Trouble Rising(10)

By: Emme Rollins

“This bed makes too much noise,” I reminded him hoarsely, although my clit quivered just thinking about having him inside of me. We’d tried fucking the first night we were here, but the mattress squeaked like there was a mouse trapped between it, so we’d resigned ourselves to quieter versions of sex for the week, at least when my mother was home.

“I can fix that.” Tyler got up, taking me with him.

My mother had bought all new furniture for the “guest bedroom,” as it was now called—funny, my older brother’s room had been left exactly the same, but my room had become the “guest bedroom”—and that set included a bed, two night stands, and a long dresser with a mirror attached.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, glancing at the closed door as Tyler put his arms around me, edging me backwards.

“Fucking you,” he growled, grabbing my ass in both hands and lifting me until I was sitting on the dresser. It was the perfect height.

“Ty!” I hissed his name, my arms going instinctively around his neck, clinging. “Wait.”

“No.” His cock rode the seam of my slit, up and down. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

“Put my… what?”

Tyler shifted his weight, sliding his arms under my knees, forcing my feet up over his shoulders, folding me practically in half.

“Oh God, Ty,” I panted, but then he was inside me, filling me.

I moaned—not softly either—as he started to fuck me, deep and hard. The dresser rocked a little, but the mirror had been anchored to the wall, so there was no banging of a headboard, no squeaking of the bedsprings.

“Harder,” I whispered, meeting his eyes, so dark with lust it made me feel faint. “Fuck me, Ty. Fuck me harder.”

He did, driving deeper, bottoming out with each thrust. My clit ached and I reached down with one hand—keeping the other looped around his neck for balance—rubbing furiously. He moaned when I did that, hips pistoning into me like a machine.

“Gonna come,” he panted, voice hoarse. “Oh baby, I can’t… I can’t—”

“Yessss!” I hissed, my pussy already starting to spasm. I was so wet, I was sure my juices were dripping down the front of my mother’s new cherry wood dresser, and we were about to christen it even further.

“Come for me,” he groaned, fucking me so hard he forced my breath out in short, hot pants. “Come for me, now!”

I did, grinding back against him, my heels digging into his shoulders, feeling his cock pulsing deep inside of me. I felt every hot pulse of his orgasm, and I was glad that he captured my mouth with his, drowning both our moans of pleasure in a hard, desperate, greedy kiss. We shuddered and clung to each other.

Tyler grabbed my hips, letting my legs down so I could wrap them around his waist, and he carried me like that back to the bed. He didn’t slide out of me, though. He stayed in, putting me on the mattress, shoving me down with his hips as he moved on top of me.

“I love you, Katie,” he whispered, still moving, his cock only half-hard. “God, I love you.”

His words made me melt, brought instant tears to my eyes. I couldn’t imagine loving a man more than I loved this one. I felt sorry for other women, who didn’t have Tyler. And God knows, there were plenty who wanted him. But I was the one he wanted. I was the one he’d chosen.

“I love you, too,” I whispered back, welcoming the weight of him, wanting it all. I felt completely taken by him this way, when he curled his body around me and let himself rut deep, as if he could push all of himself inside of me and stay there.

His breath grew ragged in my ear, but his movements never increased. It was a slow, easy, delicious sort of fuck, perfectly timed and controlled. The bed springs didn’t make any noise at all, but I did, crying out when he made me come yet again, before he came again, too, whispering my name like the sweetest song in my ear.

We laid there for a while, just like that, connected, feeling whole and content. We probably would have fallen back asleep eventually, but then my mother knocked on the door.

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