The Persistence of Memory

Chapter Fifteen

Eloise

The sound of my voice screaming his name sounds alien. Not inhuman. Just like an entirely different person. It doesn't sound like me.

The sound he makes as he thrusts, his size, the scent of him — so utterly unlike Oliver in every way — makes me feel apart from the moment. Another out-of-body experience. I feel dizzied and faint, my brain about ready to break apart.

Pinning me against the wall he continues to move in deep long strokes inside me — powerful thrusts which threaten to split me wide open. It's not painful but I feel it should be. I feel like this should hurt, that it's what I deserve. But it doesn't hurt. Far from it. He feels warm and comfortable. Like a deep deep itch that's finally being scratched. It feels soothing. He feels soothing.

His mouth finds mine again and I bite hard on it, thinking that at least one of us should hurt. I'm not sure if this does hurt him because all he does is groan louder, thrust harder — the exquisite feel of him pulling me further away from myself, further into him. He grits his teeth with the strain of holding me and fucking me but he doesn't slow and he doesn't waver, his arms strong and reliable. Slowly, I feel my insides begin to thrum and vibrate, and as though he's responding to it he quickens his pace, faster and deeper, harder, rougher. Deep male groans ripping from his throat on each inward push, my insides scattering a little more.

His teeth scrape at my lips, his tongue licking my mouth, biting, sucking, growling. Greedy desperate motions that tell me he's on the verge of losing control of this. Sudden and shocking is the feel of my own orgasm. There's no warning for it, not like there usually is. It's quick and unexpected and I push against him but it's not to push him away, it's to intensify the friction between our bodies, the delicious agony that is his cock deep inside me. As the white-hot pleasure washes over me I grip onto his shoulders, my nails digging into the flesh, and ride him harder.

I open my eyes to find him watching me transfixed, his body still moving rhythmically into and against my own, but completely focussed on my climax. Then I feel it. His entire body tenses and begins to shudder, trembling with the rise of his orgasm. With one hand wrapped almost possessively around my neck, I feel it shudder through his whole body. He pulls my head towards him and smashes his mouth against mine to kiss me again he empties himself inside my body.

Stretched moments of panting against each other's mouths, licking each other's tongues, biting each other's lips. His orgasm seems to last hours. Hours of him saying no words, hours of me saying only one over and over — his name. Hours of him throbbing inside me, comfortable and warm. He's settled so deeply inside me, so snuggly, that it scares me a little thinking about how empty I'll feel when he leaves me.

As his body and breathing slow, he breaks away from my mouth and lifts his eyes to meet mine. His grey-blue eyes glitter with lust and satisfaction, but almost instantly his expression changes. The look that comes over his face then is horror.

"Eloise, what's the matter?" He asks, afraid. "Why are you crying? No, fucking hell, no." He goes to withdraw from me but I tighten my thighs around his body to hold him inside me. I'm crying? What the hell?

"What? No, I'm fine, I just... I don't know." I lean forward and press my mouth gently to his, hoping it backs up my words. "I'm fine. I promise I'm fine." I try a weak smile before lowering my head to bury my face in his neck. His scent is strongest here I think. Cleanliness and cotton with a masculine sweet undertone not unlike talcum powder. It floods into my bones relaxing me, softening and mellowing them further.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, his voice scratchy and raw with fear. "Fuck, Eloise, please tell me I didn't hurt you?" I feel the soft touch of his mouth against the back of my neck. A comforting desperate gesture.