Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(18)

She even locked the door when she took a shower earlier.

I sit on the edge of my bed and contemplate the night before, going over every single move in my head, wondering where I went wrong. The only thing I can conclude is that I did nothing wrong. I did everything right, and this scared her, because she’s not used to guys taking control over her. I made her feel weak.

She doesn’t like to feel weak. She obviously has serious power issues and I messed with her head. This should probably make me feel guilty, but actually I’m proud. I love that I got to her. I love that I’m slowly figuring her out. And the best part is, I have a feeling that she’ll be coming back for a repeat. Maybe not tonight, but she’ll be back, because she’s human. Every human has a weakness and I think I just discovered what hers is.

Me.

I crawl under the covers and close my eyes, but I can already tell I won’t be able to sleep. It’s as if last night awakened this hunger inside of me and if I don’t feed it every night before I go to bed, I’ll never fall asleep. I count sheep, I count stars, I repeat Bible verses in my head that I learned when I was five. None of it works, because I’m still here an hour later and I’m still wide awake.

I wonder if she’s awake.

I wonder if she would open her door if I knocked.

I toss the covers off and begin to walk to my door, but immediately U-turn to the nightstand for a condom. All I have on are boxers, so I slip it beneath the elastic band and open my bedroom door.

Boobs.

Her boobs.

They’re right here.

Her hand is in the air, poised to knock on my door. She looks just as shocked that I opened it as I am that she’s standing here. She’s wearing a black lace bra and the tiniest pair of panties I’ve ever seen in my life. She lowers her arm and we stare at each other for a solid five seconds before I’m pulling her inside, slamming my door and pushing her up against it. Her tongue is in my mouth faster than I can slip my hand beneath her bra.

“Is this what you sleep in?” I say against her mouth, pulling the straps of her bra down.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. She tilts her head and pushes my face against her neck. “But sometimes I sleep naked.”

I groan and press myself against her, ready to sink myself inside of her. “I like it.” I spin her around until her chest is pressed against the door and her back is to me. I wrap my arm around her and grab one of her breasts while I slide my other hand down to her ass. She’s in a thong. A teeny, tiny, black, lacy, beautiful thong. I rub my hand over her and then slip my fingers beneath the thin veil of fabric, pulling it down to her knees. I watch as her thong falls to her ankles and she kicks it aside.

I position myself directly behind her and run my hands down her back and to her waist. “Put your palms against the door.”

She doesn’t move them right away. I can feel her hesitation. I’m sure she doesn’t want to hand over control again, but she needs to realize she lost control the second she showed up at my bedroom door.

I watch as she slowly presses her palms against my bedroom door. I lean forward and brush her hair away from her neck, dropping it over her shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper against her neck. I pull her hips until she’s flush against me, and then I remove my boxers and open the condom.

“Bend over a little more,” I tell her.

She does. She’s such a fast learner.

I wrap my fingers in her hair and twist my hand around until I have a fistful of it, and then I tug just enough to get her to lift her face. She whimpers when I do this, and that little whimper is all it takes for me to push into her, as far as I can go until she’s completely full.

“Make that sound again,” I whisper.

She doesn’t, so I tug at her hair. The noise escapes her throat and it’s so beautiful and full of desire. I pull out and push back into her, and the same sound passes her lips. I can’t take it. I don’t know if I can do this standing up, because that sound is making me dizzy.

I cover one of her hands with mine and squeeze, giving myself the wall support I need to continue moving in and out of her. Every time she whimpers, I push into her a little bit harder. She begins to whimper, over and over, occasionally replacing that sound with my name, and I already know I’m gonna sleep like a rock tonight.

Right when I feel myself growing close to release, I pull out of her and reposition her so that her back is against the door. I lift her legs and wrap them around my waist, sliding back inside of her with ease. I keep one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her up and my other hand pressed against the door for support. My tongue is fighting hers, and I’m swallowing every sound she’s willing to give me.

Her hands are gripping my neck, so I reach behind me and pull one of her hands away. I press her palm against her chest and slide it slowly down her stomach. My forehead meets hers, and I look her hard in the eyes. “Touch yourself.”

Her eyes grow wide, and she begins to shake her head. I place my hand on top of hers and I look down at where are bodies join together. I move her hand a few more inches until her fingers are right where I want them. “Please,” I breathe out, desperately.

I need my hand for support, so I pull it away and press it against the door beside her head. I’m still holding her around the waist with my other arm and slowly pushing in and out of her. Our foreheads are still pressed together, but now my eyes are planted on her hand as she timidly begins to move her fingers in a slow, circular motion.