking and twitching the last of his release. So much, I can feel it start to creep down the inside of my thigh.
Suddenly, his fingers close over my chin, twisting my face around, his mouth and tongue devouring mine. I want to turn around. Wrap my arms around him so he can carry me to bed but he won’t let me. He keeps me where I am, breaking the kiss, turning my face again to run his tongue along my jawline.
“This is what I see every time I watch you in this mirror,” he whispers in my ear before trailing his tongue up the length of my neck, gaze fused to mine. “I want you to see it too.” He moves his hand between my legs, grips me by the wrist, stoking me with my fingers before pulling them free. “I want you to feel it, every time you look in this goddamned mirror.” I watch as he lifts my fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean of my juices, the feel of his tongue against my skin almost enough to make me come again.
You broke it, you bought it.
What Conner said to me earlier replays in my brain.
“Make me feel bad,” I say, feeling a perverse kind of satisfaction when his shoulders stiffen against the sharp jab of my words.
He looks away from our reflection and lets go of my hand.
“Earlier today when I was getting ready for my date. You came up here to…” make me come. Remembering it, heat rushed over my body. It didn’t matter than I’ve had more orgasms in the past 24-hours than I’ve had in that last six months. My body wants more. “You interrupted me while I was talking. I was going to say all you want to do is make me feel bad.”
He won’t look at me. All I can see is his profile in the mirror, his clean-shaven jaw flexing. His teeth grinding and clenching. For a moment, I think he’s going to say something but he doesn’t. He just steps back and reaches down to catch a hold of my panties, still around my knees. “Well, you know what they say about misery, Cari,” he tells me, pulling them up, the crotch of them instantly soaked with my arousal and his release when they meet the juncture of my thighs. He smooths the seam of them across my hips before leaning into me to whisper in my ear again. “It loves company.”
Thirty-seven
Patrick
I don’t sleep. Instead,I lay in bed and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. If the past hour did anything, it proved to me that whatever it is, it’s not going to get better anytime soon.
After Benny’s I ordered Sara an Uber and waited with her for it arrive while Conner walked Tess home. I could hear them arguing one of their classics—Superman vs. Batman—their voices growing fainter and fainter the farther away they got. Sara and I made awkward small talk until her car showed up and then I walked home alone.
Despite what I said to her before she left, I’d resolved to keep my hands to myself and my dick in my pants tonight. It was somewhere between two and three o’clock in the morning. I had to be up in four hours. Regardless of my ridiculous posturing to the contrary, I had absolutely no claim on Cari. I couldn’t fuck her just because I wanted to.