Only Between Us by Mila Ferrera

strip of fabric covering the place I really want to be.
    “Romy,” I try to say, but it comes out strangled, a word mumbled against her breast as she squeezes me through my jeans, mapping my boundaries and scattering my thoughts. My fingers move on their own, pushing her panties aside. She’s slick and wet. Good , I think. That’s because of me. I lift my head and pull her face to mine, and she parts her lips, inviting me in.
    So I accept the invitation. As my tongue explores her mouth, I slowly dip one of my fingers into her warmth, the slippery tightness tempting me deeper. Romy’s eyes fly open as she feels me inside her. Inside her. My fingers are splayed over the most sensitive part of her, my thumb pressed over her clit. Even though I know what I want, know what I’d do if I were in charge, I force myself to stay still. What do you want? If I had breath in my lungs, I’d ask. But I’m too gone to speak. I have no sense of time, only the hot scent of her in my nose, the pink tint in her cheeks, the fathomless green of her eyes, the scorching heat of her body.  More , I think. Give me more of you. Please.
    She lets go of the front of my jeans.
    And she presses her palm over the back of my hand.
    Her breath rushes from her lungs as I sink a little deeper. My body roars with crazy triumph as she urges me on. She’s got her arm locked around my neck, kissing me like she can’t get enough. Our teeth clack together with the desperation of it. I slide two fingers inside her and move, in and out, feeling her contract around me, wishing I could replace my fingers with my cock, but even as crazed as I am, I know that’s not a good idea for so many reasons. So I focus on her, on the soft, urgent sounds that come from her throat, on the way her slender fingers clutch at my chest and push up under my wet shirt. Her fingernails scrape against my bare skin. I feel the movements of her hips and match the thrust of my fingers to her rhythm.
    She’s soaked, but not with rain anymore. She’s to the point where she’s turned her focus inward, where she’s all sensation, right on the verge. Her movements are uncoordinated now, jerky and needy and wild. I pushed her there.
    And I’m going to push her right over that edge. I may have screwed up in a billion different ways today, but I can make this go right.
    I press my thumb against her tight, swollen nub and move my fingers deep as she pushes down against me. When I feel her inner walls spasm, I nearly come. She stifles a cry and buries her face in my neck, clinging to me as she writhes against my hand, totally lost in it. I think she whispers my name. I hope she does, at least. She presses her mouth to my collarbone, and then her teeth close around it, shooting streaks of painful pleasure up and down my spine.
    That’s when I do come, without any warning at all. I groan as my cock pulses, as my body lets go, losing awareness of myself and where I am and what I’m doing. I collapse forward onto her and wind up with my head on her chest. My fingers still inside her. Her legs around my hips. Her heart is like a hummingbird against my ear. Her fingernails are clawed against my back.
    I tilt my head to look up at her. Her head is resting on a package of oil pastels. Her hands move to my hair, holding me where I am, and her eyes are closed. She’s trying to catch her breath. Her body clenches around my fingers and her teeth scrape over her bottom lip, and though she’s just made me come in my pants like a teenage boy, the flames of want kindle again instantly. She opens her eyes and blinks up at the ceiling. I open my mouth to say … something. I have no idea what.
    I’m crazy about you?
    I don’t even know your last name?
    Can we please do this again?
    Footsteps thump up the stairs, and Romy gasps. I stumble back instantly, pulling myself from her and catching only a glimpse of her beautiful body before she leaps off my work table. Her foot lands square on a tube of