28 June
This no longer feels like a room at all. This space has become the eye of a storm.
The perfect storm.
Inside me for the first time, Scott thrusts hard enough to shunt the bed against the wall. My calves cushion his bare shoulders, even though I didn’t know I could achieve such flexibility. Go, me.
Without breaking rhythm, Scott eases my legs back even further, so that his face is directly over mine. Sweat drips from his forehead and lands on my cheek.
He and I haven’t talked about an actual relationship yet, but now our eyes lock and I feel owned. Usually I end up with my eyes closed, afraid to show myself, but straight away Scott and I connect. I mean, we really connect, like we’re gazing straight into each other’s souls and feeling comfortable with what we see.
This feels a shade unnerving, but also pretty damn awesome.
As Scott pushes me closer and closer to oblivion, a feral smile stretches his lips. His eyes glow. And yet, during those frantic breaths before he follows me over the edge, that wolf mask slips to reveal the vulnerable guy from Tinder.
I can see that he feels owned, too.