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I gasp, barely keeping back a moan, and Sam grins. And then he starts to fuck me. He’s pressing down and back so I’m almost bent in half, legs caught on his shoulders, stretched on his cock. His face is close, watching my every expression with a confident grin, listening in case I make a sound. Pleasure explodes through me, and I bite my lips to keep quiet. Sam’s lips crush down on mine, kissing the breath out of me, stretching me even tighter with my legs pinned over his shoulders. Every stroke drags with a glorious friction, and I close my eyes, letting it wash over me in waves. Sam is grinding his hips into mine, each thrust brushing against my clit and sending me higher.
I can’t hold back the small sounds I’m making. It’s a miracle that they’re small sounds because the way he’s fucking me makes me want to scream. Sam inches a hand between us, fingers circling my clit. Everything draws into sharp focus, pleasure tightening and I can feel the orgasm building. I’ve never been quiet during sex, and I can feel my lips burn from biting them.
Sam never slows down, and the rhythm sends me over the edge. The orgasm bursts outward, and I’m breathing hard, shuddering with pleasure trying not to cry out. But I don’t get any relief—I’m fucked into a pleasurable haze, Sam speeding up his rhythm until I’m doing nothing but feeling. Tiny orgasms sparkle across my body. They don’t stop. God. Yes, yes, yes. I’m breathing the words, urging him on, and I feel when his cock jerks inside me, his rhythm faltering. He’s close, and I reach out, pulling him closer, and he thrusts in harder. Again, and again, and he comes. He shudders against me, and I go with him—a final orgasm sweeping through and leaving me spent.
I can’t breathe.
Sam is staring down at me, face no longer hard. He looks…awed, and I feel the same. We had good sex when we were teenagers—better sex than most people our age—but it was nothing compared to that. We’re both trying to catch our breath, and there’s a sheen of sweat on Sam’s skin that’s goddamn sexy. I don’t know if there’s anything that turns me on more than seeing a man work up a sweat trying to pleasure me. He’s still inside me, and I remember us like this. Laying together after we’d finished, reluctant to pull apart. It somehow feels more intimate now.
I look away, overcome with an emotion I can’t name.
Sam slips out of me, slips away before he’s back with me, now naked, his hands on my skin again. “I wonder,” he says softly, moving down my body, “do you still taste the same?”
His mouth falls on me, and I gasp just as my eyes fall on a picture on his dresser. I feel like I can’t breathe, and I’m not sure if it’s because his tongue is brushing across my clit and my body feels on fire with pleasure or if it’s because the past just punched me in the chest. The picture is of the two of us. On prom night. I remember that picture too—in my front yard with Sam’s arms wrapped around me. I remember feeling like it was the happiest moment of my life. And it all came crashing down a few hours later.
What the fuck am I doing?
“Stop,” I say. Sam pauses, and I push him away. “Stop.”
Scrambling off the bed, I pull my dress up over my breasts, struggling to tie it again. I pull it down over my hips too, and ignore the sensation of my own arousal running down my legs. Arousal from Sam. I’m going to be sick.
Sam is watching me carefully, and lying on the bed he looks like a perfect marble statue in a museum. It’s infuriating. “Something wrong?” he asks.
“Was this your plan?” I ask. “Somehow trick me so you could fuck me one more time? Congratulations. You win, but never again. Not after…” I glance back towards the photograph of us. Our blinding smiles from that day mock me.
Sam follows my line of sight to the picture. “That’s what this is about?” he says.
“Of course it is,” I spit at him.
“What exactly is it,” he asks, standing, “that you think I did?”
It’s almost impossible to speak to him standing there naked in front of me. My eyes keep scanning his body. The shadows of his abs, the hard line of his cock jutting towards me. “You…” my chest tightens, just like it always does when I try to talk about this. My worst memory. My worst regret. “You broke my heart. You cheated on me with that girl. Lacy.”
Sam’s jaw tightens, and he crosses his arms. Naked, it just makes him look more muscular, and I feel a tremor in my legs. My body wants more of him. All of him. But I’m not going to be that weak again. I won’t.
