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Without arguing, I let him lead me back inside. But even as he does, I know what I have to do.
Being with Tommy, attending his tournaments, sharing in his life—it all feels like a childish dream that is slipping through my fingers. The only future I can see with Tommy is filled with pain for him. The risk is too great. In this moment, with my heart heavy and my resolve crystallizing, I know leaving him is the only right path in front of us. The where doesn’t matter, a question mark that has no answers yet, only the certainty that Tommy can't be part of my life. Ever.
Hiding from my family is the only option until they are no longer a threat. Emotions swell, threatening to break free, as I fight against the tears stinging my eyes. Tommy has a wet washcloth, and he’s dabbing at my skin marked with dark soot with such care that the tears finally break free.
"I love you, Tommy,” I manage to choke out, my voice hoarse from the smoke and the turmoil inside me.
"I love you too, Til. We'll figure this out, okay?" His optimism, so like him, makes my heart ache even more. I nod, but he isn’t satisfied. He gently lifts my face to meet his eyes. "I mean it. I love you, Tilly. This changes nothing, okay?”
The tears are tracing a path down my cheek, but he is there to catch them, his thumb gently wiping some away before his lips meet mine in a tender kiss. The warmth of his touch ignites something fierce within me. Faced with the reality that this could be our last embrace, I yearn for one more moment of connection, to feel the intensity of our night together once again.
I fling my arms around his neck, pressing myself closer, my lips parting to deepen our kiss. I savor the taste of him, the feel of him against me, allowing the passion to wash over us, pushing away the torment of our situation.
For now, nothing else matters but the depth of my feelings for Tommy and the heartbreaking realization of what I am about to lose. He pulls back, breathless from our frenzied kissing. "Tilly, maybe we should—"
I can't bear to let him finish, to entertain thoughts of stopping now. My lips find his again, his arms enveloping me in a desperate embrace, all hesitations dissolving as we lose ourselves in each other once more.
I moan, and his body responds, tensing every muscle against me. I let go of him and push back. He lays back as I tear out of my clothes as quickly as possible. Once he realizes what’s happening, he’s doing the same, as desperate as I am. Once we’re both naked, we rush at each other. We collide together, and he lifts me off the mattress, only to spin me around and drop me back down.
After bouncing a few times, I settle with my legs apart, and he crawls over me. His arms go to either side of my body, but his face leans down. Our mouths meet, but I keep my eyes open. I want—no, need—to immortalize every line of his face, to commit each moan and touch to memory.
He lets his hips grind against me, groaning as he does, and my head tilts back.
“Tommy, that’s so good.” His cock is pressing against the perfect spot, making me pulse with pleasure.
“Babe, let me feel you,” he says.
His hand brushes the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh, and my soul aches even more.
“Yes, Tommy. Please.” His fingers graze against my pussy before diving inside me. He’s moving his hand in and out, swirling his fingers deep within me as he does. The feeling is pure electricity, like a new fire, a beautiful safe one, has been lit within my stomach and is spreading up and out through all my limbs.
My hand moves into his hair, grabbing on and pulling at the loose strands. But it isn’t enough. “More, Tommy,” I beg.
He grabs onto his own cock and stares at me. “Tilly, I want to feel you, all of you.”
I know he has to get physicals before every tournament. But more than that, he would never endanger me. I trust Tommy implicitly, and I had gotten tested a few months ago when I refilled my birth control prescription.
So I nod. He doesn’t hesitate to shove his dick inside me bare, all the way to his base. I gasp at the force of it, but it only takes a moment for my body to adjust. As soon as I’m stretched around him, he starts moving in and out.
While he does, he’s staring into my eyes with such a tender expression, I almost want to look away. Instead, I cup his cheek. He lowers his head until it is resting against her ear.
“I love you, Matilda Cardenas.” He says it just as he thrusts into me again, his whole body shivering with the movement or the admission, I’m not exactly sure. But the use of my real last name, an acceptance of me, all of me—including my ridiculous family—is too much. Tears sting at my eyes, but I blink rapidly to clear them away. Crying during sex would be a mistake. The moment is too beautiful for that.
“I love you too, Tommy.” I say with all the emotion I can give. Tommy’s hand goes down my arm, his fingers first caressing my palm before I tangle them with mine. Intertwining them together like our bodies already are. I want every part of him to take with me when I leave.
With every drive of his dick, I feel the orgasm build, starting in my stomach and blooming outwards until my entire body is convulsing with each powerful thrust. “Harder, Tommy,” I moan.
He draws his hips back and snaps them forward again, pounding into me. His grunts are growing closer together. “Come for me, Tilly,” he says.
I love the powerful words, the demand that I do what he wants. The loss of control is exactly what I need. No decisions about family, no worries about leaving him, just Tommy telling me what to do. Tingles spread through me, my heart rate spiking to a fevered rate, and my body finally bursts into what feels like a rainbow of light around him. Nothing else matters. No one else matters. It’s just me and Tommy doing what we were always meant to.
He’s pumping against me faster, his cock pulsing inside me. “Tilly…” he pants out quietly. I can only manage to gasp, trying to contain the scream in my throat, high on my own climax as he releases into me.
He growls through his orgasm until finally he grows still. For a moment, neither of us moves. But eventually, he collapses on top of me, his sweat covered body completely limp. We both take a few minutes to catch our breath. Eventually, he props himself up and kisses me deeply. My hands massage into the soft locks on top of his head. The gorgeous blonde hair that feels so silky smooth under my palm. My fingers twist into a fist, as if they know we won’t get to feel any of this again.
His forehead touches mine, before he gets off me. When his dick pops free from me, a hollowness replaces what felt so glorious a moment before. Empty, alone, scared. All words that are boring into me now that we’re done.
“Tilly, we’ll figure this out. Okay?” he asks, brushing hair off my sweat covered forehead. I nod even though the tears are already brimming. Sam had once asked me if I’d ever made love as opposed to just having sex. At the time, I thought she was being a love-sick idiot, but I can now honestly say that I understand.
