Making Love
I barely had time to catch my breath before he shifted underneath me, the thick, hot length of him pressing harder against my soaked panties. He groaned, frustrated and hungry, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against me through the damp fabric.
"Remi," he rasped, voice cracking with need, "I can't—I need to be inside you."
I nodded frantically, pulling at his shirt, desperate to feel him, to have him inside of me. To let him fill me up with his hard shaft.
He didn't wait. In a blur of heated motion, he shoved my panties aside, the air hitting my soaked, swollen pussy making me shiver. Then he freed himself, his cock heavy and flushed, the tip already leaking with precum.
"Hold onto me," he ordered, voice barely human anymore.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder as he lined himself up. There was one breathless second of stillness and then he pushed inside me slowly but damn did it feel so good. I felt filled up and tight with his cock.
I gasped, my body stretching, adjusting to the thick, perfect feel of him filling me. He gritted his teeth, his hands locking tight on my hips, holding me still as he sank deeper, deeper, until there was no space left between us.
"Fuck," he groaned, forehead dropping to my shoulder. "So tight. So fucking wet."
I whimpered his name, rocking my hips instinctively, desperate for more.
He started to move, slow and deep, grinding up into me in deliberate, mind-melting thrusts. Each roll of his hips rubbed against my clit just enough to make my thighs quake around him, new pleasure spiraling almost immediately.
"Feel that?" he panted against my neck. "My cock stretching you open... you were made for this."
I could only moan, my fingers scrambling against his back, nails dragging across heated skin.
He thrust harder, his rhythm messy now, desperate. His mouth found mine again, bruising and hungry, our bodies slamming together in frantic, needy movements.
I came again before I could even warn him, my whole body locking up tight around him, spasming helplessly. I cried out into his mouth, shaking, stars bursting behind my eyelids.
Rowan cursed, a filthy, broken sound, and pulled out quickly, just in time.
Hot, thick ropes of cum spurted across my dress, splattering the soft fabric just above my thighs. I gasped at the sudden warmth, the obscene mess of it, biting my lip hard as I looked down.
He caught my face in his hands instantly, forcing me to look at him, to see the wildness in his eyes, the desperation.
"Don't regret this," he said hoarsely, voice wrecked. "Please, Remi. Don’t you dare regret it."
I stared at him for a long, breathless moment, feeling the heat of him still throbbing between my thighs, the mess cooling on my dress, the mark of what we’d just done.
And then I smiled.
Soft and sure and so fucking real.
"I'm okay," I whispered, my voice raw but steady.
Before he could say anything else, I leaned in and kissed him. Deep, slow, full of everything I couldn't find words for. He groaned softly against my mouth, pulling me closer like he never wanted to let go.
His hands slipped up into my hair, cradling my head as we kissed, our bodies still trembling from what we’d done, what we were.
When we finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead to mine, breathing hard, eyes searching mine with something fierce and unspoken.
"I meant it," I said again, voice stronger this time. "I'm okay."
He exhaled a long, shuddering breath, his thumb stroking my cheek like he couldn't stop touching me. His other hand slid down, tracing the damp line of his release on my dress with a kind of awe.
"Fuck, Remi," he whispered. "You drive me insane."
"Good," I breathed, feeling reckless and light, my body still singing from him, for him.
We stayed like that, wrapped around each other, the air thick with sex and heat and something infinitely softer beneath it all. The wheel still hummed in the background, clay forgotten, reality forgotten.
There was only him. Only me. Only us.
And I didn’t regret a thing.
****
You know that feeling you get the next morning after feeling fulfilled? Or better still after an orgasm?
That was what I was feeling right now. I woke up positive. I did everything on time.
I even kissed Rowan on the cheek as he left for work. It felt normal. Crazy but normal.
I love it. I wanted more of this. More of this sweet feeling.
Is it love? Nah, I don't think I am close to there yet.
Or am I?
I shook my head. Whatever.
I adjusted the bouquet of white lilies in one hand, balancing the neatly packed meal in the other as I walked down the hospital corridor. My heart tugged slightly when I spotted Carter sitting upright in bed, staring blankly at the television screen mounted to the wall.
He turned toward me as I stepped inside, his face breaking into a warm, genuine smile.
“Remi?” His voice was filled with quiet surprise. "I didn't expect you to be here."
I smiled, setting the flowers down on the table beside him. "You're stuck in a hospital bed because you tried to help me. The least I could do is bring you flowers and decent food."
He laughed softly, eyes crinkling in genuine amusement. "I haven't had decent food since they admitted me. You might have just saved my life."
"I hope you like pasta," I said, uncovering the neatly packed meal. "I thought comfort food might be in order."
He took a deep breath, eyes closing in exaggerated relief. "God, yes. You’re a saint, Remi."
I chuckled, pulling up a chair beside him. My smile faded slightly, my voice softer now. "Carter, I’m really sorry about everything with Asher. If it wasn’t for—"
He raised a hand, gently cutting me off. "Wait. Shouldn't I be the one apologizing here? He's my brother. He hurt you—he terrified you. I'm just grateful you’re still speaking to me."
"It’s not your fault," I said gently, shaking my head. "You tried to protect me. You did everything you could."
He sighed heavily, eyes clouding slightly. "Yeah, but maybe I could've prevented it somehow. I should’ve seen how bad things were getting."
I touched his hand gently, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Asher made his own choices, Carter. You're not responsible for those."
He gave a faint smile, bittersweet. "I know. But he wasn’t always like that, you know. There was a time we were close, really close.
He was the kind of brother who'd stay up all night talking to you about life, girls, dreams—anything."
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