CHAPTER ELEVEN
When my brothers come and load up the U-Haul truck, I watch as Skye’s life is moved. It’s all being combined with mine.
The goal is good. It’s for my girl. My baby.
But that girl Rhiannon’s words stick with me. She’s right—Skye is a pawn in a complicated game. I’m the one who put her there, and I didn’t ask her. Didn’t stop to make sure it was all okay with her.
I watch her. Her eyes are tired from packing all day. But when she stands there on the sidewalk, the sun frames her body. Her curves are illuminated by the late afternoon light. There’s a faint sheen on her breasts. The top she’s wearing is v-necked and low-cut. Her cut off jean shorts are just a bit too short, and I can see the tops of her thighs. It makes me think of her sweet pussy, the dark, metallic taste of her. Like pennies, sharp and forbidden. My cock swells.
That’s the thing. Looking at her makes me forget that this is all a favor. That it’ll be over soon, and I’ll be in my own apartment in Queens. Skye’s name will be off the lease, the divorce will be rushed through, and we’ll make sure Marta is never getting shit for custody.
For a second, though, I almost forgot all of that. Instead, my mind is rushing ahead to the pleasure of getting her alone inside our own place. Spreading her legs, making her scream. Fucking her for the first time, and on all the nights after that.
That stupid fucking guy who got rid of her. Didn’t show her what her body was for. Didn’t he see what he had? If she were mine, really mine, for years to come—I’d fuck her every day. I’d make sure she was always begging for it. Always wanting it. Tell her not to wear her panties to work. Or—have her go without a bra to the market. Make sure she was feeling it, wanting it, always thinking of me. And only me.
I focus on that thought as I watch the guys load up the truck. And by the time we get back to the apartment in Queens, I’m thinking of only that—not Rhiannon’s reaction to me or all the other bad shit about this being temporary.
The guys are staying around far too long, moving furniture, loading up cabinets.
When they finally leave, Skye is asleep.
I’m roaming the apartment, still thinking of her. The things I could do to her, every day.
I like it here, this place. I won’t admit it, but I do. I think it’s because Skye is in it.
The air in the apartment is crisp. We’ve got the windows open. It’s one of those nights in early Spring that’s just warm enough to do that, after a long, desolate winter. The bed is just a mattress on the floor. Skye has been sleeping on and off, after our marathon move-in day, but she wakes when I walk in the room.
She yawns and rolls over, her breasts exposed as the sheet slips down to her waist. “I thought you were setting up the TV.”
“Done,” I say. “An hour ago.” I walk over to her, and I feel myself growing hard already. That’s a theme with this woman. I never thought I’d be able to focus on just one girl, but this one makes me want her, bad. And pretty much all the fucking time.
It might be that I haven’t fucked her yet. In fact, it could be just that. It could be that I’ve been thinking about her for the entire day.
“I’m ready,” she says, her voice still sleepy. “I want it to be tonight.”
I smile and sit down on the bed next to her, pulling off my shirt. Her hands immediately find my hand, and she pulls my fingers to her sex.
“Slow down,” I groan. But she’s already put my fingers against her wetness, her pussy slick and hot. I think of that vice-like grip around my cock, the feeling of her clenching against me as she comes, shaking like she does.
“Please,” she says.
I slip a finger inside of her, and I press my thumb to her clit, but only lightly. “Please what? What do you want me to do?”
I withdraw my finger, pulling the slickness down to the tight entrance to her ass, resting my finger there. She shudders. “What—what are you doing?”
My thumb goes back to her clit, trailing over it. My fingertips feel every shiver of her body. “Whatever I want. When you’re mine, you’re mine to do with as I please. For the rest of our time together.”
“I don’t think I—” I slip two fingers inside of her again. I bring her own wetness up around her clit and back down to her ass. I think of taking that, too. Her mouth, her pussy, her ass. All mine.
“So, little librarian. What do you want?” I keep my fingers moving in deft circles. Her legs spread open wider, and she arches her back as I bring her closer to the edge.
“I want you to fuck me—I’m ready. Please.” Her breath hitches in her throat. “Oh God, please. Please, tonight.”
“We get married tomorrow,” I say, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling my waistband down. My cock springs free, and I groan. “I think we should wait until then. Make it more traditional.”
“No—please. Please, tonight.” She closes her eyes, bringing her hips upward to meet my hand, covering me with her wetness. She’s close. So close that I can feel her body start to tighten, begging for release.
I pull my hand away and bring it to my aching cock, kicking my jeans away from my body. I stroke myself with the slickness from Skye’s pussy. “You want to come on my cock,” I say.
