Beside You Ch. 24: Connect

Chapter Twenty-Four: Connect (Mature)

It was a little funny to me that he asked me about food.

Wait, while he was in his right mind?

Michael got off of the bed and went for his pants.

I awkwardly watched him as he went through his phone.

He did ask about food, right?

I was so confused.

My mind was all over the place right now.

Did we even do what I think we did?

I glanced down again, and I forced my legs closed as tightly as possible.

It already felt like a dream.

A weird naughty one.

Michael walked into the bathroom.

I laid flat on my back, and I stared up at the ceiling.

Was the bed this soft before?

It felt strange to be naked, but then again, not completely naked.

I glanced down at the black bra that matched the lost underwear.

Did he not want to take it off yet?

We were in a little bit of a hurry.

My head rolled to the side to stare at the wall that shielded the bathroom from view.

Instead, all I saw was a strange painting of a puddle and what looked like a human leg sticking out of it.

I hope it wasn't some weird murder memento.

That was the last thing I needed to be thinking about right now.

My head shook as I frowned.

This wasn't it, right?

We weren't finished?

My gaze dropped to my breasts again, and I had an idea.

I sat up and unclasped the boob prison.

It already felt better removing the damn thing.

The only good thing about bras was the way they made your tits look.

I tossed the bra off the side of the bed.

The door closed, and I saw Michael again.

He had a hand towel in one hand and his phone in the other.

He glanced up at me, and I think he forgot what he was about to say.

His gaze went over my exposed skin, and I felt heat follow the path his eyes went.

"We're not done?" I asked, "Are we?"

His eye twitched just slightly.

It was probably my imagination, but I think I heard something snap.

"Michael?" I asked once I realized I wasn't going to get a response.

His eyes finally met mine.

"Food is on the way," he said.

He barely spoke loud enough for me to hear.

"Okay," I said.

I felt his eyes wander again.

It felt a little like he had a thing for my birthmark.

Either he liked it, or he just found it interesting.

"You're staring," I stated.

"And you're not?" he asked back.

He didn't sound angry in the slightest. His tone held more interest than anything.

I've been avoiding it, honestly.

"You've told me so many times before not to," I admitted, "I'm finding it hard to break that habit."

"You can look all you want," he said, "I would say touching is another thing, but if we're really doing this…."

He stopped himself before he could finish.

"If we're doing this," I supplied.

"If we're doing this," he said reluctantly, "Then touching should be okay."

"Should be?" I asked.

He glanced away.

"You don't like being touched?" I asked.

"In the moment, it feels good," he admitted, "But I don't typically enjoy being touched."

"Okay," I said.

He met my gaze again.

"That doesn't bother you?" he asked.

I shrugged, "You only told me not to ask about your scars."

He looked a little surprised.

"Some touching should be alright," I said, "I don't plan to rub every inch of you."

He smirked, "You don't?"

"Do you want me to touch you?" I asked.

"I like the idea of you touching me," he said, "Reality might be a little different."

He was being honest at least.

"That's okay," I said, "If you find something you don't like, we just won't do it."

His brow arched at my words.

"Why does it sound like I'm the virgin in this situation?" he asked.

"Did you ever talk about what you liked or didn't like with the girls you slept with?" I asked.

He frowned.

"Sorry," I said, "Fucked."

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked.

"No," he stated, "I didn't give them the chance to know much of anything about me."

I guess that made sense.

"The less some of them know," he said, "The better."

"And you're okay with me knowing these things?" I asked.

His expression softened, "You don't need to seek reassurance, Ren."

It feels a little like I do.

He's been with so many people. He knows what he likes and what he doesn't.

He knows how to do things I haven't even heard of.

I didn't want to be afraid to actually look at him.

Maybe the reason I kept avoiding actually staring was because I was afraid he would leave.

He's made it sound easy to leave other people.

It still bothered me when I think back on the words Steven said.

