Her free hand slips between her legs beneath her summer dress as her lips slide over the tip. “Fuck, Aurora,” I groan, sinking a hand into her hair. “You feel so fucking good.”
Green eyes stare up at me through thick lashes; I take a mental picture because there is nothing prettier than seeing her on her knees in front of me. Brushing her hair out of her face, I collect it into my fist holding tight how she likes it. I’m working so hard not to come on the spot, but she’s moaning as her hand works with her mouth to satisfy every inch of me and I can see her hand frantically moving between her thighs.
Her tongue swirls around me before she takes me to the back of her throat again and my eyes roll to the back of my head. My hand tightens the closer I get, my stomach flexes as my balls tighten and right when I’m on the edge, she pulls me out of her mouth and grins up at me.
Despair is the best way to describe the feeling until, saying nothing, she turns around and lowers her chest to the bed so her ass is in the air right in front of me.
I don’t think I ever truly appreciated how magnificent summer dresses are until right now. Quickly grabbing a condom from the drawer, I put it on and tug the hem of the material up over her ass. She watches me over her shoulder as I peel her panties to the side again.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” I groan, sinking into her slowly. “Obsessed.”
“Show me.”
It’s quick and hard. I slam into her and she pushes back. My hands pin hers to the bottom of her back, yellow material of the dress I love so much entangled in my grip. I watch her face twist with pleasure as she moans my name loudly.
“Harder.”
“Can you take it?”
“Yeah, please, Russ. Go harder.” My grip on her tightens, her nails dig into my palm as her back arches even more to take me. Her mouth hangs open as her eyes screw shut and I can feel her begin to tighten. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Fuck, Rory.” Stanley Cup winners. Name some Stanley Cup winners. “I’m gonna—”
Aurora’s cry interrupts me and her entire body tightening and shaking tips me over the edge. I come so hard I’m struggling to stay standing, but she’s too busy writhing beneath my hands to notice.
I let go of her hands, gently leaning over her to kiss between her shoulder blades, then beneath her ear and finally her cheek. Her eyes finally open again. “Told you I could take it.”
She’s unreal. “Well done, champ.” I’m teasing her, but she holds up a wobbly hand, indicating for me to high five her. “We’re really good at this, aren’t we?”
“I’d argue we’re the best at it,” I say, pulling out gently.
She hums thoughtfully. “I’d argue that too.”
By the time I’m heading back to my seat, I know I’ve got a smug grin on my face. It might be a permanent fixture because I can’t imagine ever not being this pleased with myself.
“I feel like I don’t tell you I hate you enough,” Xander says to me when I sit back down.
“I’m going to miss you as well, buddy.”
Tonight is our last night all together and I can’t believe how quickly time has gone. We’ll be helping the kids leave tomorrow, then spending the rest of the day putting all the equipment and furniture away, before the rest of us leave on Sunday.
After much deliberation, Aurora finally decided she is still going to go to her dad’s wedding when she leaves here. I’ve been listening to her go back and forth repeatedly, but she says she’s finally decided.
When she told me everything her mom said, it was all still so raw to her and she was explaining to me how much lighter she felt finally understanding that it isn’t something she’s done wrong. She was so emotional, the relief and the years of pain rolled into one, that I couldn’t bring myself to answer her questions fully.
I still feel guilty about downplaying why my dad showed up at camp. She is always a completely open book about all her thoughts and feelings and I held back the full truth. I told her he’d had a fight with my mom and he was trying to get me to help, which is only the tip of a very big iceberg.
She’s asked me to tell her everything multiple times. Always in the same way, nervously, with the promise of patience and understanding. When she asked on the day of Dad’s visit, the whole truth was on the tip of my tongue, but after hearing everything she’d had to shoulder from the phone call from her dad to her mom’s impromptu visit, I couldn’t put my problems on her.