My Clocking In System

Chapter 25: Close

DANNY FIRST PERSON POV:

"Fuck my pussy," she gasped. "Harder. Danny. Harder. Fuck me harder."

I drove into her. Deep. Hard.

Her nails raked down my back.

Her legs wrapped around my hips. Her heels dug into the small of my back pulling me deeper.

The bed was knocking against the wall. The wet slapping sound of my cock driving into her pussy was filling the room.

I pulled back too far on a stroke and slipped out.

"Ah, " Her hips jerked up chasing me.

"Fuck. Sorry."

"Put it back." Her hand reached between us and grabbed my cock. Wet with her. She guided me back to her opening. "Put it back in me. Now."

I drove in all at once.

"FUCK!" Her head tossed back. Her mouth open. Her hair tangling under my elbow.

I grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head. I leaned my weight into it.

I drove into her pussy hard and fast, finding a rhythm that had nothing to do with patience or being gentle or being careful. Eleven years of patience was done. I was fucking her. She was taking it. She was asking for it.

Sweat running down my back. Her skin was slick under me.

The duvet bunched up under her hips. Her tits were bouncing with every thrust. Her mouth was open. Her eyes were half-closed. The sounds coming out of her were not words anymore.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Danny! Ah!"

I shifted the angle. Put my mouth at the side of her throat. I could feel her getting close. Her pussy was gripping me tighter on every stroke. Her breathing catching. Her thighs were starting to shake.

She said: "Danny."

She said: "Don’t stop."

She said: "Please."

She said: "I’m yours."

I was close. I was so fucking close. My balls were tight. The pressure behind my hips climbing. I had been holding it back. I wanted her to come again first.

"Jodie," I said against her throat. My voice was gone. Wrecked. "I’m close. I’m going to come."

She pulled her wrists out of my grip. Her hand fisted in my hair and yanked my forehead against her neck. Her other arm went tight across my back. She locked her legs around my hips. Squeezed. Her heels dug into the small of my back. She pulled me as deep into her as my body could go.

She said it into my ear. Low. Fierce. No doubt in it.

"Inside."

"Jodie."

"Inside my pussy. Don’t pull out. Come inside me. I want to feel it. All of it, Danny. Give it to me. Inside."

Fuck.

I drove into her harder. She wrapped her arms around me tighter. Her nails dug into my back deep enough to leave marks. The bed was slamming against the wall. The wet sound of my cock pounding into her pussy was the loudest thing in the room. Her moans were the second loudest.

Her body went tight under me. Drawing in. Drawing in.

And then it broke.

"DANNY!"

She came. Hard. Her pussy clamped down around my cock in a long pulsing rhythm so tight I couldn’t move.

Her thighs squeezed against my hips so hard I felt it in my ribs. Her whole body locked around mine. Shaking. Her mouth open against my shoulder. A long sound coming out of her that wasn’t a word.

I let go.

I came inside her. Deep.

The first pulse hit and my vision went white. I came hard. I came for a long time. I felt myself emptying into her in deep heavy pulses, filling her, my cock twitching inside her with every one.

"Yes," she moaned against my shoulder. "Oh god. Yes. I can feel it. So hot. Danny. I can feel you coming inside me."

She kept her legs locked around me. She did not let me pull back. She held me there with her whole body while I finished. Every pulse. Every drop. Inside her. Where she wanted it.

When I was done I did not move.

Neither did she.

I could feel her heart hammering through her chest into mine. Her breath against my ear, ragged, slowing. The slow soft pulse of her pussy still gripping my cock in the aftershocks. Weaker now. Still there.

"I can still feel you," she whispered. Her voice rough. Wrecked. "You’re still hard inside me. You’re still twitching."

I lifted my head.

She opened her eyes.

She looked at me.

Her mouth turned up slowly at the corner. That half-smile. Exhausted. Satisfied. Fucked.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said.

We lay there.

We did not move for a long time.

Her hand was on the back of my neck. My face was against the side of her throat. I could feel her pulse. Fast and slowing. I could feel the wet between us where I was still inside her. The heat of it.

After a long minute she stirred.

"Water," she said. "Bathroom. Both."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Put her feet on the floor. Pushed herself up.

Her right knee buckled first. Her left went a half-second later. She caught herself on the edge of the bed with one hand but she went down. She landed sitting with both palms flat on the mattress and her thighs trembling.

"Oh," she said.

She looked at her own legs.

"My legs," she said. Flat. "My legs aren’t holding."

"Mm."

She turned her head and looked at me.

"Two orgasms," she said.

"Two."

"My legs have never not held."

"Mm."

"What the fuck did you just do to me, Danny Flynn?"

"I did exactly what you asked me to."

"You did more than that."

"I did exactly what you asked me to. Patiently."

She kept looking at me. Then the half-smile came back, slow, against her own will.

"Patiently," she said.

She gave up on the water.

She slid back under the duvet beside me. Put her hand flat on my chest. Fingers spread. I could feel my come leaking out of her onto her thigh and she didn’t move to clean it up. She just lay there against me.

Afterwards, we lay tangled in the lamplight, her flat ticking quietly around us. The half-made dress on the machine.

The city is somewhere outside the window. Her head was on my chest. My hand was in her hair. Neither of us said anything for a long time, and it wasn’t an awkward kind of nothing. It was the other kind. The kind I’d forgotten existed.

"You went quiet," she said eventually, into my chest.

"Good quiet."

"Mm." Her finger traced a slow line down my sternum.

"You know what the maddest part of today is? And there’s been some mad parts. The scooter. The watch. Whatever it is you’re not telling me."

She propped her chin on me to look up. "The maddest part is you’re here. Danny Flynn, in my bed. I’d genuinely written you off. Filed you under things that didn’t happen."

"I’m sorry it took me so long to."

I stopped. Because the real answer had the whole impossible truth tangled in it. The system. The doors. The money. None of which I could give her.

I gave her the part that was true without it.

"I’m sorry I ran. I was ashamed of what my life was. I didn’t want you to see it. That’s the whole of it."

"I know." She settled back down against me. "You said. In the café." A pause.

"I’d have taken you anyway, you know. Broke. The state of you in that binbag. I’d have had you then, too."

Something went tight in my throat.

She’d have had me poor. She’d have had me before any of it. The one person in my whole new gold-plated life who wanted the version of me that had nothing.

Some doors money opened.

This one Jodie did.

I held on to her tighter, and she let me, and we lay there while the lamp burned low and the city turned over outside, and for one whole night I was not the mystery man in forty, or the host, or the courier they sent round the back.

I was just Danny, in Jodie Carter’s bed, and it was enough.

It was more than enough.

My phone sat dark on her bedside table. Face down. Where I’d put it.

For once, I didn’t think about it at all.