The Magic Within Ch. 04

As if to make things worse, my phone dinged with a text message from Matt. I didn't look to see what he wanted, reaching out only to turn the display face down on the coffee table. His messages from earlier this week had gone unanswered as well. And they will stay unanswered, I though with satisfaction, curling into the back of the couch and pulling the blanket over my head.

When I woke up next, the apartment was dark. I could hear the piano music still playing faintly from my bedroom.

"Cara."

I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. There was a shadow lounging on my balcony. My legs tangled in the folds of the blanket and I foundered like a fish caught in netting. Slowly, I got up and approached, my heart pounding loudly in my chest, making my breathing erratic.

"Matt?" I whispered, sliding open the glass door. Hope was a blossoming flower perched above my heart. Despite the cooler temperature, warmth enveloped me as I stepped outside. I smelled hibiscus again.

He was waiting for me, a silhouette in the moonlight.

I rushed the two steps over to him and leaped into his arms with a cry of joy, burying my head into the safety of his neck, breathing in the scent of him. He laughed, circling his arms around my waist as I peppered his neck with tender kisses. Oh, how I missed this!

"You smell so good. Like unicorns." His voice was a growl.

I ignored his teasing, focused only on the scent and feel of him. His hands cupped my buttocks and without a sound, he hoisted me up against him, my back pressed into the cold iron railing. I wanted to kiss him but his tongue was tracing circles on my shoulder, making my skin tingle hot and then cold. His lips nuzzled the space behind my ear, nipping gently.

"Is this the magic?" I wanted to lean back to look at him, but no sooner had the thought entered my mind than it was gone.

"Magic?" Matt murmured, his hands kneading my ass. He sat in the creaky plastic chair, still sucking on my neck. I could feel the ridge of his erection straining against the fly of his jeans.

Below us, a lone car meandered down the empty street. It was just the two of us and the whispering breeze.

My head felt foggy, almost like I was drunk. Drunk with lust. I wanted to look into his eyes and kiss him, but it was hard to focus my attention—I felt like I was trying to swim through a fluid thicker than water.

"Hey. Relax." Matt sounded irritated. His hands spanned my thighs, squeezing. "You're thinking too much."

I shuddered, surrendering, and let desire take over. It was like a feeding frenzy. Matt had never been demanding in bed when we dated, but now he was insistent. His hands roamed with a surety that had been sorely lacking when we were together, skimming beneath my flannel shirt to trace the underside of my breasts. His fingertips danced over my goose pimpled skin before latching onto my taut nipples, pinching lightly. I groaned, throwing my head back, savoring the sensation. A breeze sent a tendril of hair across my nose.

I must have been caught up in the moment because when I opened my eyes again, I was sitting in the plastic chair and Matt was kneeling before me, spreading my knees apart.

"Relax," he said again, and this time his voice was hard. I looked down. He had taken my pajama bottoms off. My thighs glowed in the moonlight. There was his dark head between them, there were his lips teasing apart the curls of my sex, and then that glorious tongue sliding against me.

I gripped his head convulsively, letting out a ragged breath, my unseeing gaze fixed on a point above the dark treetops across the street. Fuck, that feels divine. I hooked my thighs over the thin arms of the chair, exposing myself completely to the night air and his mouth, letting my eyes close again.

"I said I'd treat you, didn't I?" he asked when he came up for air, a finger delicately sliding through my folds.

I could only murmur an incoherent answer, feeling myself throbbing under his touch. He slid a finger into me, pumped twice, then replaced it with his tongue. My head hit the back of the chair with a thump.

His tongue dipped into my center and stroked me gently for a few moments before moving up to flick against my clit. The rhythm was addicting. I found myself waiting for him to massage my clitoris again, so that each time he did, the pleasure was more intense than before. It wasn't long before my thighs were trembling and I was squirming against him. Matt put his hands under my ass to steady me, guiding me up to that wonderful mouth like I was a plate of delectable fruit or the sweetest ice cream.

When he began to suckle on my swollen bead in earnest, I dissolved into a whimpering mess of frazzled, sex-starved woman. Pleasure came off me in waves, tightening all the muscles and nerve-endings in my body. I let it build, holding out for as long as I could. He felt my limbs tense like coiled springs though, and made a commanding noise in his throat, his fingers tightening around my thighs in a crushing grip. Relax.

He sent two fingers plunging into me at the same moment his flattened tongue swiped across me. My muscles clamped around those fingers as they plunged into me and withdrew, desperately trying to anchor them in place. It was too much to bear. I exploded into a million shimmering stars in that chair, my hands clutching his hair, my voice a ragged whimper.

In the aftermath, he rose before me, a black shadow, and I welcomed him with open arms, kissing his chest as he lifted me from the creaky chair and placed me on the cement floor of the balcony. Surprisingly, it didn't feel cold.

It was soil. I was lying on a grassy hillside speckled with flowers, warm as a tropical beach. But I only had eyes for the man in front of me. I wanted him so badly it hurt. When he covered me with his warm body, blocking out the moon, I could have wept. The head of his cock trailed wetness down my thigh before pushing at the entrance to my sex.

"I love you, Cara." He slipped his cock inside me. The stretch was delicious. I moaned, grabbing his shoulders. "I love you so much. I'm so sorry."

But I didn't hear him. He thrust into me again and again, and I didn't hear a word he said. All I cared about was reaching that peak again. He kept up a frantic, almost desperate pace, and my body sang his praises.

Gradually, I became aware of my head nudging against cold stone. I looked up, making out the curved outline of a headstone against the backdrop of night sky. We were fucking in a graveyard.

The fogginess in my head did not allow me to feel shame, but I scrambled up anyways. Matt pulled me to him, his cock still lodged deep within me, and swung me around. I caught a glimpse of the cemetery behind us, with headstones old and some very new.

"Turn over." He pulled out of me and spun my shoulders around so that he was at my back. A palm splayed between my shoulder blades and pushed. I hit the bare earth on my hands and knees with a yelp of shock, which quickly changed to a whimper of pleasure as he speared into me from behind.

"Fuck, Cara. Don't ever leave me."

"Oh my god, oh my god," I gasped into the dirt, my cheek smeared black from where I pressed into the soil. I loved it when he fucked me from behind. My pussy tightened, increasing the friction of his thrusting. From above me I heard a string of curses and renewed vigor. My body was coiling up again, ready to release.

A faint whine brought my head up. Lost in ecstasy, Matt did not notice.

The hillside we were making love on overlooked a glittering city at the edge of a bay. On the other side of the water, I saw the strobe of red and blue police sirens. A streak of flashing yellow and red was making it way out of the heart of the city. Ambulances? Fire trucks? In my Sominex-addled state, I could only stare at the column of smoke rising from the bay, coming from a line of train cars half-hanging off the bridge into the water. There was a lot of metal—twisted and black and smoking.

Matt was chanting again, his thrusts increasing in intensity. "Give it to me, Cara, come on baby girl. Relax. There you go." His voice was careful, controlled.

I shuddered once more, my head dropping back into the grass. I fought to reach my climax. Fought for it tooth and nail, until I could feel the tension in my body coil tighter than any spring, pulled tight like a finely tuned instrument.

"Fuck yes," he hissed behind me.

I shattered, suspended in the space above. From a great distance, I heard Matt yell. I felt him stiffen behind me, shoving his cock into my clenching center in that spasmodic way men do when they orgasm.

We both fell, I into the grass and him on top of me.

The concrete bit into my cheek, but I didn't care. I was limber and loose, mercifully blank.