Authors: Ranae Rose
Her core gave another one of those sudden clenches, reminding her of the pressure of the head of his dick against her clit, so close to penetration. That had been yesterday, and she’d been aching for him ever since, the feeling sometimes overshadowed by worry or stress, but only temporarily. Now, standing with his shirtless chest inches from her own body, desire hit her hard again.
“Filling your prescription won’t take long – you’ll probably be one of the first customers of the day,” she said, eyeing his bandaged hand. It was covered now, but she vividly remembered the redness and blisters hidden by the stark white layer. If he’d admitted that it was painful, he was probably in agony.
They went to Thompson’s, the town’s only family-owned pharmacy, figuring they’d get quicker service there than at a chain. Luckily, that turned out to be true – they left after five minutes, a bottle of pills rattling in the paper bag the pharmacist had presented Donovan with.
“It says not to mix with alcohol,” Clementine said, reading the warnings printed on the label stapled to the package, “and not to drive or operate heavy machinery. But it’s not like you could drive anyway, with your hand the way it is. Guess I’m your chauffer for the time being.”
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Well, it
is
the weekend…” She took the driver’s seat. “I thought maybe we could do something fun today. Like go on a picnic.”
“A picnic?”
“Yeah. You know, like we used to – take a backpack with some food, hike up that trail behind the quarry to the clearing in the woods… It’ll be nice, with the cool weather and fall leaves.”
It also would involve zero chance of running into Trevor or her parents. Like before, she and Donovan could escape to the wilderness bordering the small town, where they’d be beyond and above it all – alone, in peace. They’d made the hike frequently as teenagers – it had been a place of retreat, much like her grandmother’s house.
“All right.”
She smiled. “I was hoping you’d agree.” After the craziness and intensity of the past week, the outing would be like an eye in the center of a hurricane – or so she hoped.
“I’d agree to just about anything you wanted to do,” he said, staring out the window. “Hell, I let you drag me to the hospital last night, didn’t I?”
When they reached the house, Clementine opened the pharmacy bag for Donovan.
“You’d better not take this on an empty stomach,” she said, handing him the pill she’d just dumped out of the container.
They ate cereal, and she finished hers first. “I’m going to make sandwiches for our picnic.”
When she’d laid out the bread, the sound of rushing water came from behind – Donovan filling a glass at the tap. Silence reigned as he took the pill, then set the glass down on the counter.
“What kind of sandwiches are you making?” He crossed the kitchen and stood behind her, his breath hot on the side of her neck.
“Turkey,” she said as he laid his good hand on one of her hips, squeezing.
“Mmm.” His lips brushed her neck as he made a sound of appreciation – not for the turkey, if the hardness pressing against the small of her back was any indication.
She tilted her head to the side, exposing more of her skin to his mouth.
With a light kiss and lighter bite, she was reliving the day before, when he’d done the same thing in bed. Before she knew it, she’d dropped the mustard bottle she’d been holding and he’d slipped a hand beneath her sweater. Fingers searching, massaging, he pulled down the edge of one bra cup, teasing her nipple.
A head-to-toe shudder raced through her, charging her nerve-endings with delicious sensitivity. His fingertips were rougher than his mouth had been on her breasts the day before and the difference was thrilling as he pinched her nipple, inciting an answering ache in her core.
Like he’d read her mind, he slowly withdrew his hand from beneath her top, letting his fingertips settle on her jeans button instead.
She let him undo it one-handedly, liking the scrape and flutter of his fingertips against her lower belly. As he worked the button through its fastening, the shaft of his cock rubbed against the small of her back, so hard a shiver raced up her spine, then back down again.
When the teeth of her zipper finally split, Donovan slipped his fingers beneath her panties, teasing her clit for short, breathless seconds before pulling her jeans and panties down, all the way to mid-thigh.
Moisture dampened the folds of her pussy as he continued to abrade her neck with teeth and lips, his hand between their bodies now. When the noise of another parting zipper resounded, she braced herself against the counter, steeling her body for the smooth, hard rod of flesh that brushed her bare skin where her sweater had ridden up. The head of his dick was hot against her body and the memory of it against her tongue made her mouth water.
“What about the condoms?” she breathed as he cupped one of her ass cheeks, exerting pressure that urged her to rock forward, onto her tip-toes.
“Got one.”
She peered over her shoulder in time to see him pull something from one of his pockets, which had ridden down low on his thighs, sagging just like the waistband of his jeans sagged on his hips. His cock stretched rigid and flushed from between the parted teeth of the zipper, framed by dark hair that was half-hidden by his clothing.
“You can’t do that one-handed,” she said as he tore the square of foil open with his teeth.
“Give me a hand, then.” He let the foil flutter to the floor and held the condom aloft.
She turned around, pinched the tip and held it over the swollen crown of his dick, mostly because the thought of watching his fingers glide down his shaft instantly raised her body temperature.
She wasn’t disappointed. Her entire body hummed with anticipation as he rolled the condom to the base of his erection, fingers sliding over vein-roped flesh. “Turn back around,” he said. “Unless you want it up on the counter.”
