Free Three Rivers by Chloe T Barlow

until senior year of high school, she'd not lost her virginity until she was nineteen, having had sex with two guys before she met Jack. Bumbling college boys, both of them. One was a sensitive guy who was also an English major, like her, with little to no knowledge of the female anatomy. The second was a short-lived boyfriend from a good fraternity and an even better family who'd bored the hell out of her. Once she met Jack, that was it, there was never anyone else. Until now.
    She was indeed Griffen's right then and it felt amazing.
    Sex with Jack had been wonderful — sweet, loving and intimate. The safe lovemaking of two people who knew each other better than anyone because they'd grown up together. But there was nothing safe about this. This experience was animalistic and intense, while also protective and warm. Griffen was no boy and her body was acting all woman.
    "Christ," she gasped, as Griffen pulled his head up, trapping her with his eyes as he placed his hands under her ass, tilting it up until he went even deeper, hitting some point inside her that made her clench, the warmth turning to ripples of energy throughout her body, and she screamed his name yet again.
    Griffen used his other hand to stroke her still sensitized clit. "I feel you tightening around me, gorgeous. You're so incredible." The words, the stroking, the pumping of his hard body and the intense look on his face were all too much. Althea tingled from her core ubiquitously, coming even more spectacularly around him.
    "Oh Griffen. Oh God."
    "Yes. Yes gorgeous. Fuck, yes."
    She came again, as Griffen grew harder and stiffened inside of her, coming right along with her.
    "Althea," he shouted. Griffen held her as she stayed seated on the desk and they caught their breaths. He disposed of the condom, then his slacks and boxer briefs, which they hadn't made it to taking off yet.
    He picked her up, which gave her a burst of awkwardness, but she tamped it down — like everything else tonight, she would let herself enjoy it. He carried her to the nearby bed with an amount of ease that made her feel downright girly. They were both still lightly panting, kissing each other everywhere they could reach. He placed her gently on the bed and lay down beside her.
    "Jesus, Althea, you were amazing," he whispered as he stared at her and ran his hand up and down her body.
    "Well, I, uh, do a lot of yoga," she whispered seriously.
    He barked out a laugh. "That's not what I meant, but good to know," he said with a smirk.
    She laughed and looked up at him as he stroked her hair. "In that case, you aren't so bad yourself, stud."
    Althea felt warm and content, yet also exposed, stripped bare and mildly terrified in the best way imaginable. She felt so free, and that was the scariest thing for her.
    Maybe the girls were on to something. Break herself in with a sexy stranger just passing through. No worry of seeing him again or him expecting anything. No risk that he would want her to be whole — someone capable of any real future with another person. This was all she could give, and if it gave her so much pleasure in return, it couldn't be bad, right?
    But if I want no strings, then why did I love the closeness, his possessiveness? Why did I like being his good girl so much?
    She told herself, that's because this was a perfect fantasy.
    She'd belonged to no one but a ghost for years — simply living out her life sentence of grief without parole — subject to solitary confinement with nothing but memories to keep her warm in her cell.
    But this was real. This was beautiful. She was owned by this stunning man for this tiny safe moment in time, and it had felt wonderful.

    They lay together in his bed for some time, kissing and occasionally talking in hushed tones. Althea rolled over revealing her rounded breasts above the sheet and Griffen had to take them in his mouth again.
    Pulling up, he rested his face in her neck, whispering, "So beautiful. Althea," as he moved her