Lisa
Her earlier statement is driven home when she finds her mark and sinks on top of me.
We both groan.
I push hard against her, filling and consuming. She's hot and tight and moans deliciously in my ear, causing me to respond with a low, throaty, "Fuck." With her fingers twisted in my hair, she guides my face to hers and kisses me. Hard.
Her own desire floods through me, and I thrust into her, the strokes hard, yet slow and deliberate. I fill her completely every time, holding nothing back. Her bare heels dig into my backside and her short nails claw at my skin.
But I can't see her this way.
I'm grasping her hips tightly as I push away from the wall, seeking a place where I can lay her down and see our bodies joined - where I can run my hands along her skin and worship every curve and dip of her body. As much as I'd like to take her to bed, I'm not so sure I can successfully carry her this way - still attached, still inside of her warm body - up the stairs, and neither of us is willing to part.
The kitchen table is closest. I set her down on the edge and she immediately releases my shoulder with one hand in lieu of propping herself up. I kiss her, and it's less frenzied this time. It's sweeter, slightly calmer. I push in and out of her almost instantly and she moans against my lips, her hand curling around my neck.
"You feel so good," she whispers against me. "So, so good."
I fill her with long, languid strokes.
"God, Lisa," she moans, throwing her head back, and I leave hot, breathy kisses along her exposed throat.
I shift her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the table, and press deeper inside of her. She's panting and she's close, but so am I. I'm not sure how much longer I can last, and I think of Hae-in and Ho-jin's saw and anything else I can imagine to ward off this building orgasm, but it's useless. She feels too good and I've wanted this for far, far too long.
Desperate to bring her with me, I reach down and begin rubbing her clit, causing her body to tense and her head to fall back once more.
"God, Lisa...I can't...I'm going to..."
"Come with me, baby," I plead, and she clenches her eyes shut and arches her back, forcing her chest towards me as she pants my name and comes undone. I keep my arm around her, refusing to let her fall back, and a few seconds later I'm following her into oblivion. Her hand grabs desperately at my cheek and guides my mouth back to hers, causing me to expel the last cries of my orgasm against her lips, and together we rest panting and spent on the edge of the table.
A light sheen of sweat covers both our bodies. Jennie is like jelly in my arms, and when I finally ease my hold she slowly lies back and spreads her arms out wide on the table. She's breathing hard and deep and smiling.
"That was awesome," she pants. She looks like she's just had the best sex of her life, and though I try really hard not to smirk, she makes it almost impossible as she lies there panting and grinning that way.
As I pull out of her she says, "Uh oh! Now something else is swelling."
I'm confused at first, but then I get it. She's talking about my head. The one on my shoulders.
"I didn't say anything," I protest, laughing.
She sits up and puts a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to her. We kiss, and it's slow and soft and sweet.
"You didn't have to," she whispers. "I could see it in your eyes."
"I'll keep them closed next time."
"Don't you dare."
We kiss again. I don't feel like I'm ever going to get enough.
It's not until I'm helping her off the table and she winces that the full wave of remorse hits me. I should have insisted that we go to the bedroom. I should have insisted that we go slow, that we take our time to experience and enjoy each other.
She didn't deserve frenzied and rushed. She didn't deserve hard walls and cold tables. She deserved sweet and slow and romantic. She deserved to have her body worshipped.
I run a frustrated hand through my hair. "I'm sorry," I blurt suddenly, and Jennie whips around to face me. She's searching for her clothes, which are several feet away.
There's panic in her eyes. "For what?"
"We shouldn't have done it that way," I explain. "We should have...I should have taken you to bed."
She visibly relaxes, and I'm confused by this reaction. Did she think I was sorry about us?
"Yeah, well, you were really in a rush," she jokes, bending to scoop up her clothes. "I know how weak you are for me..."
She's making a jab at me to change the subject. She knows what I saw.
I follow her lead and pull on my shorts, remaining shirtless. "I don't regret what we just did, Jennie," I assure her. "Or how we did it. I just don't want you to regret it. It should have been special."
She turns to look at me, and this time she looks hurt. "It was special. To me," she protests, and now I just feel like an ass.
"Fuck, Jennie. That's not what I meant at all," I hastily apologize. I pull her into my arms, and thankfully she doesn't protest. She melts into me. "It was special. Hell, I'd like to do it like that again and again. But I don't want you to think back to this time and wish there would have been flowers and a sunset and candles and-"
"Lisa?"
"Huh?"
She looks up at me. She's smiling. "You talk too fucking much. We just had sex and I'm tired. Now please stop worrying like a wuss and shut up."
I sigh, but I'm relieved. She's right - I worry way too fucking much. She's not upset, so why should I be? That was some of the best sex I've ever had.
"There hasn't really been anything traditional about us," she goes on. "And the sappy stuff is nice, but people usually spend so much time worrying over it that it sucks all the romance out of it. And I was literally going to die if I had to wait another moment. Mrs. Choi is nice, but she'll always be a cockblocker to me now."
I'm grinning. I'd do anything for this girl.
