Behind the Pitch, a novella: Seeking Serenity 1.5 by Eden Butler

wondered if she wanted this as much as I did. I wondered if she liked me resting on her, touching her, desperate for more, always more from this woman.
    Her expression was free of inhibition. There was open pleasure pulling her features, deepening her voice as I ground against her and it was there, in that moment, I fully realized it wasn’t just her body I wanted. To be sure, I wanted her desperately; to feel her tight body, to feel how wet, how hot she would become just from my touch. But as I watched her expression, I realized it was more than that. I wanted more from her. I wanted everything. I wanted this gorgeous creature to be mine.
    I wanted her to love me.
    I thought I could love her.
    “McShane, you’re fecking beautiful,” I said, trying to hide the emotion I knew snuck out behind my words. I was suddenly warm, hot actually, and tried to calm my raging heartbeat with quick pants against her neck. But that went buggering straight to shite when Autumn moved, pulled me closer and wrapped her legs around my waist.
    She didn’t want me to move one bit from her body. So, I obeyed, my hips working against her soft, hot center. And while my body moved, while my dick rubbed and ground against her and she clawed her nails down my back, I imagined that I was already inside her.
    Deep inside her.
    I imagined her deepest, wet walls clenched around me, throbbing, pulsing as I took her. In my mind, I took her hard, took her slow, always slow because I didn’t want it to ever fecking end, I didn’t want her to stop clutching me, squeezing me. I didn’t ever want to stop moving so deep that her head moved back, that those perfect, glorious tits jutted and moved as she came around me.
    Beneath me, Autumn moaned and I knew what she needed. Her pointed nipple was warm against my fingers and grew harder still when I pinched it, worked it between my thumb and forefinger. It was her undoing and I stared down at this gorgeous woman, my chest full of something I couldn’t name as her voice elevated, rose and her body shook as she climaxed in a shuddering release.
    Fuck me, I did that to her.
    Just the thought had my bollocks tightening, the sensation shooting straight to my knob and I moved against her faster, harder until, unbelievably, even with layers of fabric between us, I exploded into tiny shards of shock and release.
    I collapsed on top of her, pining her to the mattress, completely overcome by how hard I had come, how relaxed and sated this sweet creature looked.
    “Jaysus.” I tried not to be loud. If I was dreaming, I didn’t want to wake, not just yet. I wanted to be here, on top of Autumn, tasting her sweat slick chest, letting my heart return to normal beats.
    Did that just happen?
    I tried not to think on it too much. I needed McShane close to me, near me so this dream wasn’t over, so I rolled over and moved her to my chest, loving how easily she rested against me, how natural, normal it felt to have her dipped under my chin.
    “I’ve not done that since I was a kid,” I said, because it was the truth, because it seemed fitting.
    “Me either.”
    “McShane, you kill me.” My thumb immediately went to her bottom lip. “But fuck me, it’s a happy death.”

 
     
     
    Donovan has let me kip out on his sofa for days now. It’s a lump of a thing that makes my back ache and gives me a wicked crick in my neck. The only comfort I get at night is from my own pillow.
    I waited until I knew Joe would be off with his mates for poker night down at McKinney’s. Thursdays, eight p.m., every week like clockwork, and then I snuck into my own home and bagged up some clothes, my book bag and my pillow.
    For the first couple of days on Donovan’s sofa, I slept like a baby, mainly because my pillow smelled like Autumn. I cuddled with the barmy thing and let the scent of her shampoo, her perfume relax me.
    Jaysus, that makes me sound like a sad little wanker.
    Still, those first days, I got more sleep. But now, my pillow