He won't love. He would probably leave before he felt anything real.

I didn't want to be afraid anymore.

I wanted to stare.

I wanted to see the tattoos I barely caught glimpses of before.

"Michael," I whispered.

"Ren," he said back just as quietly.

"I want to look at you," I admitted.

He held his arms out, and I noticed the muscles in his stomach tighten.

"Just because I'm letting you look doesn't mean I don't get self-conscious about it."

It was a strange thing to hear him say.

If I had to say anything about Michael's appearance, it would be that he was beautiful.

In a weird marble sculpture kind of way too.

He wasn't too muscly, but you could see how strong he is.

He curved in a way that made him attractive to the eye.

Fuck, I was being weird.

"Turn around," I said.

"You want to see the back?" he asked, "When you have this here?"

He gestured to the thing between his legs.

"Yes," I said.

He grinned, "Suit yourself."

When he turned, he showed me his left side.

The tree turned with his body, curving to the right side of his body.

I didn't realize just how massive the tree tattoo really was.

It took up nearly half of his back and some of his right shoulder. The branches I could see on his neck always made me wonder about the rest of the tree.

It started at his left hip, made its way up his side, and curved under his pectoral.

It was certainly something.

It took me a minute to realize the small bird on one of the branches on his back.

"Michael?" I asked, "Did you know that there is a blue bird on your back?"

"Yeah," he said, "Why?"

It just seemed a little out of place.

The tree itself was blacks and grays, but the bird was blue and black.

It looked a bit like a sketch of a bird that got colored afterward.

"I don't know," I admitted, "I just wondered what it was doing there."

"It's for Benny," he stated.

I wasn't sure how to take that information.

"It's cute," I said.

He was quiet for a minute before he spoke again.

"It…" he hesitated, "Doesn't bother you?"

Did it bother me?

He had a tattoo on his body for a girl he was in love with?

It felt like it should.

It honestly didn't.

I know how he feels about her now.

"No," I said, "It's nice."

He turned to look at me, and his expression confused me.

He looked worried.

"Really?" he asked, "It doesn't?"

I shook my head.

He pointed to the tattoo on his right arm, just under the bend.

"This one is for Gus," he stated.

It looked like an eyeball hidden in a nest of torn flesh.

It was cool, but I never really had the chance to see it before.

He pointed to the butterfly on his pelvis, "A dare."

I nodded. I have mine from that same dare.

He wouldn't tell me about his scars, but he had no problem telling me about his tattoos.

"The one on the back of your leg?" I asked.

"The Phoenix?" he asked.

I nodded.

He shrugged, "I just like them."

"Really?" I asked.

"You know the cheesy 'it's my spirit animal' line?" he asked.

"You're joking," I said.

He shook his head.

It looked nice though.

A black Phoenix in front of a red one. Wings spread.

Tendrils of red and black mixed together under the birds.

"And the tree?" I asked.

He frowned, "I got it for someone I don't talk to anymore."

It's a pretty big fucking tattoo to get for someone.

If he loved Benny as much as I thought he did, and her tattoo is a little bird… who was the tree for?

Could it be for his mother?

It didn't feel right to ask.

I decided to try and lighten the mood a bit.

"Which one hurt the most?" I asked.

He glared, "Which do you think?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

I guess he had a point. The tree, obviously.

"How about you?" he asked, "Would you get any more?"

I didn't even have to think about it.

I nodded.

He smiled this time.

"Good," he said, "You never know what might happen in the future with the three of us."

I knew bets led to some pretty harsh punishments, but that was fine.

I didn't want to think about that right now.

"Michael."

He met my eyes with his curious ones.

"I want to touch you," I said.

His body sort of curled in, as if he was self-conscious.

"You want to touch me?" he asked, "Or you want to be touched?"

My body tingled at his words.

"Both," I said.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Very sure."

There wasn't a single doubt in my mind that I wanted Michael. I wanted him however I could get him.

