I had no need to use my hand to guide my stiff cock into her. She opened for me, and I worked my way in with little pumps and gyrations.
I was three quarters of the way into her and she arched her head back and let out a cry of pleasure.
“God,” I said, “you feel so fucking good.”
I grabbed her ass with one hand. With the other hand I reached up and untied the shawl from the headboard. But I did not untie her hands.
She grabbed my chest. I grabbed her head and kissed her. My lips and tongue explored her mouth in rhythm with my cock penetrating her deeper and deeper.
She let out a loud moan. “God, you’re fucking huge.”
Her hands ran down my chest, but tied together I could see she was having trouble moving them down.
“I’m not all the way in,” I said. I turned her on her side and laid myself down beside her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders keeping her body tight against mine, the other rubbing the contours of her pussy, my fingers gently exploring her labia.
I straddled her and lifted her hips to pull her closer to me as I rammed my cock deeper into her still.
I pulled out when I felt I was about to come. “I should put on protection,” I said, under my breath.
Gwen managed to pull her hands free. She turned, grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me back onto her. She wrapped her legs around my back.
I entered her again. “I’m going to come,” I said.
She kissed me, long.
I fucked her, long.
We came together.
I picked my pants off the floor, pulled out my phone from the front pocket and glanced at the time. “Oh, shit. I need to get out of here.”
Gwen lay curled up on the bed. “Awe. You’re going to leave me here all alone?”
I shook my head. “I’m going to leave you. But you won’t be alone; not for long.”
Her eyes widened.
I gave her a kiss. “I need to jump in the shower real quick.”
“Sure.”
I took one of the fastest showers I’d ever taken in my life. I dried myself off, barely, slipped on my clothes and opened the door. I turned to Gwen, blew her a kiss and slipped out into the corridor.
Just as I reached the stairs, Nolan turned the corner. I was walking so fast I almost smacked into him.
“Shit, Axel.” He glanced at his watch then at me. “You better hurry.”
“Yep,” I said then I raced down the stairs, out the lobby and ran back to the base.
12
Tristan
Aisha was my high school sweetheart. I’d been with a few girls since Aisha, but they had been one-night stands. With Gwen, it was different. I tried to keep my feelings out of it; I tried to focus on her hot body and tell myself it was just about the sex. But I simply wasn’t able to. I kept thinking about her. I thought about the sex, sure, but most of the time I thought about just being around her or talking to her or laughing with her.
This had me very concerned.
It had been nearly nine years since Aisha’s accident, and I still wasn’t ready for any kind of emotional attachment. Hell, it took me nearly four years before I was able to ride in a car again. I still hated them; I hated roads and traffic lights, and all the tangential things that contributed to taking Aisha’s life.
Aisha had been my first, and, until Gwen, she’d been the only girl I ever cared about. It was impossible not to make a comparison. Not that I compared Gwen to Aisha; but I compared how I felt about Gwen to how I’d felt about Aisha. The feelings were uncomfortably similar.
I was so bothered by this that I did something I almost never did: I talked to my brothers—I mean, really talk to them.
“It’s starting again,” I said.
“What’s starting again?” asked Taylor.
I tapped my chest. “My heart. I’m having feelings.”
“Feelings for Gwen?” asked Travis.
I nodded.
“That’s a good thing,” said Taylor. “It’s good and natural. I have feelings for her.” He motioned to Travis. “So does Travis; he has feelings for her. It’s normal.”
Travis nodded.
I said nothing.
“This has you worried?” asked Taylor.
I nodded.
“Is it the sharing?” asked Travis. “Are you feeling jealousy?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. No. No, I don’t feel jealousy. I feel… dread.”
“Dread?” They said in unison.
I stood, put my hands on my head and paced. “I’m feeling exactly like how I felt before I lost Aisha.”
“But,—” Taylor started.
“I don’t know,” I interrupted. “I feel like something terrible is about to happen. I feel great, but at the same time, I’ve felt this way before.” The volume in my voice rose with each frantically uttered sentence. “It’s starting again. It’s all happening again.”