Post-Breakup

Three days after their breakup, she agrees to meet him for a walk. By the time they reach the river, she is already regretting it. She hates having to be the one to be strong, to say no. They are walking in awkward silence. His eyes are damp with frustration and unshed tears, so she avoids looking at him. Instead, she looks down at the flowers in her arms, shifting them so that they become a barrier between them. He has never bought her flowers before. She opens her mouth, to suggest they turn around and walk back, and go their separate ways, when he stops and grabs her arm, pulling her off the path. The flowers fall to the ground, and she looks back at them as he pulls her into the trees. He stops, and grabs her chin with his free hand and forces her to look up and meet his demanding gaze.

"I want you." He says forcefully, his fingers digging into her jaw, not letting her look away.

She shifts in discomfort, trying to shake her head, trying to step back.His fingers on her arm and her face won't let her move. Instead, he steps closer. She opens her mouth to repeat everything she has said already; the reasons she left him, the reasons they won't work. He blocks her words with a kiss, forcing his tongue into her mouth and taking what she is no longer willing to give. For a moment, her hands remain at her sides in shock, but then she is pushing against his chest.

"No, no, Nate," she protests against his insistent mouth.

"Let me show you that I want you." He reaches both hands up to caress her face, and his lips travel over her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead.

"No, Nate." She says, sadly, her hands against his chest trying to push him back. "It's too late."

"It's not!" He yells it, forcefully, and she can hear the pain in his voice. His caress turns violent, he is holding her face too tightly now. His hands are shaking, his fingers applying enough pressure to bruise her pale, sensitive skin. His lips are on hers again, desperate, forcing her mouth open. His tongue forces hers to respond, their rhythm more a fight than a dance.

"No," she begs, her words almost indistinguishable against his mouth.

"Yes." He grabs her hair and forces her head back, his lips making a damp trail down her neck that causes her to shudder.

"It's not a good idea," she whispers. He ignores her, his lips moving across her chest. He moves one hand free from her hair, wrapping her dark curls around his other wrist so that he controls her movement. With his free hand he pushes down her tank top, and her bra, exposing her breasts.

"Oh, Elle," he moans, before his lips find her breasts; kissing, sucking, nibbling. He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to draw a gasp from her, before he rolls it gently between his teeth. His free hand squeezes and massages her other breast, his palm rubbing against the peak of her nipple.

He steps back, letting go of her hair and breast, and grabs her top and bra, pulling them down to her waist in one forceful movement. He tucks his thumbs into her shorts and underwear and pulls all her clothes down together, following them with his lips until he is on his knees in front of her. He pushes her legs apart and she is forced to step out of the restraint of her clothes, leaving them in a pile at her feet. His tongue finds her, and he moans again as he discovers how wet she is. He grabs her bum and pulls her against him, so that his face is buried in her. His tongue is insistent, moving hard and fast against her. He hands are in his dark, curling hair, her head is thrown back, all protests gone.

Her legs begin to shake, and he plunges two fingers inside her as she comes. Almost immediately, he pulls them out, dragging them forward and across her clit as he stands. He undoes his jeans and pushes them down, along with his boxers. They are around his ankles, but he doesn't bother to step out of them. She barely has a moment to register how aroused he is before he picks her up and slides her on top of him. He legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper into her. His hands are on her bum, supporting her, and moving her up and down against him. His pelvic bone rubs against her still-sensitive clit. His lips are on hers, still demanding, insistent, taking from her even as he gives. Her aroused nipples are rubbing against his chest. The contact of skin on skin, and the tickle from his dark chest hair, send tingles down her body, between her legs where his cock moves inside of her.

She moans and his fingers grasp her more tightly, pulling her harder against him and his cock deeper inside her. She speeds up the movement of her hips against him, she is so close. They are both panting, their mouths still pressed against each other. Her legs tighten and she comes again, screaming his name, not caring that they are still outside, just off the path. He falls to his knees, still inside her, and falls to the ground on top of her. He plunges in and out of her, and she uses her legs to pull him deeper inside of herself. His hands are on either side of her face, the muscles and sinews straining and he pushes himself deep into her. She moves her hands from his hair, letting them run all over his body, grabbing his bum and squeezing hard, pulling him down, hard. He plunges into her with force and his face contorts as he comes, releasing himself inside her.

"Elle. Elle. Elle." He repeats her name over and over as plunges into her again, more gently, before collapsing, spent. He rolls off of her, pulling her against his side, caressing her exposed breast as she rests her head on his heaving chest. They lay like that, silent, for several minutes, recovering. Then Elle remembers where they are, just off a public path, and leaps up to get dressed. Nate follows suit, more slowly, less worried about being caught. He takes her hand and leads her back onto the path, picking up the abandoned flowers. As she takes them from him, he pulls her against him, crushing the flowers between them.

"I want you," He says, his voice low and husky, almost growling. "I will keep showing you, if you let me. I will never take you for granted again." He kisses her again, hard, letting his hand roam down her back and over her bum, his fingers slipping up the bottom of her shorts, pushing aside her panties to find her still wet for him. She can feel him, hard again, against her stomach, and she nods. She can't find any words, any reasons why not.

They walk back, but don't go their separate ways.