Page 8 of Reticent

* * *

I’m uncoordinated. So is he. We stumble out of the club, zigzagging across the street with his arm firmly around my waist.

We abruptly stop in front of a motel, almost tripping over each other. I giggle, and he laughs, pulling me into a passionate kiss with his hands buried in my hair. He tastes like whiskey, and although I can kiss him all night, it’s his dick I want.

As if he can read my mind, he breaks our kiss and takes my hand. We make a sharp left through the doors underneath a neon vacancy sign. The lobby of the motel smells like stale cigarettes. A silver-haired man wearing a shoestring tie watches us as we make our way to the counter.

“We need a room.” He slides a black credit card and his ID across the counter. I stand beside him, barely watching the transaction when the room starts to spin. “Are you okay?” he asks, holding me close to him by my waist.

I give him a perfunctory nod. “Splendid.”

His smile is wider than I’ve seen it all night, a dimple piercing the spot underneath his left eye. “Splendid?”

We both burst out into laughter, but the man behind the counter isn’t amused. “Check out is at eleven,” he says in a gruff voice, sliding the key card across the counter.

We hurry into the night air, around the building, and up the concrete stairs. We pass a few doors before finding our room. While he enters the key card, I hug him from behind, splaying my hands over his abs. When he pushes the door open, he yanks me through and kicks it shut.

A lamp crashes to the floor as our mouths collide in a crushing kiss. We’re like a tornado, wreaking havoc all over the motel room like there’s no tomorrow.

In reality, there isn’t.

From the first time I noticed him standing over the railing, I wondered what it would be like to touch him. To taste his skin. To see him naked. Now here we are, drunk on expensive liquor and each other, about to consummate what we started back at Vivid.

His tongue explores the recesses of my mouth as we strip articles of clothing from each other’s bodies until we’re both naked. He’s lean-muscled and hard everywhere. His impressive cock stands at attention against his abs. He’s everything I thought he would be and more, with scattered black tattoos on his shoulder, his side, and his left bicep.

“God, you’re hot,” I say, hearing the drunken slur in my voice.

He grabs the sides of my face. “I need to fuck you,” he says huskily before plunging his tongue back into my mouth.

He walks me backward until the backs of my legs hit the bed. I sink onto the mattress. I’m breathing hard and fast as he climbs over me like a hunter about to devour its prey. He lowers his head to my breast and draws my nipple into his mouth. He sucks it hard before his tongue lashes at the sharp point. When he does the same to my other breast, I’m so far gone with lust that I buck up into him, wanting more.

He releases my nipple from its delicious torture, and our tongues meet for a languid kiss. He puts his hand between us, lining his cock up with my center. My eyes slip shut as he slides the tip up and down my wet slit, pressing it against my clit and getting me off on the friction.

When his touch goes away and I no longer feel his weight on top of me, I peel my eyes open. “Why did you stop?”

I’m about to sit up on my elbows, but then he’s back, sheathing his dick with a condom. When he hovers back over me, all is right in the world.

He lines himself up to my channel. Our mouths touch, our breaths mingling as he breaches me, sinking into me to the base. I cry out as he stretches me wide open. He starts spearing me, rotating his pelvis in a way that hits all my walls.

I’m so full. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. What we’re doing isn’t romantic. It’s primal, wicked, and fucking hot. I know he’s using me, seeking his pleasure before mine. And even so, I want to give him everything. All of me.

His forearms brace at my sides as he takes me. With every thrust, every kiss, every touch, and every bite, something is happening to me. To my heart. To my mind. They’re going places they have no business going. I stare into the face of the man who’s fucking me senseless. He’s as lost as I am.

He’s in heaven.

I’m in purgatory. Trapped between heaven and hell. Between pleasure and pain. Between reality and make-believe. Between infatuation and love.

He’s going to ruin me, and it has nothing to do with his big dick. But we’re in this. For one night, at least. That’s all we have. That’s all we’ll ever have. Might as well go for broke.

I let go of any remaining inhibitions that the alcohol didn’t dissolve and match his intensity as he drives into me balls-deep. The harder he fucks me, the harder I want it, even though it feels like he’ll tear me apart.

Once he has his fill, literally and figuratively, he pulls out of me and flips me over, drawing me up on all fours. I don’t have time to think when he slams into me again from behind, fucking me so hard my eyes roll into the back of my head.

I wasn’t ready for a man like him. His stamina, his hunger, his kink. When he’s not fucking me with his big cock, he’s using his hands and his tongue to explore all my holes. He sexes me in ways I’ve never been sexed, taking my pleasure to heights I didn’t think possible. He unravels me completely with his bedroom skills.

He comes inside of me without warning, and we lie still, his chest to my back, his cock still inside me, and his heavy breaths at my ear. I’m stunned still, waiting for him to pull out of me, already grieving the loss of his cock and an orgasm I never got to have.

“I’m not finished with you,” he finally says, his voice a low growl. His cock twitches, and I inwardly clap my hands and jump for joy when he swells inside me.