“On the counter,” she said, sweeping an arm over its surface to push the sandwiches well out of the way. “I want to be able to watch you.”
He lifted her easily with one arm, setting her on the edge of the laminated surface and quickly pulling her jeans and panties all the way off. The counter was a little lower than his hips, but not so much that they couldn’t make it work.
Widening her thighs, she made sure there was plenty of room between them for him. Finally – God, finally – it was happening. She hurt her fingertips squeezing the edge of the counter, so ready for him to be inside her that it was painful not to have him there.
With one hand wrapped around the base of his dick, he guided himself to her pussy, quickly pushing past her folds and into her body, claiming the space he’d been absent from for so long in one bold, slow stroke.
“Jesus,” he breathed as her muscles wrenched and tightened around him, “Clementine…”
She gave him a deliberate internal squeeze, relishing the way it hurt a little, the way her body ached as it adjusted to his thickness.
He flexed his hips, rocking in and out of her with enough force that she tensed her legs against the cabinets below, needing more stability than her two-handed grip on the countertop provided. In and out, he fucked her with his head bowed, one hand on her hip, gripping her hard. When he pressed his face to her chest and bit one of her nipples lightly through her sweater and bra, everything inside her succumbed to one quick, wrenching contraction that promised more.
She slid both hands behind his head, burying her fingers in his short hair.
He raised his head, sealing his mouth over hers and slipping his tongue past her lips. The kiss endured for several hard strokes, until the intensity mounting inside her made her spine arch, tipping her face back, away from his. Without skipping a beat, he lowered his hand into her lap and began to stroke her clit.
He touched her there to the same rhythm he thrust in and out of her to, pushing her to the edge ten times faster than either activity alone would have.
The hard countertop had no give; every muscle in her body went tense against it as pleasure rushed through her core, making her pussy shrink around his cock. What they’d done the day before had felt incredible, but it didn’t compare to the bliss of losing herself with him so deep inside her, against her, on her…
Her muscles seemed to turn to jelly as her climax ebbed, and he stopped touching her clit so he could wrap an arm around her waist, supporting her as he finished with a few forceful strokes, burying himself to the root each time.
When he pulled out, she leaned back against the wall, sprawled over the countertop as the rush of being taken by him ebbed, marked by a slowing heartbeat and steadier breathing.
Unsheathing his still-hard cock, he tossed the condom into the trashcan beneath the sink. “Again,” he said when he turned back around, holding up his jeans with one hand but not re-buttoning them.
“Again?” He was still hard – that was clear, and though her thighs and arms were quivering, the word sent a thrill through her.
“Once isn’t enough. Not after seven years. Let’s go upstairs.”
* * * * *
“Too bad it’s too cold to swim,” Donovan said, standing at the top of the drop-off with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
A gust of fall wind rushed over the quarry, sending ripples over the dark surface of the lake that had formed in its depths and making Clementine’s nipples harden, just like they would’ve in the water. “My mom used to hate that I came swimming out here with you.”
She bit her tongue as soon as she’d spoken. Bringing up her family – what a dumbass thing to do. Her gaze strayed to Donovan’s bandaged hand, and when she looked up, a jolt of surprise hit her – he was smiling.
“Yeah, I remember you’d lie about where you’d been, but it couldn’t have been very convincing – your hair would be damp for hours afterward. Remember what we used to do down there?” He kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot and it plummeted to the water below. They were so high up that she could barely make out the ripples it sent racing across the surface.
“How could I forget?” Her nipples went a little harder at the memory of being suspended in brisk water, liquid lapping against her shoulders as Donovan thrust into her, the bottom half of her bikini pulled aside or removed altogether. The quarry water was too cold for some, and others considered it too dangerous a swimming spot, but she’d – they’d – loved it.
“We should get back into the habit. Maybe next summer, or late in the spring, if you’re brave enough.”
She play-hit his arm. “I’m not afraid of a little cold water.” Not if she’d be entwined with him beneath its surface.
“It’s a date then. For now…” He turned, facing the little trail that started behind them, disappearing into the woods. It began as little more than a deer path – a fact that meant it was rarely used – but after the initial sprawl of underbrush, it cleared into a neater trail, sheltered by a canopy of old maples, oaks and ashes.
She followed him into the woods. “The clearing will be a lot more private than the quarry anyway.” Having sex in the abandoned waters had always been a bit of a risk … which had been part of the thrill.
“I like the way you think.”
They didn’t talk much on their way up the mountain – there was no need. It had been a rainy summer, and the autumn leaves were lush with color as a result, blazing in bold shades of red, orange and gold, fluttering around them whenever a breeze blew or one of them bumped a branch. “I missed hiking,” she said, thinking of the rush of New York sidewalks and not missing her life there at all.
“Yeah. Me too. Florida was hot as hell, and swampy outside the city. Beaches were nice, but no way was I going hiking with the alligators and cottonmouths.”