I keep stroking myself. Skye pulls herself up on one elbow and hits my arm. “Come on,” she moans. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”
“What do you think?” I’m so hard now that there’s precum at the tip of my cock, a pearlescent bead. I think of how it would feel to release inside of Skye’s sweet, virgin pussy. Tight, fucking hot. God. I stop when I feel the shiver at the base of my spine, the tightening in my balls.
She’s looking at me with hunger in her eyes. Her hair falls over one eye, and she brushes it away. “I don’t know. You say you do—but we haven’t—we haven’t slept together yet.” Her cheeks color pink, and a flush creeps over her breasts. Gooseflesh rises on her skin. When she blinks, I think I might see tears. But it could be my mind playing tricks on me.
“I do. I want you,” I say.
I look at Skye. Her body is pale and luminescent in the moonlight that filters in through the window. Her breasts are round and heavy, nipples pink and stiff. She’s no longer shy about her body since I’ve taught her the things it can do. And fuck, I’m not even done showing her yet. I haven’t wanted a drink since I met her, and I haven’t even looked in the direction of another woman.
I move to Skye and push her down on the bed. She draws her breath in sharply and lets out a little moan. Her eyes widen, and I lower myself down on one elbow, kissing her hard and putting my hand to her sweet, delicate neck. When my fingers press down ever so slightly, she sighs, and she brings her legs around my waist, trying to pull me into her.
“Not yet,” I say. I keep my body position above hers, letting my hand wander over her breasts, cupping them, rolling the nipples until she groans in frustration. “But soon. Very soon.”
“When?” The word comes out as a whimper.
I slide my body down on top of hers and place my cock at her entrance. Instead of slipping it inside, I rest it against her folds, covering it in slickness, stroking myself as she moans and pushes her body up to meet mine. I bring myself to the edge again and stop, moving my fingers instead to Skye’s pussy, this time slipping three inside. She cries out, but I stop again before she comes.
Bringing my lips to her collarbone, I kiss her there. My tongue finds one nipple and circles it. I bite down gently, and I listen to that wanting sound that Skye makes, the sound that makes me know I can do whatever I want to her. Any time I want to.
“Tomorrow. After we’re married,” I say. I pull away from her body and stroke my cock, watching her, thinking of her coming for me. All the times she has, all the times we still have together—before she leaves for good. “I want you to walk around in that white dress, knowing that it’s your last day as a virgin. That after you say, ‘I do,’ I’m going to take you wherever I can get you alone, lift up your dress, and fuck you until your legs are shaking.” I take her hand in mine and kiss it, and I place it against her slippery sex.
“Oh God,” she whispers, hips lifting in pleasure.
“After you come tonight, you’re going to shave your pussy for me. I want you completely bare, nothing underneath that dress. I want you to feel every step you take tomorrow. You’ll be so wet when I fuck you.”
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I’ve never shaved before.”
“You will tonight.”
“Tonight, I want to watch you make yourself come, thinking about how I’m going to take your virginity. How it’s going to hurt to take my cock—” I start stroking myself again, closing my eyes for a split second to imagine it. “And then it’s going to feel so fucking good that you’ll be begging for it. Begging me to come inside of you.”
Skye’s breath catches in her chest again, and she slides her fingers inside of her pussy, fucking herself, her ass lifting in the air.
“You want me to come inside of you, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she says, looking at me with those deep, dark eyes. Her pupils are dilated, her eyelids flickering up and down. “I want to feel you come—” She closes her eyes, and she lifts her fingers to her clit, bringing herself higher, closer.
“In your mouth. Your pussy.” I pause, stroking myself until I feel like I’m going to burst. I pull her into me and bite down gently on her ear lobe. “Your ass. All of it’s mine.”
Skye groans, her body tensing and releasing. “Fuck,” she moans. “Oh fuck.” Her eyes open. “Yes, yes—I want it all.” She cries out and comes for me, hard.
Finally I let go, my balls growing tight and releasing. The flames lick through me, and I come hard, on her pale body. On her pussy, between her legs.
“All mine,” I say again. “Tomorrow. Whatever I decide to do.”
Skye nods. Her lips purse together. It looks like she’s about to say something, but instead, she takes my hand and pulls me up. We go to the shower together, letting the hot water roll over our bodies.
Skye is the first woman I didn’t fuck on the first night I met her, all because of a hunch. I touch her body, let the soap bubbles roll over her supple curves, kiss her as the water streams over us.
If I was anyone else, this would be a beginning—the first night in my new apartment with my fiancée.
Instead, it feels like an ending.
The future of both of our lives presses over us like a ghost. There’s so much I want to tell her, but I keep my mouth closed. Instead, I use it for other things.
And tomorrow, we have our very own, very fake, and according to my mother, very big—wedding.