The silk sheets under my knees are softer than anything I’ve ever felt.
I grip Portia’s hips harder, my fingers digging into her pale skin as I slam into her. Her purple hair is fanned out across the pillow, and she’s staring up at me with those amber eyes that seem to see straight through every defense I’ve ever built.
“That’s right,” she gasps, her back arching off the mattress. “All this anger and frustration, just take it all out on me.”
I don’t respond. My jaw’s clenched so tight my teeth hurt, and I’m pouring everything into this, every bit of rage and disappointment and self-loathing that’s been building up. Ashley’s face flashes through my mind, and I thrust harder, trying to fuck the image away.
Portia’s apartment is obscene. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city, and her bed is massive, probably bigger than my entire bedroom. Everything screams money in a way that should make me uncomfortable, but right now I don’t give a shit. Right now, all that matters is the wet heat of her body and the way she’s looking at me like I’m something more than just pathetic Vincent Hayes.
Her hands suddenly cup my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. Her eyes are hungry now, but there’s something else there too. Something that makes my breath catch.
“You look so beautiful like this, Vincent,” she breathes.
The words hit me harder than they should. My cock throbs inside her, the pleasure spiking so intensely that my eyes roll back. I try to hold on, try to maintain some shred of control, but it’s slipping through my fingers like water.
“Portia...” Her name comes out as a desperate whimper.
Her legs wrap around my waist, locking me in place. She pulls me deeper, and I know I’m done for. I try to fight it, try to pull back, but my body has other ideas. The pressure builds and builds until it explodes.
“Shh, shh,” she whispers against my ear, her voice soothing even as her pussy clenches around me. “Inside me, Vincent. It’s fine. I’m safe. I’m on the pill. You can’t knock me up.”
The permission breaks whatever last thread of resistance I had. I bury myself as deep as I can go and let it happen. Her pussy feels divine, impossibly hot and wet as I pump everything into her. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me until I’m shaking, my arms barely able to hold myself up.
“Fuck,” I gasp, my forehead dropping to her shoulder.
She runs her fingers through my hair, the gesture oddly tender. “There you go,” she murmurs. “Doesn’t that feel better?”
I don’t respond. The orgasm leaves me feeling hollow instead of satisfied. The high fades fast, replaced by this gnawing emptiness in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
I try to roll off her, needing space to put myself back together, but Portia’s arms wrap around me before I can move.
“Wait,” she says, and there’s a smile on her face that stops me. “Let me hold you.”
She pulls me down against her chest, cradling my head like I’m something precious. Her warmth seeps into me, and despite everything screaming in my head to run, to get the fuck out of here before I break down completely, I let her. Her skin is soft, her heartbeat steady under my ear, and it feels...good. Better than it should.
I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on anything but Ashley.
Portia’s lips press against my forehead, feather-light and tender. “Now tell me what’s wrong, Vincey.”
The nickname sounds so stupid... But it feels like Portia.
“Ashley and I aren’t really dating,” I hear myself say, my voice muffled against her skin. The words start pouring out like a dam breaking. “We’re practicing. That’s all we’ve been doing. Practicing so we can swing with Caroline and Dante.”
Portia’s hand stills in my hair for just a moment before continuing its calming motion. She doesn’t say anything, just keeps holding me, and somehow that makes it easier to keep talking.
“She made this whole plan,” I continue, my voice getting rougher. “She wanted Dante, and she knew I had a crush on Caroline, so we decided to pretend to date and practice having sex until we were good enough to...to be worth their time, I guess.” I laugh, but it comes out bitter and broken. “And now it’s happening. Saturday. She set it up and I should be excited but I just...”
My throat closes up. I can feel tears burning behind my eyes, and I hate it. I hate how weak I am, how pathetic.
Portia’s fingers tighten slightly in my hair. “Just what?” she prompts gently.
“Ashley and I were best friends our whole lives,” I say, the words tumbling out faster now. “Like, since we were in diapers. We did everything together. And then freshman year of high school, I asked her out. I was so fucking nervous... But she thought I was just playing a prank on her. And then she just...cut me off. Completely. Wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t look at me. For years, Portia. Years of nothing.”
“Then she finally talked to me again with this plan. This stupid plan.” I can feel the tears now, hot and humiliating as they leak from the corners of my eyes. “I missed her so much. So I say yeah. And then when we were practicing...you know, sex...”