He stared at me for a minute to gauge just how serious I was.

I think he realized I was.

He tossed his phone on the floor and made his way to the bed.

His knees touched the mattress, and slowly he crawled closer to me.

My heart hammered in my chest.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I asked.

"I think it's a little late for that," he chuckled.

I was quick to hold my hand up, "No, it isn't."

His dark blue eyes locked with mine, and it felt like we shared a moment.

It was quiet, but I felt like he was trying to tell me something.

"Michael?" I asked.

"If I wasn't okay with this, it wouldn't be happening," he said.

I nodded.

His gaze dropped, and I watched as he ran the white hand towel over my thigh.

The cloth pressed down softly, but his rubbing was a little rougher than necessary.

I could feel the slippery wetness spread with the rag.

My legs tried to shut instinctively to the strange sensation.

Michael didn't let that happen.

I felt the heat of his hand as it forced my leg to the side so he could find his place between my thighs again.

He didn't even touch me anywhere else yet, but I could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

I wanted it.

My body arched forward to finally make contact with him.

He groaned.

"I was just trying to wipe you off," he said.

It was strange to watch, but I saw him getting harder.

"I thought we were going to continue what we were doing before," I said.

"Is that what you thought?" he asked.

His voice dropped an octave, and it made my thighs tighten just slightly.

"Oh?" he asked.

He must have felt me starting to tremble.

"So you really wanted me to touch you," he purred.

His right hand went to my knee before roughly making his way up my thigh.

I groaned.

"That feel good?"

I nodded.

"I didn't quite catch that?" he asked.

He did the same with my left thigh.

I don't know where the towel went. It's like it vanished.

Was it hot in here? His hands felt like they were burning my skin.

"Yes," I gasped, feeling him grip my hips.

"You like a little pain?" he asked.

He dug his fingers into my skin hard.

"I do," I moaned.

"That's good," he said.

His hands started to go up, and he crawled over me, forcing me to lie back.

This was new.

He was over me on the bed, and his hands went up my stomach roughly.

My back arched, putting my breasts closer to him.

My body was pleading with him to touch it.

His hands stopped just under my bust.

My eyes were so focused on where we connected that when he pressed his lips to mine, finally, I was caught off guard.

It was a soft kiss at first, then it got hungrier.

His tongue flicked teasingly over mine, and I couldn't help but groan.

He pulled back slightly to look at me.

His hands made that final leap and gripped my breasts.

His hands were larger than I thought they were as he held my bare chest in each palm.

"Michael," I whimpered.

He let out a low noise as he pressed his body down on mine.

The weight of him alone made me ache.

He was on top of me. He was pressing himself down.

I felt his dick on my pelvis.

Was it supposed to feel that hard?

I think I was starting to freak out a little.

He gently sucked my top lip before he pulled back.

I didn't think my body was okay anymore.

I've felt the ache for more before.

This was nothing like that.

This ache was like a desperate longing.

Hunger mixed with feral desire.

It felt a little like starvation.

A need so desperate for something that it became all-consuming.

It was more than a want now.

I needed him.

"Michael," I whined.

"I know, baby," Michael purred, "Just bear with it a little longer."

My body couldn't handle it.

It was something else before. This was different.

Michael leaned to his right, holding himself up with his right hand.

I looked down to watch his left hand drop to where I needed it most.

I needed him to rub this pain away.

This wasn't the kind of pain I could handle.

His finger made contact with my clit, and my hips jolted forward.

"We can't have that," Michael said.

He pulled away from me, taking his warmth with him.

I went to get up with him, but his hand pressed down on my stomach.

He shook his head disapprovingly.

My body clenched at the sight of him in prime entering position.

Even though part of me knew that he wasn't going in right away, my body still reacted.

His right hand pressed down a little more on my stomach before rubbing me with his left.

His fingers kept going from my clit to my entrance but just barely pressing inside.

I wanted to rip my hair out.

