Pulse (Contemporary new adult/college romance) (Club Grit Trilogy) (19 page)

“Come for me, baby, come for me,” he commanded. I knew better than to disobey the man that always knew what was best for me, the man that could bring me the best of pleasures and take away the worst of pleasures. I was so close, but there was something missing, something I needed first and I needed from him.

“Skylar, Skylar, oh, Skylar, Skylar!” I whispered as he traced down to my sex and started to pleasure the one spot that his cock couldn’t, the way we were positioned: so that he could press down on my clit and make me want to squeal aloud with pleasure, so that I wished we were back home in our apartment in our bed making more than love, making passion.

“Emma, I’m so close, I’m holding it for you, baby.” This was so unlike him: he usually lasted longer, didn’t have to hold back, but of course, we hadn’t had sex in about a week so there was lots of pressure that had built up inside of him. It was like the pressure that was inside of me, his dick the wrench that would loosen the valves of pleasure.

“Skylar, come for me. Please,” I whispered in his ear. It wasn’t a begging tone, it was desperate and commanding but it wasn’t begging.

And he had no choice but to oblige.

He gripped onto my hips as he released, his face contorting. “Ugh, Emma!”

“S-Skylar,” I stuttered as I gasped aloud. Was it just me, or was he cumming more, hotter, harder than usual? We hadn’t had sex in almost a week and this was what happened?

That must have been it.

Because that’s what was happening to me.

I had to hold onto his arms and lean in against his pecs, gripping his shoulders as he held onto my firm, rounded ass and pulled it up and down on his sustained erection that wouldn’t be gone for at least ten to fifteen more minutes, given his usual track record, trying desperately to bring me to a second orgasm if not a third.

But he couldn’t.

Not for lack of skill, though.

He was just
that good
.

So good
that my first orgasm wouldn’t stop. Maybe I had multiples, maybe it was one long orgasm, but the fact I couldn’t tell was a sign enough that Skylar was doing something right, and by something, I mean everything.

The warmth spread through me as if the grass was growing not from a field of dirt but a field of passion, passion I was now being exposed to and taking inside of my body as if I was Mother Gaia and the grass blades were feeding me pleasure. I had never had this sort of desperate fuck with Skylar, one out of need for pleasure rather than intimacy, and it was the kind of sex that I didn’t know if I’d want to have again, because it meant that I’d have to miss Skylar for it, and to miss Skylar would be to be without Skylar, and the fact I missed him so much and we had basically been locked at the hand all week, just not at the waist, scared the shit out of me. I had never expected to need Skylar so much, to care about him and our needs so much, and maybe Skylar was right, that I was getting more mature getting older, and becoming more and more of adult with every passing day...and night.

I wanted to call out his name louder but I knew it would call attention to us, it was bound to. This clearing was high but not that far from town and although it seemed like we were alone, that could all change with one misstep. I bit my lip as he kept fucking me from the bottom and playing with my nipples, making my pebbled nibs rock hard again before he sucked them to soften them, like the opposite of what would happen if I gave him oral pleasures.

As Skylar’s cum seeped out of me, I lay there with Skylar and rebuttoned my shirt. We were covered in grass and dirt and needed a shower but not before we looked up at the stars which were starting to peek out of the purple sky turning more and more indigo and then black as the minutes passed by like seconds, as they always did when I was in Skylar’s perfect, strong arms. We could make it back to the car, into a change of clothes kept in the back, and make it to the

But of course, showers didn’t just
happen
with us.

There were three bathrooms in my house: the one my sister and I shared, the one my brother used that was also a guest bathroom and the one Skylar had been using, and the master bath. Surprisingly, my sister and I had a really nice bathroom, with a large Jacuzzi tub my dad had bought from someone for cheap because they had accidentally received two from the company and the company let them keep the second.

Skylar and I tossed our dirty clothes into the hamper and felt very naughty about the fact we were about to do something my parents would definitely not approve of. They didn’t let us sleep in the same bedroom, so they wouldn’t be okay with us bathing together, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

After making sure my mom and dad were at the grocery store and then on the way to the football field (and telling her no, we didn’t need a ride, we had the car), Skylar and I started to run the bath and started the jets when the water level was high enough.

