“It’s too much.”

Flick. Flick. Flick. Suck. Knight may have been a virgin a few hours ago, but he’d probably made watching porn an art of sorts, because he was freakishly good at sex. And I mean, world-class good. Like everything else he did, he was confident in bed, and as he alternated between sucking my clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, I found myself trying to fight off another orgasm that threatened to tear me in two. I scooted my butt up, trying to escape the tormenting pleasure that chased me, but he pinned me to the bed, flicking my clit faster, sucking on it harder.

This time, I cried into the pillow, tears of happiness sliding from my cheeks. I kept the pillow on my face, knowing there was a pool of my lust for him underneath us, and before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me again. But this time, it wasn’t love we were making.

No.

He was fucking me.

Drilling. Slamming. Pushing. Punishing with his jerky, deep thrusts. I thought he was going to nail me into the mattress until I couldn’t unglue myself from it, and knew for a fact it must feel like sitting on a roller coaster for April on the upper bunk. She was going to hate me.

“Knigh…Knight…go…s…s…slow…slower,” I stammered as his sweat began to rain down my face. It was so hot, I was nearing my third orgasm. Fourth, if you counted the water tower.

His lips dragged along mine. He bit the tip of my lower lip and tugged it, like a lion warning his cub. “Fuck her, baby. Come for me again.”

I’d always giggled when I read about women coming on demand. It seemed oddly unlikely. Like sneezing on demand. And I was seventy-five percent sure my coming had nothing to do with Knight’s request. But I came nonetheless. He pulled out, ripped the condom from his penis, flipped my hoodie up and came all over my breasts, watching me as he did with a smirk on his face.

A minute later, he collapsed beside me. I stared at the wood of the upper bunk, to which I’d glued stickers of bands I liked and inspirational quotes that had helped me get through the period of time without him.

Knight flung his arm behind his head. I did the same. We both stilled as April shifted in her bunk, groaning something unintelligible. When she got back to softly snoring, we let out relieved breaths. I turned toward him, placing my hand on his chest, my other one plucking my phone from between the wall and the mattress, texting him.

Luna: Can I ask you something?

Knight: Anything.

Luna: Actually, two things.

Knight: …

Luna: How do I taste?

He didn’t look up from his phone, which I appreciated.

Knight: Like cheap rubber.

Luna: ???

Knight: The condom from the water tower. But also sweet. And hot. And perfect.

Luna: That’s better.

Knight: But also like the condom.

I swatted his chest. He grinned.

Knight: What’s your second question?

Luna: You said what we did should answer my question. I don’t think it did. What are we, Knight?

This time, he did look up, his gaze holding mine. He opened his mouth, not whispering the words, but uttering them, loud and clear.

“We’re everything.”

I tossed all three mini bottles of mouthwash I’d consumed into the trash in my hotel room, washing them down with a bottle of water and mint gum. Luna and I were going to meet up at a diner three blocks from Boon, and I preferred not to smell like a piss-ridden alleyway. The alcohol on my breath was starting to stick, even when I wasn’t drinking. It was in my sweat. In my odor. In my fucking veins.

This morning I’d snuck out of her room, but not before parting from her body in the most glorious way. She’d pressed her ass against my dick, wiggling it back and forth, begging for friction. I jerked off, came on her ass, then fingered her to an orgasm before leaving, because—why, yes, I was a perfect gentleman.

Before going to meet Luna, I called Mom. Her voice was strained, breathless, but she tried to hold back the coughs, asking me how I was doing in North Carolina.

“Good,” I said. “Luna’s my girlfriend now.”

It felt stupid to say it in the same way it felt stupid to think it. We were so much more than steady. I was going to marry her. I’d known that with every fiber of my being before I was fully potty trained, for fuck’s sake. I just hadn’t known how to label it back then.

“Oh my goodness,” Mom shrieked into my ear. She sounded relieved more than happy, and I tried not to let it dampen my mood. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

“Happy or relieved?” I threw her tone back at her.