Abigail

“I know what I want you to do,” I whisper in his ear. “And it involves shutting up and following my lead.”

There’s this wicked idea inside of me. It’s insane, but no more than the rest of my story with Quinn. I don’t look at him as some deity anymore, or like someone whose feet don’t touch the ground or who would never want someone like me.

I’m sick of getting in my own way. And I’m sick of things just happening to me. I’m waiting for someone to give me permission to live my life. What he did sucked. It hurt. But in light of everything else, and the sincerity with which he said he loved me, I’m willing to overlook it long enough for me to test out this theory.

“Starting when?” he asks.

“Now.”

We arrive at my cabin. It’s pitch black and I don’t have my phone, but Quinn makes enough of a ruckus in order to draw my attention to his phone. I turn the flashlight on, find my key, and open the door.

“I want you to lie down on the carpet,” I tell him.

It’s either that or the bed, and the bed isn’t neutral territory.

He looks puzzled but gets over it when I stand there with a firm hand. The problem is that when he tries to get down on the ground, he groans.

“Your knee?”

He nods.

“Sorry. In that case, the bed is fine. Make yourself comfortable. But not too comfortable.”

Quinn widens his eyes but remains silent. I give him some privacy, which gives me the chance to check on how I look. I’ve been in the woods all day long and I’m sure it shows.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t. The girl staring back at me isn’t the same one who stood on this very spot a month ago. Her eyes aren’t timid. Her posture isn’t set to a perpetual slouch. She’s lithe and strong. A warrior.

Abigail Swan, you finally arrived.

But none of that mattered if she only exists in a vacuum. Before I can even entertain the prospect of getting back together with Quinn, I need to know if she can exist with him, too.

I take off all my clothes and smile at my reflection. It’s the very first time I don’t flinch and look away. I didn’t go on a breakup diet and I didn’t start wearing makeup. I can’t explain it. Something fell away inside of me-there was this barrier before, and now there isn’t. I’m over it.

When Quinn sees me leaning against the doorframe, stark naked, his eyes widen again. I watch him for a long time and let him watch me. Neither of us moves.

Well, except for his cock. Even though it’s confined in his trousers, I can see how hard and ready he is for me.

“Take off your clothes,” I tell him, and they fall to the ground in five seconds flat. “I want to do something, but like I said, I’m the one running this show. I loved you dominating me”-I climb on top of the bed and straddle him, his cock nestling between the folds of my pussy-”but I need to figure something else out. I’ll explain later.”

I grind on his cock, soaking it with my wetness. There’s nothing subdued about the way I moan as I find the right position to hit my clit and still feel the length of him under me. Quinn writhes under me, clearly ready to burst.

The way he stays quiet, though, is such a turn on. I wonder if I’m taking away his agency and outright using him in the way you just don’t do if you love someone, but a look into his eyes tells me he’s loving every second of it.

I get on my lips, hovering over him, and rub my clit, basking in the pleasure I’m creating for myself. His eyes fixate on my pussy, filling me with a theatrical flair, so I stand up and prop myself back up on my knees closer to his face.

What he’s thinking is that I’m going to sit on him and make him give me the best damn oral. It’s tempting, but no.

I want him to watch. See me and my pussy up close and personal.

It’s like I’m hypnotizing him. He just cannot look away.

I’ve never felt so powerful.

“Abby-”

I raise a finger over my mouth, which silences him. Glancing backward, I see his cock twitching in regular beats. It’s thick girth somehow seems even bigger than I remember, swollen just for me and pulsating with my need.

And my need, too.

“Help me here,” I say, getting up again and returning to where I was. This time, I’m not on my knees but rather on my feet, squatting. I want full mobility. “Hold your cock up for me.”

Quinn licks his lips and obliges. It’s tantalizing what happens to a guy when you hold all the cards. My pussy barely touches the tip of his cock, but still, he’s wild with lust.

“You like that?” I ask him.

He nods.

“You want more?”

To that, he doesn’t have a response. Of course, he doesn’t know why I’m doing what I’m doing. I can just imagine what’s going through his mind: Is Abby doing it just to get off or is she searching for something else?

With Quinn, it’s never just to get off.

I lower myself slowly on his cock, letting it fill me up gradually. Inch by inch. Quinn watches me, his breathing shallow, and beads of sweat running down his face.

Sweet, sweet agony.

And it is for me too, but I want it. I want the lust to give way to so much pleasure that it’s almost too much.

Almost, but not quite.

I’ve never been so wet in my life. When I’ve got his cock halfway in, I lose my balance. Before I can recover, I slide the full length of him-every last inch of that gigantic fucking cock-inside me.

“Oh, God,” I cry out. The sudden tight fit and the friction of our bodies cause the still waters inside of me to swirl into a hurricane.

I lean forward and get on my knees. Try as I might to go back to doing it slow, I can’t. I need the release only Quinn can give me. I ride his cock hard and fast, yelling out without a care in the world.

But there’s something different. The build up to my orgasm doesn’t happen just in the pit of my stomach, burning between my legs. My chest quivers, and when I look in Quinn’s eyes again, I see what he means.

He loves me.

I lean down to kiss him. He responds in a frenzy, sitting up and opening me from the inside out with his lips. We melt into each other, hands clasped together. Quinn’s hands travel to my ass and he presses against me and pounds into me.

“Abby,” he moans.

“I love you, too,” I tell him, and it sends me over the edge, a cascading orgasm that feels like it lasts for minutes.