by Paige North
“You’re going to make me come, honey,” I tell her.
“Yes, please,” she pants. “Come with me.”
Oh my god, she’s killing me. As soon as she says those words I want to explode, but I wait for her. I watch her face, I feel every slick inch of her cunt. When her nails scratch across my back and her face contorts, I lose it. We come together as I explode into her, filling her up with my hot come. Ellie pulls me closer to her, holding and clawing at me as we both cry out.
I collapse on top of her as we both pant and try to catch our breaths.
My dick still inside her, I kiss her cheeks, her eyelids. I brush the hair off her face.
And I know nothing will ever be the same.
Ellie
Lying totally naked in the same bed as Ajax Remington gives me the strangest sensation, something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Safe.
I feel safe lying with him. I feel incredible after all that we just did. I never in a million years would have thought this man would take my virginity, but he was so gentle and sweet, and now he’s next to me, his face in my neck and his hand mindlessly caressing my skin.
I turn my head to kiss his forehead, still sticky with sweat.
When I came, my body burst with all the emotions and pent-up sexual frustration of my entire adult life. I’ve never felt anything so incredible.
Now my body is settling down into a warm glow—and I’m pretty sure my body will be ready for another go-around soon enough. I blush when I remember Ajax telling me he was going to fuck me all night. Fine by me. I bury my fingers in his thick hair and slowly massage his scalp. He moans out his sleepy satisfaction, and I don’t think anything could be more perfect.
“What is that noise?” Ajax asks after a moment.
“What noise?”
“You don’t hear that incessant dripping?” He lifts his head. His hair is adorably messy, sticking up at all angles. His eyes are heavy but his lips are still full. I reach up to kiss him.
“It’s the faucet in the bathroom. The tub. It drips.”
“Why don’t you fix it? Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
“No,” I say. “Guess I’m used to it.” I did have a plumber come out to look at it months ago, but the issue is deep in the walls and would require them replacing the pipes. Too expensive, I decided.
Ajax lies on his side, propping his head on his hand. He looks around my room, seeing it for the first time.
“You really like it here?” he asks, and there’s an incredulous tone to his voice. But I don’t mind. I get it. Why would I live in a tiny place like this when I could have something newer, bigger, and not in the middle of a construction zone?
“I love it here,” I admit. I sit up on my arm too, and face him. I lean in for another kiss. It’s slow, and we hold our lips together for a long breath. Kissing him makes me feel dizzy in the best possible way.
“But why? I’m not trying to be a dick. I promise. I know your dad passed,” he says, his hand gently squeezing my arm. “But wouldn’t he want you to move on? Get a new, better place to live?”
“I love this home more than any place in the world,” I tell him. “I took care of my dad in his final months—did you know that?” He shakes his head no. He watches me carefully as I speak, his eyes never leaving my face. I can tell him anything, I feel sure of it. And so I do. I tell him the truth.
“My dad and I have always been close—were always close,” I correct. It’s still so hard, even after all these weeks, to believe he’s really gone. “My mom left him when I was thirteen. She told me, ‘I’m leaving your father, but I’d never leave you.’ And then what’d she do? She and some guy from her office—a college intern at the time, fifteen years younger than her—took off for Florida.”
“They moved there?” Ajax asks.
“Yeah. She called me once or twice but I couldn’t bear to talk to her. She swore she’d never leave me and that’s exactly what she did. She left us both. Went off on some new life and then it was like we never existed to her. Dad sold our old place, gave her half the money and bought this place. When she left us we really banded together, took care of each other. We were both so broken, and the only reason we got through it was because we stuck together. For the longest time my dad was my best friend. When he got sick I couldn’t believe it. We’d pulled ourselves up from our family being broken—his body couldn’t break down on us too. It wasn’t fair.
“I remember the day Dad told me about the diagnosis,” I say, staring off to some space on Ajax’s shoulder, seeing nothing but my past. “Brain tumor. Inoperable. I was so angry—at everyone, at the world. But I hugged my dad and told him we’d get through this, just like we had everything else. I quit my job, moved back in here with him. I slept on the couch for months. I took him to all his doctor’s appointments, for as long as he had them. Then, when there was nothing left to do, we set up camp here, and I was with him every moment of every day until he took his last breath.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Anyway, that's why I love it here, why I can’t leave. I feel like my connection to Dad is here, like a living thing, in this apartment. I couldn’t stand to see it torn up, the walls knocked down to make way for cubicles. This apartment is what kept us steady all those years after Mom left, and all those months when he was sick. Now it keeps me steady.”
Ajax’s hand has fallen off my arm. He’s no longer looking at me—his eyes have lost their focus, staring at some unknown point between us.
“Hey,” I say. “Where’d you go?”
He looks at me and shakes his head. “Nowhere. Just listening.”
I run my hand over his solid, strong chest. “You ever lose anyone close to you?”
He’s silent for a moment. He takes my hand and kisses my fingertips. “I’m going to get some water. Want some?”
“Sure,” I say. He throws off the tangled sheets and heads to the kitchen.
When he comes back he hands me a glass. I take a sip and watch him as he climbs back in bed. Something catches my eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” I say. I set the water down and turn back to him. “Your leg,” I say. I reach for the sheets to pull them back and look. There’s a huge scar on his knee, and another on his other leg. “Ajax, what happened?”
He tugs the sheet back over his legs. “It was a long time ago. It’s nothing.”
“That looked pretty bad, whatever happened,” I say.
Ajax takes long gulps of his water, finishing the whole glass in one go. He looks around me to the clock on my nightstand. It’s after two.
“I should get back to my place,” he says.
“Really? I thought…” I’m about to say, I thought you were spending the night, but he’s up and back out of bed so fast I hardly have a chance. He’s pulling on his shorts and shirt. “You can stay,” I remind him, trying not to sound like I’m begging.
But in a way, I am.
“I sleep better in my own bed,” he says. He’s heading to the living room, aiming for the door so fast I have to scramble to get out of bed. I find my panties and quickly pull them on. I grab a shirt from the floor and hold it over my chest as I chase after him.
“Ajax, wait,” I say. “Are you okay?”
“I said I was fine,” he says, shoving his feet into his shoes.
“What just happened? I thought…I thought you were staying.”
He pauses for a moment. I wait for him to explain.
He pecks me on the lips and says, “I had a great night,” and heads for the door, leaving me stunned.
“Ajax…”
In the doorway, he turns back to me. Without looking me in the eyes he says, “Keep the apartment. I won’t try to force you out anymore.”
He shuts the door, and is gone, leaving me feeling stupid and confused.
Somehow, instead of a victory, it feels like I lost everything.
END OF PART ONE
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