“Do you want to see something dorky?” I asked Skylar.

“Do I ever not want to? Let’s see it, champ,” he said.

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I sauntered into the bedroom, still nude, and knew Skylar was watching my ass as I walked away. I still had it, we still had it, the chemistry that was way more important than just looks, that push and pull, that game of cat and mouse that had flipped back and forth so many times that we were Schrodinger’s Cat and Mouse. It was anyone’s guess who was chasing who at a given point, impossible to pinpoint now that we had this symbiotic animal magnetism.

I came back with a device I placed on the counter and I turned off the lights, turning on the device. Colored checks of light covered the room as the device hummed.

“You have a mini disco ball? That’s not just dorky, that’s tacky,” he said with a laugh as he helped me into the tub.

“Ha, well, not all of us got to grow up in LA! It was the closest I had to the nightclub experience before I went to UCBH.”

“Well, you got to grow up in Iowa. And I’d have traded places with you any day of the week.”

“Isn’t it weird how things turn out?”

“It’s not just weird, it’s amazing. It’s great. If you hadn’t been born in this state, maybe you would have never wanted to go to California to begin with. Maybe you would have never met me. What if I’d moved out to the East Coast, to music school, like I’d dreamed of? I would have never met you. Everything ended up working out perfectly and that doesn’t happen...for everyone.” I knew who he was thinking of: Sandra. I knew now that it wasn’t that he’d loved her more than he loved me, but that he’d lost her, the way he’d almost lost me, but for real. There wasn’t a way to get someone back from the dead, there wasn’t a way to save them after they were that far gone.

But there was a way to keep what we had alive for as long as possible.

I leaned in and held Skylar, scrubbing his back with my pink loofa that I’d pressed some of my Philosophy soap into, the sugar cookie scented stuff that was for bath bubbles but okay for skin and hair too, and then I made my way up to Skylar’s head, rubbing the gooey stuff in until it foamed. Skylar laughed, and reached up to get some of the gel to rub into my hair and we washed each other back and forth as the jets went off, making it foam further, to the point that it almost covered us entirely. As I reached down to turn the jets lower, I didn’t find the dial.

I found Skylar’s cock.

My soapy, wet hands enveloped it and pushed it up, to where I could see it. This was the cock I’d wanted for so long, the cock that I’d worked so hard to get before, that I could have now any time I want: in our apartment, in the meadow, and hear, in the house I grew up in as a child.

I lowered my mouth onto it and gagged. The body wash stuff smelled good but it didn’t taste good.

“Are you alright, babe?” he asked, pulling me close to him and turning me around so that I was hovering over his lap. “You don’t have to do that for me, you know.” He reached around and found my sex, taking the loofa in one hand and scrubbing me with it down there, gently, before turning the jets higher and repositioning me so that they hit me right over my clit.

The water rubbed over me and I leaned back, holding onto Skylar for support in the slippery tub as I cried out his name: “Skylar, Skylar, Skylar.”

“Are you ready, baby?” he asked. He only ever called me baby when he fucked me, when he fucked me this way, to show me that he’d always be my man and I’d be his baby, that even though he’d taught me to be strong, it was okay to be vulnerable, to be at his mercy, to be bent to his will and made into something else entirely: his personal sex slave, his servant of passion, his lover, and other times, into a goddess of lust, into a full-fledged woman. This back and forth we had was intoxicating but not toxic, not this time.

“I am,” I said as I leaned back again. I needed him inside of me but right now, I couldn’t control the lower half of my body, the half that needed pleasure more than intimacy, the part that needed Skylar’s dick rather than his heart.

It was during that lean that he slipped it in: Poseidon’s trident, Apollo’s golden arrow, into my entrance. It was like an axe that turned me into a thousand splinters that reassembled themselves back into Emma but then back to splinters, then back to Emma. And then just staying as Emma.

Skylar kept rubbing my body and my hair with the shower gel and poof. He used the shower head attachment in the tub to wash me clean of soap before covering me in suds again, rubbing them all over me and making them into whorls of white,  and in that moment, we were the same, both covered in soap, his tattooed skin hidden under the water and my skin hidden in the dark, lit only by that cheesy disco ball light, still shooting rays into the room which was better than any VIP area at Club Grit because I was there with Skylar.