I trail off, unable to finish the thought.
“You fell madly in love with the first girl to give you a chance in bed, huh?” Portia says softly.
I let out a choked laugh that sounds more like a sob. “I guess. But Ashley and I...she was so much fun to be around.”
Portia pulls me closer, her arms tightening around me. “Someone like that, who would throw you away, isn’t worth your tears, Vincey,” she whispers against my hair.
“You deserve better than being someone’s practice dummy,” she continues, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on my back. “You deserve someone who sees you as the end goal, not a stepping stone.”
The kindness in her voice makes me cry harder. I press my face against her chest, letting myself break down completely in a way I haven’t allowed myself to do in years. She just holds me.
“I feel so fucking pathetic,” I choke out. “I don’t know how to make friends. I never have. Everyone at school just...moves past me like I’m invisible. And I don’t want to lose Ashley again. I can’t go through that again, Portia. I just can’t.”
My fingers clutch at her sides, desperate for something to anchor me as the confession tears through me. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I’m so tired of being by myself all the fucking time.”
I’m a mess, completely falling apart in the arms of someone I barely know, someone who probably thinks I’m the most pathetic excuse for a human being she’s ever encountered.
Portia shifts beneath me, and suddenly I’m being rolled onto my back. The movement is smooth. She straddles my hips, her thighs bracketing me as she sits up.
“Shhh,” she murmurs, her hands sliding down my chest. “No more crying.”
I feel her fingers wrap around my cock, still slick from being inside her. I’m soft, spent, but she starts stroking me with steady, deliberate movements. Her touch is different from Ashley’s. More confident.
“I can’t...” I start to say, but my body is already betraying me. Blood rushes south despite my emotional exhaustion.
“Yes, you can,” Portia says, her voice taking on that hypnotic quality. Her amber eyes lock onto mine as she works me with her hand. “Your body knows what it needs.”
I feel myself hardening in her grip, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. My breath comes faster, and I hate how responsive I am, how easily she can manipulate my body.
“That’s it,” she encourages, her smile widening as I grow fully hard. “There’s my good boy.”
The words send electricity down my spine. She lifts her hips, positioning herself over me, and then she’s sinking down. The wet heat of her pussy engulfs me again, and I gasp at the overwhelming sensation.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my hands instinctively going to her hips.
Portia settles fully onto me, taking me as deep as she can. She sits there for a moment, just looking down at me with this satisfied expression that makes me feel like a prize she’s won.
“I think you’re perfect like this, Vincey,” she says, starting to move. Her hips roll in a slow, deliberate rhythm that has my eyes rolling back.
She leans forward, her lips finding my neck. I feel her tongue trace along my pulse point before she kisses the sensitive skin there. My fingers dig into her hips as she picks up the pace, riding me with increasing intensity.
“Broken is just such a good look on you,” she whispers against my ear, her breath hot and intimate.
She starts pounding down harder now, her ass slapping against my thighs with each movement. The sensation is incredible, overwhelming, and I can’t stop the desperate sounds escaping my throat. She feels so good, impossibly good, and I’m losing myself in it.
I can feel my control slipping, my mind fracturing under the combined weight of pleasure and emotional exhaustion. Every thrust drives me deeper into this haze where nothing exists except the sensation of her body moving on mine.
“Portia,” I gasp.
She doesn’t slow down. If anything, she moves faster, her hands pressing against my chest as she rides me with single-minded determination. My vision starts to blur at the edges, tears mixing with sweat.
“Hey,” she says suddenly, her voice cutting through the fog. Her hand cups my face, forcing me to look at her. “Don’t think about her right now.”
I try to focus on Portia’s face, but Ashley keeps flashing through my mind. Ashley gasping my name. Ashley telling me she won’t be my friend no matter what happens.
“I said look at me,” Portia commands, her grip on my face tightening. “Just focus on me right now.”
My breathing starts to even out slightly as I stare into her hypnotic eyes. She slows her movements, making each roll of her hips deliberate and controlled.
“That’s better,” she coos. “I’ll make you feel better, Vincent. I promise.”
Her words wash over me like warm water. The tightness in my chest loosens just a fraction.
She leans down, her lips brushing against mine as she whispers, “Let me be your whole world.”