KILLING ME SOFTLY 𖣔 EUPHORIA [FEZCO]

2.7

"Don't stop!"

Priscilla slammed her hands down on the boy's chest, using all of her strength to straddle him.

"I'm going to come," Fezco breathed, gripping her love handles. He was attempting, desperately, to force her to slow down. As much as he kept telling her he was getting close, all it did was encourage her more. Her movements became more rapid, sloppy. Her gaze darkened and a smile began to spread on her ivory face.

"I don't care," The girl threw her head back, her stare focused on the white ceiling, "I don't care."

All Priscilla could think about in the moment, was how thankful she was her parents were not home. The pair continued to exchange moans, calling out each other's names in pleasure. They, obnoxiously, reached their climax together.

Fezco's fingertips tore and burned themselves into the girl's hips as he poured himself into her.

"Fuck," he breathed, his heart practically beating out of it's cavity, "fuck, fuck."

"I'm sorry," Priscilla apologized. She, roughly, used the back of her palm to push the hair from her forehead.

The boy chuckled, "Why are you apologizing?"

He looked up from her bare chest, to her beautiful face.

The shadow casted from her open bedroom window, caused an luminous white cast on her cheek.

He trailed over, admiring her freshly-bruised collar bone, with his hand

The teenager shrugged, her breath pushing together as her upper arms made the motion.

Her deep blue eyes staring back, "You ended, in me."

"Trust me," he laughed again, "I'm not freaking about that shit."

He repositioned himself from being within her, rolling her off of his now wet lap.

"I think you underestimate how long, I have been loving you."

Priscilla let out a fit of giggles, shaking her head in embarrassment.

Her hands clutched her red hot cheeks, "I can't believe the stuff I was saying!"

"Don't be embarrassed," Fezco cracked a smile, sitting up as she laid across his torso, "own that shit."

Priscilla's eyes fixated on the ceiling as he drew shapes on the back of her palm.

"Have you," she began, "spoken to Rue?"

"No," he simply answered, "she stopped reaching out a while ago. I heard she had gotten into some shit again, didn't ask the details. She stole from me, remember?"

"Yeah," Priscilla breathed.

Fezco let out a deep breath, carefully crawling from underneath her as he leaned over to the side of the bed.

He began to dig through his jean pockets, attempting to fish out his joint.

He grabbed a hold of it, using the lighter next to him on the night stand.

Priscilla allowed him at least get in a couple of hits, before continuing. "Do you, like actually know, what happened?"

He didn't respond.

The girl paused, feeling a sting of guilt for ruining their peaceful moment.

And possibly blowing his high.

"Rue was fronted drugs from Laurie-"

"How much?" He interrupted, taking another hit. She could tell by the way his chest heaved, up and down, his heartbeat was increasing.