I squirmed.

"Something wrong?" Michael asked.

His face was down, but his eyes looked up at me.

The dark blue bore into me.

"Stop teasing," I said.

"Me?" he asked, "Teasing you?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

His finger breached me but was quick to withdraw.

I let out a whine.

"Don't sound so neglected," Michael said, "You'll be more than satisfied by the time I'm done with you."

I wanted to believe those words.

Right now, I just needed his fingers to soothe the painful ache inside of me.

A loud knock startled me.

Michael frowned but was quick to get off the bed.

He pulled his pants on and put his shirt on before walking into the other room.

I sat up and pulled my legs closer.

I couldn't hear what Michael said. I didn't even know what was going on.

A few minutes of silence passed before I thought I heard something.

The door made a distinct noise when it shut.

It took a minute before Michael walked back into the room with a box of pizza in his hand.

"I thought we had a little more time," Michael sighed.

He set the box on top of the dresser. I didn't notice the smaller on top.

"Michael?" I asked.

He looked at me, and I could see the torn expression.

Was he trying to find a way out of this?

"You hungry?" he asked.

I just stared back at him for a minute.

Looks like I was going to have to make a move then.

I had to inch my way off the bed before making my way over to him.

He turned to move the box so that he could open it.

I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around him.

"Ren?" he asked.

He sounded a little pained.

Confused mostly.

He was still warm, and it felt good to have him in my arms.

My hands moved under his shirt to touch his sides.

He took in a sharp breath before he let out a noise.

"Don't stop," I said.

My hands went up his stomach roughly.

I could feel the change of skin and healed scar tissue.

My fingertips brushed over his pointed nipples.

His skin felt good. It didn't help the ache.

"Take your pants off," I said.

He didn't move. He didn't even respond.

I pressed my face into his back before gently raking my nails down his abdomen. I felt his muscles quake under my touch.

My hands reached the front of his pants, but his hands went over mine.

"Did you change your mind?" I asked.

I was feeling a little disappointed.

"No," he said.

He opened the front of his pants, and I backed up a little so that he could remove them.

He was quick to pull his shirt over his head, and his pants dropped to the floor.

I wasn't expecting him to turn so fast and wrap his arm around me.

I was pressed to him as he placed a heated kiss on my mouth.

There was little hesitation on my part. I kissed him back with everything I had.

The warmth of him was starting to make me feel dizzy.

I loved the sensation of his tongue rubbing slowly over mine before sucking lightly.

It made me moan into his mouth.

I felt him leading me back, but I wasn't expecting to hit the bed so soon.

My knees gave out, and I sat at the foot of the bed.

Michael leaned over me, slowly crawling over as I moved myself further onto the bed.

His lips didn't leave mine until I was laid flat on the bed.

They felt swollen, in the best way.

It must have been from the heat because my body just moved on its own.

My legs spread wide open, begging.

My hands went down Michael's back as I pulled his lower half closer to me.

"Hurry," I whimpered.

"I'll hurt you," he said.

"You got three fingers in before," I said, "I'm more than ready."

"Fingers are different," Michael stated.

My legs trembled in need.

"Don't make me wait anymore," I pleaded.

I could see it on his face. He was finished.

He had to get off the bed again to retrieve a condom.

I watched as he tore open the foil and slid it over his length.

My eyes watched as his fingers expertly rolled the latex on.

"Michael," I croaked.

He hummed in satisfaction as he stared at me.

The ache was unbearable.

My back arched as if the pressure of my groin against the mattress would help ease the gnawing pain.

Finally, Michael made his way back to the bed.

I watched his body move over me, and a shiver went through me.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what it meant. Excitement.

"Are you sure?" Michael asked once he was over me.

I nodded quickly.

My gaze was locked on where his body would finally connect with mine.

Michael's left hand on the side of my neck and my chin forced my gaze up to meet his.

"Nice and slow?" he asked, "Or all at once?"

I trembled.

