Left Drowning

“That’s my girl.”

I turn off the shower. “You and I have spent a lot of time together in water,” I say.

“We have.” Chris retrieves the towels that are hanging over the top of the wall and hands one to me.

“It’s fu

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“And … ?”

He hesitates. “I have a love-hate relationship with water.”

He has just voiced something that I’ve thought about myself many times. I take his towel and wrap it around his neck. He looks sad now.

“When you’re ready, you can tell me about that.”

He nods.

“Whatever you want to tell me, it’s going to be okay. You’re not going to scare me off. I promise you.”

“You say that now.” He rubs a hand over his eyes. “You say that now.”

“I’ll say that forever.” I hug him tightly. For the first time in a year and a half, I slide my left arm to the place on his back, the place where we fit so incomprehensibly perfectly. “I know what it’s like when we’re together. I don’t know why that is, but even here it’s happening. It’s because you were with me that I remembered this house before we went inside.”

“Blythe, I think that’s a little farfetched, don’t you?”

“Christopher, listen to me.” I put my hands on either side of his head so that he can’t turn away. I want him to really hear this. “When we are together, the world gets sharper, the past becomes unobstructed, and … the floodgates open. You can’t pretend that didn’t happen to me; you saw me reconstruct the fire from memories that I didn’t know I had. It’ll happen to you, too. You’ll reconstruct your own fire.”

“Now you listen to me. The future is sharper and unobstructed. That’s how the floodgates are opening.”

“Either way, I won’t leave. We ran away from each other before. Mostly, you ran. I’m ready for this now. Are you?”

“To move ahead with you? Yes.” He swipes his tongue over my mouth and whispers in my ear. “To take you to bed forever? Yes. To make you come in my mouth, to feel you writhe under me while I slide my cock inside you? Yes. To listen to you scream and beg me to stop because I can’t get enough of you? Absolutely. Am I ready to focus on giving you levels of pleasure that you’ve never even dreamed about? Yeah. I’m ready.”

I laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” He holds me against him. “I’m here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Reaching

I only have on a T-shirt, no underwear, but Chris is fully dressed. We’re in my bed, and I’m sitting between his legs with my back resting against his chest and my legs draped over his. The room is dark, but the television is on because some movie that Chris is obsessed with just started. We’ve been sitting this way for the last half hour since we got into bed not long after di

For the past month we’ve been screwing our brains out. And making love. And then screwing our brains out again. I’m concerned that I’ve become some kind of deranged sex addict. The good news is that we seem to be able to leave the bedroom long enough to scrounge for survival items, like food. And lube and condoms. There was the one time that Chris made Sabin go to the store and throw the box up to us through the window, but mostly we’ve done our own errands. We’ve given up trying to be quiet, although we sometimes replace our noise with loud music. Our other housemates seem to have developed a high tolerance for our noise level. The downside is that I’m not in much of a position to complain about the noise that Estelle and James make at night. And admittedly, they are sort of cute together. It’s fu

I turn my head a little to the side and feel Chris softly kiss the top of my head while his hand keeps teasing me with his soft strokes. Then he finally puts his hand between my legs, and I shudder. All he has to do is touch me once like this and my mind starts swimming. I picture us hot and fucking hard… . I think about how his cock feels as he drives into me over and over… . I want that heated moment just before he comes, when I’m grabbing onto him and we’re both gasping and moaning. It’s like I have a reel of porn of the two of us that plays over in my head. Flashes of what we’ve done. What else we might do.

Because he’s so good—so perfect—he makes me greedy and impatient. Maybe if he fucked me a few hundred more times it might be easier for me to stay in the slower moments. Even then …

But right now my endgame involves sweat, and cum, and plenty of noise, and I want to get there. I curl my hips up to push against his hand, but he pulls away a bit. Chris leans his head down and whispers to me slowly, “Don’t move yet.”

I drop my hips back down and try to relax into him. But then he puts his hand back where I want it, cupping my pussy and staying there. He says something that I don’t understand … and I realize that he’s talking about the movie. I don’t even remember the name of this film that he loves so much, but clearly he wants to watch it until it’s over. Which will take another hour, at least. Great. I decide that I better slow myself down, because he is going to make me wait for this interminable hour to pass before he gives me what I want.

But I can wait; I can calm down. I think.

I put my hand in his free one and squeeze tightly. He squeezes back. Finally, he touches one finger to my clit, just for a second, and then takes it away. He does this again. And then again. I try to distract myself, so I don’t scream by counting every time he touches me. He can’t do this forever, right? I get to twenty and give up, letting him do what he’s going to do. Then finally he starts to stroke where I want ever so slowly and gently, and I love this. It’s simultaneously hot and soothing, and he lulls me into a place where I’m not so rushed. Where I just want to stay like this.

He uses his whole hand, brushing against me again and again. His fingers touch everywhere lightly, never staying in one spot for more than a moment. And because he’s obviously trying to drive me insane, he every once in a while laughs at the movie we’re watching. He asks me something about the plot, and I realize I have no response because I can’t pay attention to anything except how he makes me feel.

Finally, unable to stop myself, I lean to the side and turn my mouth up to his and kiss him. God, he’s just a delicious kisser. I can’t get over it. I feel his tongue against mine while we kiss, teasing, and soft, and endless. Then he moves his mouth away and leans back as he takes my nipples between his fingers.

Now he’s done it. Just when he had me in a slow rhythm, my heart rate is back up, and I desperately need him. This drives me crazy, having him play with me like this, rolling my nipples between his fingers, pinching me, pulling… .

“You have to fuck me, Chris.”

“Not until you’re dripping wet,” he whispers back.

“I am; I promise you.”

“I’ll check.”

He takes a hand out from under my shirt and moves it between my legs. My breathing gets ragged as his finger moves inside me and then pulls back to glide across my clit.