Sweet Caroline

#9 I will miss you

"No, it's not," Nathan insists. "Most girls don't come from penetration alone. So, unless you're some kind of unicorn and you just came without me even noticing, you can't possibly be satisfied right now." His smile widens when he sees in my eyes that he's absolutely right. "Like I said, it's time to take care of you now, Caroline."

***

My body is exhausted to the point where I feel like I might cry. Still, Nathan isn't done with me. All the careful movements and searching glances from our first few nights are gone. It's the last night of our week together and we both know it. I'm in both mental and physical pain, so raw that I feel like I must be bruised and bleeding somewhere, but I still want him more than I ever wanted anyone.

Nathan forces me to my knees on the edge of the bed as he stands next to it, his hands positioning me right how he wants me. My head is down, my face buried in the blankets and my ass is sticking up, legs wide. He runs his hands over my cheeks, slapping them softly before pulling back and smacking his hand against me, making me gasp in both pain and arousal.

He's been working up to this all week, I can feel it. Every time he would try something new, hurt me a little bit more, always making sure that I was okay and not moving on without looking me in the eye to be absolutely certain that he was doing something I enjoyed. Now, on our last day, he evidently feels certain of what I want and how much pain fuels my desire. He's already fucked me twice tonight, harder than any day before this. My entire body just wants to collapse onto the bed and never get up again. Nathan, however, has other plans.

I groan into the blankets as he hits me again and again, rubbing my cheeks between hits, massaging me into blissful relaxation before causing that delicious pain to rock my body again. When my moans start to sound more like cries, he positions himself behind me and I hear the familiar sound of foil ripping as he grabs another condom from the nightstand.

He slams into me hard, not giving me any time to adjust to feeling him inside me. He grabs my hips so he can claim complete control of me, of the rhythm, of everything. Not that I have any energy left to fight him even if I wanted to. I just moan as he takes me for the third time and smile to myself when he comes, grunting my name.

When he pulls out, I slump down and roll to my side, panting. No matter how much I want to keep this up until morning comes, I know I can't. My jaw hurts from sucking his dick so much and my vagina is begging for me to stop, to give her some rest. I feel my legs tremble and spasm, unable to support my weight. I need rest.

Nathan collapses next to me, pulling me against him and rubbing my back in slow, drowsy motions. He's finally done. His nose buries into my hair and I hear him inhale deeply, wanting to smell me. I know the feeling. I've been trying to memorize his smell as well, that heavy cologne laced with a smell that is a hundred percent his, heady and seductive but hard to describe. The way he tastes like coffee in the morning, already on his second cup before I even wake up, making me waffles in his boxer shorts. How he grabs me at random moments to kiss me or squeeze my ass, just because he can. The exact color of his deep green eyes, darker than grass, sparkling like emeralds.

"I'm going to miss you," he breathes in my ear, his voice tight with an emotion I can't quite put my finger on. Regret, maybe?

"Me too," I reply, pressing a kiss to his chest, too exhausted to make my way to his lips. I want to enjoy the last moment with him, but I am almost too tired to even speak.

It was a strange week. We spent a lot of time in his parents' apartment, packing up their stuff. Whenever someone came over to pick up furniture, he made sure I was in my own place, hidden away from curious eyes. He made me feel like his dirty little secret and I didn't even mind.hHe made On the third night, we finally got around to discussing what the hell we were doing. I had been trying to get some more details about his life, yet he kept refusing to give them to me.