He was leaving that up to me?

"Slow," I breathed.

He glanced down, and I felt it finally at the crux of my pain.

It was strange at first as he pressed in.

A light stinging sensation followed by a painful one.

He pressed his mouth to mine, swallowing my pained whines.

I felt every painful inch of him.

At one point, he had to move back a little before he could progress further.

He let out a low moan.

This was not how I thought it was going to be.

I expected to feel good right away.

What the fuck was this?

My fingers dug harshly into the backs of his shoulders.

Finally, he stilled.

He placed a soft kiss on my lips.

"Are you alright?"

I could have complained about the pain, but it didn't feel right.

I nodded.

"I know it hurts," he said softly, "Let me know when you're ready for me to move."

He had that kind of self-control?

I don't know if I could handle him moving right now.

My body stretched as much as it could for him, maybe even beyond that.

His fingers felt so fucking good. Why was this painful?

I took in a shaky breath as I tried to move a little, hoping to find a way to stop the burning sensation.

He placed several kisses over my face.

It felt like he was trying to comfort me.

I whimpered.

"It hurts," I confessed.

He moved his hips back, but I was quick to drop my hands to stop him.

"Ren," he said, "I'm not even in all the way."

What?

"Maybe it will stop if you move a little," I suggested.

"I doubt that," he said.

"Please," practically begged, "Don't stop."

"You said it hurts," he cooed, "I don't want to hurt you."

It was sweet of him to say, but he was already halfway there.

I pulled his hips desperately closer, hoping he would just thrust forward.

"You're not making this easy," he breathed.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I didn't push all the way in because I think I felt your hymen," he admitted, "It should hurt more once I break through it."

Was that the pressure I felt?

"It's okay," I said, "You're going to pop it sooner or later."

"Ren," he said seriously, "You don't need to make this more painful than it has to be."

I didn't want to wait another second longer for him. I didn't care if it hurt.

"Thank you," I said, "But please."

I dug my nails into his lower back.

His hips jerked forward, and I gasped.

"Fuck," Michael groaned, "Are you okay?"

I nodded. He barely pressed in further.

"All at once," I said.

"Ren," he groaned.

I could feel him shaking over me.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

I didn't have the chance to ask why before I felt him force himself deeper inside of me

I think I felt it.

It was like something tried to block him, but he tore right through it.

My body trembled from the sudden, painful force.

This time I could feel his pelvis against me.

I glanced down to see that there was almost no space between us.

He didn't move this time either.

"Let me know when you're ready," he said against my cheek.

I didn't think it was possible to feel this full.

This sensation was so new. My body couldn't stop the trembling.

He was so warm inside me.

All around me.

This was the connection I longed for.

Despite the pain, I think I was ready.

"You can move," breathed.

His deep blue eyes locked with mine.

He moved in just a little more, and I mewled.

My body felt a sense of relief as he moved his hips back.

The pain was mixed with another sensation.

It wasn't quite pleasure yet.

I gasped when he resheathed himself inside me.

My body stretched again to accommodate his size.

It took a few more thrusts before I started to feel good.

"Good," Michael said.

He was watching me as he slowly ground himself deeper inside me.

"What?" I asked.

I sounded out of breath, even though he was the one doing all of the work.

"I was worried you wouldn't feel good for a while," he said, "I can see you're starting to feel it now."

I nodded.

"It feels good inside of you," he moaned.

I was glad. It looked like my virginity was painful for him.

The tightness looked like it was maybe a little too much.

"When I pull back," he said, doing exactly that, "Your pussy tries to suck me back inside."

His words made me shake painfully.

"Yeah?" I asked.

He nodded before thrusting roughly into me.

I let out a cry at the harsh impact.

Fuck.

That felt so good.

"You like that?" Michael asked.

He gave me a half-smile before moving back and doing it again.

I moaned louder each time his pelvis collided with mine.

It wasn't just like in the movies. I could hear his skin slapping against mine.

