Sage

57

Harry.

We're at the hospital.

Who would have thought we'd end the night here?

Strangely enough, we weren't here because of her. We were here because of me.

The EKG machine in the room next door beeped obnoxiously, accompanying the guttural cough from the man down the hall. With each tap of the nurses' acrylics against the keyboard of the cart she pushed around the floor, I visibly winced. The noises all came together to form the most irritating chorus of sounds possible.

"You shouldn't be standing," Ellie tells me pointedly, flickering her eyes from where I stood to the hospital bed, where the bed was still made and patiently waiting for my six-foot body to climb into.

"I've got work to do. Where's the doctor anyway?" I check the time on my smartwatch, "The nurse said she'd be here within ten minutes, and it's been fifteen."

"Calm down, and sit down. She's probably busy. It's a Friday morning."

It wasn't just a Friday morning; it was the Friday morning. Late night talking was due to be released today, and instead of spending the day in the office planning for it's arrival like I should be, I was in the hospital with an anxious Ellie.

She was completely fine, sitting in the leather seat next to the bed with her arms over her chest and resting over her bump. Her lips were pulled into their natural frown as she looked over at the door, seemingly annoyed with how long it was taking the doctor to get back as well.

I knew that me being here was mostly for her comfort, seeing as she felt partially responsible for the gash on my forehead, perched right above my left brow and stretching to the outer corner of my eye. I'd assumed an injury would come out of all the rabbit-like sex we were having; we were playing it dangerously close when we'd quite literally fucked our way from the living room couch to my room and eventually to my shower.

It seemed like all the sex we weren't having was suddenly being made up in the four hours since we'd gotten home from her birthday dinner, and I wasn't complaining. In fact, thinking about it now caused an involuntary smirk to twitch on my lips when I recalled the way her ass naturally bounced against my hip bones as I thrusted into her from behind, causing the most slippery, pornographic noise to echo from my bedroom walls, mixing with the sounds of our incoherent dirty talk. Getting closer to her orgasm, she began to bury her face into the pillow, involuntarily sliding her body down and making me grab her by the hips to prop her back up on her knees as I taunted through grunts, "Don't run from it, baby. You're gonna take it like a good girl, yeah?"

Her whimpered response- a drawled out "fuck"- echoed through the walls of my head, sounding as clear as day.

We'd moved from there to the shower, where the showerhead finally seemed to come in handy for me. It was new to both of us, it being our first time trying the tool. I could still feel the way her wet body whimpered and shivered against mine as I held her in place, biting and nipping on her ear while the warm water stream hit her in all the right places. It was her third orgasm for tonight, and I knew it wouldn't take long before I could have her moaning and slippering in my arms once more. I'd begun to get greedy, reveling in the feeling of her while my mind continued to fantasize about planting my seed inside of her over and over again. It was knowing that she was mine and I was the one to fill her up as much as I wanted to gave me a feeling I couldn't place.

She was a fucked out mess when we were done but still joked about another round once we got to the bed. The bathroom was covered in steam and humid in our sexual acts when she climbed out and vowed to meet me once I finished cleaning myself off.