whispered before they kissed again, moving in unison with each other until she tightened around him, closing her eyes, moaning at the growing passion. “Please, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she cried.
“Just feel,” he gritted, his thrusts harder and faster, his breathing ragged as he watched the emotions flitting across her face. “Let it go,” he whispered, kissing her, bringing his hand down between their bodies to caress her.
She cried out, thrusting her hips raggedly as he took her cries within him and met her, pulling out at the last minute to explode on the bed sheet next to her.
“Enlai,” she whispered, he had pulled her towards him, away from the wetness of their passion. “I’ve never felt anything like that,” she admitted, her limbs were still trembling, her breathing regulating itself.
“Are you alright?” He asked, caressing her hair, her back.
She shook her head, laughing slightly. “No and it feels wonderful. Can we do it again?” She asked, kissing his lips, his cheek, his neck and shoulders as she pushed him onto his back, her hands and lips flying everywhere, as he could do nothing except laugh.
“We can try, but it can take a moment,” he said but that did not still her hands. She did not care, she wanted to taste him everywhere, to find that pleasure with him again.
“Just relax,” she said and began nibbling on his neck, slowly working her way down, by the time she touched him intimately with her mouth he was ready for her once again and did not allow her to spend too long on him, pulling her up. He knelt on his knees, kissing her before pulling her on top of his lap.
“Ride me,” he demanded and she did as he commanded.
They stared at each other, on their sides facing each other in the dim light, Rain’s hands bundled beneath her face. “How long has it been?” He asked.
“Twelve years,” she said softly. “I was raped and I didn’t ever want to be touched again. Until you.”
He lips tightened. “Who was it?” He asked.
“He died.” She said.
“How?”
“I was just so upset, so mad, so hurt.” She admitted. “I just thought, he should not be allowed to live, to hurt others ever again. He had molested other girls, young ones; he was my foster mother’s son. He was pure evil, there was nothing alive within him. The next week he was run over by a car.”
“Did you do it?” He asked.
“No, run him over, no. I just wanted him dead, so badly. But when I found out he died, I felt horrible and I didn’t understand why I should care, I knew he had raped a seven year old girl. He’d raped another teenager. That place, that place was evil. The mother and the son were. I called child protective services, took the younger ones to a safe house, the mother went to jail. I left Boston and told myself I would never come back.”
He knew that bad things happened to the innocent, he’d seen that himself, been a victim of such. It did not make it any easier to deal with.
“How did you survive?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” she honestly admitted. “I just did.”
“I would have taken your pain,” he said, kissing her softly. “No more. I won’t allow you to be hurt anymore.”
“I don’t think you can stop it,” she said softly.
“I will.” He adamantly returned. “I will.”
They slept together for the night. She had never experienced such, had never slept so deeply and felt so safe and protected as he wrapped her in his arms while she fell even more. He woke her up gently, with kisses, making love to her again.
“I have to go,” he said, kissing her softly.
“I know,” she said, returning his kiss. “But I don’t want you to,” she admitted. She felt so free, open, almost forgetting why she was there, what brought him into her arms. “Go, now, before I embarrass myself even more.”
Chuckling, he kissed her again, dressing.
“Just feel,” he gritted, his thrusts harder and faster, his breathing ragged as he watched the emotions flitting across her face. “Let it go,” he whispered, kissing her, bringing his hand down between their bodies to caress her.
She cried out, thrusting her hips raggedly as he took her cries within him and met her, pulling out at the last minute to explode on the bed sheet next to her.
“Enlai,” she whispered, he had pulled her towards him, away from the wetness of their passion. “I’ve never felt anything like that,” she admitted, her limbs were still trembling, her breathing regulating itself.
“Are you alright?” He asked, caressing her hair, her back.
She shook her head, laughing slightly. “No and it feels wonderful. Can we do it again?” She asked, kissing his lips, his cheek, his neck and shoulders as she pushed him onto his back, her hands and lips flying everywhere, as he could do nothing except laugh.
“We can try, but it can take a moment,” he said but that did not still her hands. She did not care, she wanted to taste him everywhere, to find that pleasure with him again.
“Just relax,” she said and began nibbling on his neck, slowly working her way down, by the time she touched him intimately with her mouth he was ready for her once again and did not allow her to spend too long on him, pulling her up. He knelt on his knees, kissing her before pulling her on top of his lap.
“Ride me,” he demanded and she did as he commanded.
They stared at each other, on their sides facing each other in the dim light, Rain’s hands bundled beneath her face. “How long has it been?” He asked.
“Twelve years,” she said softly. “I was raped and I didn’t ever want to be touched again. Until you.”
He lips tightened. “Who was it?” He asked.
“He died.” She said.
“How?”
“I was just so upset, so mad, so hurt.” She admitted. “I just thought, he should not be allowed to live, to hurt others ever again. He had molested other girls, young ones; he was my foster mother’s son. He was pure evil, there was nothing alive within him. The next week he was run over by a car.”
“Did you do it?” He asked.
“No, run him over, no. I just wanted him dead, so badly. But when I found out he died, I felt horrible and I didn’t understand why I should care, I knew he had raped a seven year old girl. He’d raped another teenager. That place, that place was evil. The mother and the son were. I called child protective services, took the younger ones to a safe house, the mother went to jail. I left Boston and told myself I would never come back.”
He knew that bad things happened to the innocent, he’d seen that himself, been a victim of such. It did not make it any easier to deal with.
“How did you survive?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” she honestly admitted. “I just did.”
“I would have taken your pain,” he said, kissing her softly. “No more. I won’t allow you to be hurt anymore.”
“I don’t think you can stop it,” she said softly.
“I will.” He adamantly returned. “I will.”
They slept together for the night. She had never experienced such, had never slept so deeply and felt so safe and protected as he wrapped her in his arms while she fell even more. He woke her up gently, with kisses, making love to her again.
“I have to go,” he said, kissing her softly.
“I know,” she said, returning his kiss. “But I don’t want you to,” she admitted. She felt so free, open, almost forgetting why she was there, what brought him into her arms. “Go, now, before I embarrass myself even more.”
Chuckling, he kissed her again, dressing.
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