It made it hotter.

"Michael," I whimpered.

I felt a familiar sensation coiling inside me.

Searing pain and desperate need.

My hips moved up to meet his rough thrusts.

He moaned, gripping my thighs. I felt his nails biting into my flesh.

This is what I was waiting for.

Oh god.

I felt it coming. It was slow at first, now it was about to hit me.

It only took a few more good thrusts, and I swear I practically screamed as my orgasm racked my body.

I tightened painfully around Michael, forcing him to stop and groan.

It felt like waves washing over me, and I felt every agonizing throb of my release tighten around Michael's still very hard dick.

His mouth hung open, and he groaned.

It hurt to climax with something still inside.

It was, in a weird way, a good pain.

I didn't realize how much we were sweating until I stared down at where our bodies joined.

Shiny wetness coated both of us.

"I hope that felt as good as it sounded," Michael smiled.

I nodded, bringing my knees closer to his hips.

"Did you?" I asked.

He arched his brow at me.

"Did I what?" he asked teasingly.

I just stared back at him as he smiled lazily at me.

I think he did.

When?

"Did I come?" he asked.

"Did you?" I asked.

He looked down at where he penetrated me.

"I did," I said, "When you came so fucking hard, it was like you milked it out of me."

My body was still trying to come down from my own climax. I couldn't control how I tightened around him.

"Careful there," Michael said.

He pulled himself out, and it felt strange. His warmth was gone, as well as the feeling of fullness.

It surprised me when he leaned forward to rest his forehead just under my right collar bone.

My right hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

"Are you okay?"

"I hate that feeling," he mumbled.

He shivered as I ran my other hand through his hair.

"What feeling?" I asked.

"Pulling out," he said.

I was pretty sure I had a confused look on my face. Not that he could see.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"It doesn't hurt," he said, "It just feels unpleasant."

Unpleasant?

"I don't think you realize how hot you are on the inside," he said, "It's like laving someplace warm, and I guess it hurts a little."

I wasn't sure if I could imagine what he meant.

"It was worse than usual this time," he admitted, "I molded you to my shape."

"I'm sorry," I said awkwardly.

"Don't be," he said, pulling away to kneel in front of me.

He dropped his eyes, and he frowned.

I forced myself up to see what caused his frown.

Once I realized what it was, I had one on my face too.

Blood.

I knew there would be, after 'popping my cherry.'

It wasn't a lot.

"Do you want to rinse off in the shower before you eat?" he asked.

I glanced up at him.

He looked concerned.

Was he afraid to ask?

"Okay," I said.

Was it even necessary?

How much was left?

Michael moved to sit at the foot of the bed.

I got up so that I could make my way to the bathroom.

I hesitated once I was at the door.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked.

I turned and walked until I was right in front of him.

With him sitting on the bed, I was able to look down at him.

"I'm okay," I said.

My hands went up to hold his face so that I could place a soft kiss on his lips.

It was probably weird how long I stayed there, but I didn't care.

He kissed me back after an awkward few seconds.

"Go wash up," he said, "I'll have something for you to wear when you get out."

I nodded.

I finally stepped away and headed for the bathroom.

"I'll leave the clothes at the end of the bed," he said, "I'll use this shower."

"Okay," I said, "Thank you."

He nodded before walking into the other room.

I walked into the bathroom and turned the faucet on.

My hand worked the knob to make sure the water temperature was right.

The last thing I wanted to do was burn myself or walk into an ice-cold shower.

Once the water was perfect, I stepped inside.

A light knock brought my attention to the door.

"It's unlocked," I said.

The door opened, and Michael walked in with two small bottles.

"The shampoo here blows," he said, "But I had these, if you want to use them."

"Thank you," I said.

I took the bottles from him, and he walked out.

It was strange how normal that felt.

I could get used to this.

My gaze went to the door.

It was too much to ask for right now.

That much I knew.