What I didn’t expect was for Skylar to take the shower head under the water, because it was like a handheld set of jets he knew he could use to bring me closer to the edge than he had in this entire extremely sensual experience, that had been full of rubs rather than thrusts, whether by necessity given the size of the tub and the bathroom or out of a need for intimacy.

But right now? With that jet under the water, pumping at its highest setting? Skylar was going to bring me to Orgasm Cliff and get ready to push me off the image, sending me into free fall with no parachute, no bungee cord, just the two of us holding hands as we entered the nether...of our nether regions.

“Skylar, oh, Skylar!” I shouted out, so glad that nobody else was home to hear me scream his name to high heavens, to hear me enjoy his dick in my pussy more than I enjoyed anything else, to be forced to accept fact that I was greedy for his cock and only it could satisfy me.

“Emma, ah,” he groaned, and he bit me on the shoulder to shut himself up. It made me gasp, bucking backwards, as I had another orgasm.

The way my pussy pumped on his cock, the fleshy folds taking in his shaft, both velvet soft and iron hard at the same time, was enough to bring Skylar to his second climax of the night, and this time, he’d lasted much longer, not bound to climax according to his body’s will now that the pressure had been released beforehand.

Skylar’s semen shot up into me and warmed my insides the way the bath had warmed my outsides, and I screamed out his name again. He held onto me so that my hips couldn’t buck me off of his lap, so that I would be locked to him for as long as he was able to sustain his hardness, so that I would be his and his alone in that moment, in that slice of time we could call our own.

As we got up and I pulled off of Skylar’s now softening member, I felt Skylar’s spunk slip out of me and into the draining water. I saw as the silvery white globules of cum floated in the bathtub like a mermaid’s lost pearl necklace. I wanted to be dirty, to take them and rub them all over my body so Skylar would have to clean me off again, but I knew that I had to let this chapter come to a close.

As much as I personally loved Skylar’s love juice, my dad would kill me (if he didn’t die first) if he saw that in the tub. I had to make sure to clean the tub before it was used again, but I’d do it that night. Right now, I had to get changed and get to the high school.

I checked my phone and saw that it was already a quarter to ten.

“Skylar, hurry up,” I called, and he scrambled in while stuffing something (his phone? keys?) into his pocket.

Fuck. We were going to be late. Skylar and I quickly changed into outfits close enough to the ones we had on before that we were sure my parents wouldn’t notice that we’d changed, and if they did, we’d just say that we’d gotten messy at the festival. I didn’t want to give my dad a heart attack.

We hauled ass to the high school’s football field, where we were supposed to be an hour ago to meet up with my parents who were going to stake out the best spot for us, with cushions, stadium blankets, and a cooler full of goodies. My whole family was there: my mom, my dad, my older siblings and their kids. As usual, the lady that worked in town hall and directed the town musicals led the town in the national anthem before the first sparks shot into the air. As usual, my mom tried to drink as much as my dad who stopped so that she wouldn’t make herself sick this year as she did every year, the only time of the year where she basically drowned her liver although as a petite woman competing with my bear of a dad, it was a futile effort.

But this year, Skylar was with us, and although he had to sleep in my brother’s room because my parents were old-fashioned, we felt closer than ever.

The last thing I’d expected was for Skylar to get old fashioned.

For him to get down on one knee after asking my father’s permission a few days earlier.

For him to pull out a small velvet box, and to present me with a ring: a thin, rose gold band with a heart shaped diamond held by two small hands.

“Emma, ever since I’ve met you, my life hasn’t been the same. At some points, it’s been worse when bad things have happened to you and I’ve had to learn to cope. At most points, it’s been the most amazing experience in my life. I can’t promise you it’ll always be easy, just that I’ll always be there for you because we’re living lives too exciting to live alone. Emma May Nelson, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?” was the most formal question I’d heard come out of his mouth, at least since he’d given me the promise ring I still had on my finger. “I promise that I will love you from now until the end of time, because you were the beginning of my forever.”