Page 38 of Make Me Forget
When he finally slid home, we both gasped in unison. “Are you okay?” he asked, bracing his weight on his hands next to my ribcage.
I nodded, incapable of human speech at the moment. For a second, we stayed there, joined together, but I was too far gone to sit and wait. I wanted the friction, the heat of his body on mine, the scrape of his chineverywhere.
Not waiting, I wrapped my hands around his waist and tried to make him move. He didn’t budge but watched my feeble attempts with a soft grin. “Do you think I could help here?” heasked.
Bastard.
“Yes, please. You’re inside me. We should probably, youknow…”
“Fuck,” he supplied, and even though I was broaching thirty, my face heated at his words. The blush fled in the wake of him arching his hips up into me. The pressure agonizingly building in my belly started to ebb and make way for a different kind ofneed.
The kind poets wroteabout.
The kind people paid moneyfor.
The kind I didn’t knowexisted.
I should hate him a little bit for showing me this side of sex. Otherwise, I’d be oblivious, and most of my information involving the actual biology would center around romance novels and late night TV. Oh, but I couldn’t hate him when he stoked to life such delicious sensationsinside.
His cock grazed my clit, and I nearly shattered right then. I’d had orgasms before. A twenty-something woman does not go years without at least exploring her body’s needs. I’d just never found a man I wanted to spend time with enough to get to theact.
This was not the same as doing it myself. The scent of our joined bodies, the sweat, all of it had a carnality and barbarism to it I didn’t anticipate. And it wasn’t displeasing, anything but. I arched into him now, trying to meet him thrust for thrust as a bead of sweat rolled down the center of his chest. I licked my lips. I wanted to lick it off and bite the skin afterward. What kind of person wantsthat?
He changed the angle and lifted my knees up around his hips, and I marveled at the way a simple move could change the entire experience. My orgasm loomed easily ahead. I needed a little extra push. I eyed him for a moment. Would touching myself put to question hismasculinity.
I rolled my eyes, and threw my hands to the bed. He stopped and met my eyes. “Are you ok? Do you want me tostop?”
“Can you even dothat?”
He made to pull out, and I clutched his forearms tight. “No. Please.Don’t.”
He settled back on me and forced me to maintain eye contact. “So what was that allabout?”
“I just needmore…”
“Then say something, Beautiful. I’ll take care of you, or you take care of you and let mehelp.”
He shifted back into position and arched into me. As he instructed, I kept my eyes on him as I slid my hand betweenus.
His jaw tightened, and he groaned softly as he kept his gaze on my hand. When I started a hard swirl over the swollen bud of my clit, he started pumping into me faster. “I’m going to come, and it’s going to be soon. I want you to comefirst.”
The pressure felt too much, until he shifted his knees up and changed the angle once more. With the new position and the sensation on my clit, I fell over the cliff, kicking and screaming. It rattled me from scalp to toes, and I had to jerk my hand away from my body in the aftermath of thesensation.
Murphy kept going until he dropped his forehead down and surged inside me once more holding to my body tight. I could feel the pulse of him there, and I wantedmore.
Once he came back, he went to the bathroom, cleaned himself, and me, as I watch bemused, and then he lay down in the bed next to me, still naked. “What wasthat?”
He didn’t answer right away, but nuzzled the sensitive skin of my neck with this lips. “That was me taking care of mywoman.”
“Your woman, huh?” As archaic as him saying such a thing sounded, I sort of liked to hearit.
The thought started a cascade through my brain like a house of cards tumbling from the top. I didn’t stay and cuddle him. I didn’t ask him to join me. I didn’t offer any explanation. On the outside, I looked like an asshole right now, curled up in the shower, but on the inside, everything that had been holding up that house of cards was crumbling too. The structures I’d built against others to keep me safe, broken, cracked, ruined. The walls I’d erected to ensure no one could hurt me. Nothing but drywall and paintchips.
I rocked forward as I sat in the shower until a soft knock came at the door. “Mara, are you alive inthere.”
I sniffed as delicately as I could and called back. “Fine, be out in aminute.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to open up to Murphy. What scared me was with these foundations and boundaries decimated, I’d have nothing to keep the rest of me in. I’d spiral and break and splinter intorubble.
