To the Light { a joel miller fanfiction }

Chapter Six - Gravity

"Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps."
— Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XI

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"One more, baby, I know you can give me one more." He assured her, two fingers buried in her pussy, pressing up and hammering into that soft, spongy spot that made her scream, made her spill sweet arousal all over his palm.

He was fucking insatiable.

Since that first time he'd fucked her in her kitchen and on her couch, he hadn't stopped, couldn't stop. He'd made her cum in every room of her house, his house, he'd almost fucked her in her classroom last week after the kids had left to go home, but she'd deemed that inappropriate, so he'd dragged her back to his house and fucked her right there in the entryway.

Whatever it was inside of him that had known her, had been silently searching for her his entire life, it demanded more, more, more, more. He needed her all the time, needed her soft, pliant body under his, screaming his name, needed to be buried in her perfect pussy as often as he could, needed to memorize the sounds she made, the way her pretty face would contort in pleasure each time he made her cum.

Part of him worried he was too much, demanding too much, taking too much, but each time that he reached for her, she was there, open, and eager, clawing at him in the same desperate manner.

His perfect girl. Maybe not his, at least not in the all-consuming, absolute way he wanted her to be, but she felt like his when she was here with him like this, naked and screaming his name as he made her cum on his mouth and his fingers and his cock. When she was here with him like this, he could forget about everything else, forget who he was, what he'd done, all the reasons why he didn't deserve her, why she would hate him if she knew the man he truly was. It was impossible to focus on anything else when he was consumed by her.

"J-Joel." She cried his name, all broken and pleading as she dug her blunt nails into his back. "It's too much— too much— I can't—"

"Yes, you can." He growled, leaning down to nip at the soft, fragrant skin of her neck. "I can feel you, baby, you're close, just give Daddy one more."

One more, one more, one more, never enough.

He never thought he could want someone this much, all the time, at his old ass age, nonetheless. But of course it was her that he wanted like this, needed like something vital, how could it be anyone else? Her name was carved somewhere in his chest, on his bones, deep in the fabric of his soul, if he still had one of those.

"I'm gonna count down from ten, and when I get to one, you're going to cum for me." He demanded, watching as her pupil-blown eyes widened.

"No— no Joel— I can't."

"You can." He nodded, "Ten."

She whined, digging her nails deeper into his back, the dull pain made him growl.

"Nine."

He maneuvered his hand, so his fingers were still buried in her pussy, but he had leverage to circle her clit with his thumb. She wailed at the contact, her cunt clenching his fingers tighter.

"Eight, don't cum before I get to one, baby." He warned, his other hand reaching up to take the heavy weight of one of her tits in his palm.

"Seven."

She was whimpering, breathing heavily out of her nose, pretty eyes nearly crossing as he felt her getting closer.

"Six, you're doing such a good job, honey."