I Always Will

Utterly Crucified

Riley

I can't lie in this position anymore. Six hours of limbs tangled with Row and the pain in my back is worse than it's been in quite a few weeks. Yet I can't move from this position, either. The pain is worth the smooth feel of her skin, the cloy of her scent, the heat of her breath.

What a metaphor for us. I'm perfectly paralyzed by the pleasure and pain of her.

I've been lying here for at least an hour now, acutely aware that this is the sixth anniversary of the first time I made love to her.

Well, let's be honest. Make love is a rather mild euphemism for what we did.

We fucked. Exquisitely.

I was out on a stretch of Strut shows with her and the girls. She'd slipped me her room key so many nights before that, but this time, with the taste of her mouth lingering on mine from the night before—a stolen half hour in their tour bus when every one else was at the afterparty—I couldn't stop myself. I stood in my room, staring at that key card, downing three gin and tonics and imagining her naked beneath me.

I went to make a fourth one, changed my mind and used the key card.

She was in the shower when I slipped into her room. I watched her through the glass, singing and shampooing her hair, until she noticed me. She didn't fright, didn't scream, didn't scowl. She opened the door, slid her hands along her wet naked breasts and said, "If you're finally here, you better make yourself useful."

Everything that had kept me from her for so long went down the drain. Worries about her age, her father's disapproval, what Trace would think, my business relationship with her—none of it was more than a sticky haze that washed away the moment I stepped beneath the water with her.

I fucked her slow but hard, her back against the shower wall, her legs wrapped around me. In that moment, there was nothing between us but a desire to get deeper in one another, to lose everything but the ecstasy of longing finally met with passion. We practically clawed one another trying to claim more of each other. I barely rubbed a thumb between her legs, she began crying out and shaking violently, desperately trying to keep a slippery hold on me as we shuddered and thudded against the wall.

After I opened a bottle of champagne and we stepped out to her patio hot tub. We toasted to what she claimed was the most incredible shower she'd ever had. We analyzed our shower fuck with a sort of dark humor. I told her if her brother fired me and her fathered had me blacklisted, it was worth the one moment of her walls clenching hot and tight around me. She laughed and drained the champagne, saying, "I've waited a long goddamn time for you. If this is just one night, you have a lot more fucking to do."

We started up again in the hot tub, her leaning against the side, me taking her from behind and alternately using the jets and my fingers to make her come. When she did, I dragged her from the hot tub before I finished and had her in the bed. I'll never forget the way she looked beneath me, silent and intense and completely shocked as I drove her to another orgasm with exploring kisses and whispered words and deep, decadently slow penetration.

She'd never come like that, she told me afterward, In a somewhat embarrassed murmur. By penetration alone, she meant. She didn't understand it was more than my cock that had made her come that time. For all Row's boldness and sexual experience, she'd never been with a man who cared enough to really attend to her. To shape sex into something more than the touching of genitals, but a mutual experience of sensuality and desire and emotion.

We slept with our heads at the opposite end of the bed, because her long hair had completely soaked the top of the mattress. Just like the other two times, I'll never forget the morning fuck in the grey dawn...her clinging to the end of the mattress, me holding her head in one hand, caressing her breasts as she writhed and I took her sideways and from behind.