Page 29 of Nevermore (A Cruel Love #1)

TWENTY-SEVEN

REIGN

There’s a pit in my stomach.

As I get out of Mama’s truck, I have this sixth sense that things are about to go very badly.

When Santiago reached out after two days without any contact—which is a feat considering we live in the same house—I was hesitant.

It’s not because I don’t want to see him but because I was afraid that this right here would happen.

That I’d be walking the path to the plank.

He’s sitting on the rocky hill in front of the old land rig I showed him weeks ago.

Once again, I’m completely breathless at the sight of him.

His pristine slacks and button shirt are such a stark contrast against the muddy and rough terrain.

Only illuminated by our headlights, his profile is almost unrecognizable, but I could spot him anywhere.

Carved out of stone. Like a work of art.

Like someone who was never supposed to be with someone like me.

“Hey,” I say awkwardly, swaying on my heels when he sees me. “Um, I’m here.”

He nods soberly but instead of saying something, he reaches for my hand. “Come here.”

“I…” I gulp as his elegant fingers wrap around mine. I’m not expecting him to crush me against his chest and I instinctively place my hand over his rapidly beating heart. “What’s happenin’ right now?”

“Hush,” he says, quickly but not in a cruel way. He lifts a hand and places it on the back of my head, guiding my face into the crook of his neck. “Close your eyes.”

Even though I’m nervous, I do what he says. Closing my eyes, I let his body guide me into a gentle sway. The thrum of the land rig acts as some sort of beat as we start… dancing.

We’re dancing.

With his hands wrapped around my waist and our chests pressed together, we’re making music out of nothing.

I don’t mean to but tears spring in my eyes as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.

I know I’m wetting his skin, and it has to be uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care.

He just lets me get it all out. All my fears, all my worries, all my heartache.

He holds me through it with soft hums and sweet caresses.

“Reign,” he finally whispers, stroking my hair as his fingers run through the messy tangles. “I have something to tell you.”

I refuse to open my eyes and shake my head. “Don’t.”

“I need to.”

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Yes, querido , you do.” He pulls back only far enough to press a kiss to my forehead. His lips hover there in an intimate embrace. “I love you.”

This elicits a gasp from me. I pull back so quickly I almost fall on my ass, but Santiago is there to support me. My mouth opens and closes because the shock is too much. I can’t think of anything else to say besides, “Say what now?”

He chuckles and the softness in his eyes has my knees buckling. I don’t think I ever imagined Santiago would look at me with this kind of… reverence. This sweet submissiveness. The vulnerability I’ve only glimpsed at that’s now on full display.

It makes it easy to do what comes next.

“I love you too,” I whisper, gripping the collar of his stupidly fancy shirt. “Fuck, I love you.”

It’s so dumb. So fucking dumb. We haven’t even known each other for a full three months.

It all moved so quickly with us. From apathy to reluctant politeness to complete obsession.

I shouldn’t love him this way. Like even a second apart is forever.

Like I’d do anything for him. Like I’d give up whatever I could to see him happy.

But I do. With my whole heart I love him.

I love the way he’s too snobby for his own good and the way he pronounces De-Bussy like a proper French man.

I love that he’s always questioning my intentions and—in his own way—encouraging me to do better.

I love that the wall he put up years ago when his mother died cracked a little, just enough for me to squeeze my way in, and show him there never needed to be one in the first place.

And I love him because he’s my first love.

I crash my lips against his, trying to convey with my actions how much he means to me.

Under the stars we come together, so frantic and desperate, so needy it’s breathtaking.

Suddenly, everything in me is molten hot.

I can’t stand even the clothes between us.

It’s like a raging fire on my skin I need to rid myself of.

“Woah,” he huffs, eyes wide as I place my hands under his ass and lift him, urging him to wrap his legs around my waist. “Reign?—”

“Shut up,” I say before my lips descend back onto his. I’m not usually this assertive, but I need him like I’ve never needed anything before.

I walk us to the bed of my truck, gracelessly dropping him with a thud. Before he can say anything, I’m crawling over his body and devouring him. It’s with a kind of hunger I’ve never felt before—something I didn’t know I possessed—but all I know is that I need more .

Santiago doesn’t fight me at all. If anything, he matches my urgency tenfold. As I ruck up his shirt to trace my fingers over his abs, his hands are fumbling with my belt buckle. It’s clumsy and a bit chaotic, but we manage to strip each other until we’re in nothing but our boxers.

I pull back to stare down at him. His darker than night brown eyes are wide but hazy. His plump lips are wet and swollen. His perfect chest is rising and falling with his rapid breaths. Just staring at him, I…

“I don’t know what I’m doin’,” I stammer out, suddenly self conscious of my mere mortal body next to this god. “Um, I don’t… What do we?—”

I don’t realize that I’m picking at my cuticles until Santiago places a hand on my right hand to stop me. He smiles sympathetically and pulls me forward. “Condom.”

“Duh,” I breathe, nodding rapidly. “I mean, I knew that. We need condoms because we’re gonna…”

He gently guides me onto my back and straddles my hips. His hands tremble as he reaches beside us for his pants and takes out his wallet. Pulling out a condom, it dangles between us like a big neon sign.

We’re gonna fuck.

I gulp.

“We don’t have to,” he says, not a hint of annoyance in his voice. He soothes my shuddering chest with a comforting hand. “ Querido , I love you without this.”

“I know that.” I wet my lips and take the condom. “But I want to feel you like… that.”

He chuckles softly. “You want me inside of you ?”

I think about it, but I realize it’s not even a choice. Yes. I want him to fill me up. I want to be stretched by him, taken by him, consumed by him. Santiago is everything I never knew I wanted and I know he’d treat me just as gently and reverently as he does the keys of his grand piano.

I nod and let out a long nervous breath. “Yeah, I do.” When he nods as well, I snatch his wrist and gulp. “Um but you’ll be like… slow, right?”

He cocks his head with a questioning look. I know now that it’s not a look of irritation or impatience. Santiago likes to think through problems, eliminate all the possibilities, and carefully consider everything. That’s why when he smiles, I know it’s genuine.

“Of course,” he says as he takes the condom back. He drops it beside my head and bends down to peck my nose. “And we can stop whenever you want.”

Despite my nerves, I feel completely comfortable. Unfortunately, I can’t shut up because as he crawls down my body and drags off my boxers, I keep yapping. “And it’s gonna hurt? I mean, you haven’t even fingered me. I can’t imagine your cock goin’ in there. I think you might break me.”

“It might hurt,” he states honestly, pressing a kiss to my leaking tip. “I honestly don’t know, querido . I haven’t done this before either. Maybe we should wait and practice?”

It’s not the tempting little kisses he’s laying on my cock that have my eyes flutter shut in relaxation.

It’s his words. It’s the reminder that this isn’t just a first for me.

While I’ve never been with anybody, I know Santiago has had his fair share of partners.

I was never jealous or upset by that, but there’s something about knowing that we’ll always have this one experience uniquely to us.

It’s also the fact that he’s willing to wait. That he wants me to be comfortable and secure. He doesn’t want to hurt me, just love me, and that has me shaking my head. “No, I want it now.”

“Okay.” He kisses the juncture of my thigh once before smoothing his hand up my stomach. “I’ll take care of you.”

“D-Do you have l-lube?” I stutter out when teasing kisses turn into lustful swipes of his tongue down my length. It’s becoming impossible to think now, but I’m not surprised when he pulls back, only to nod. “Oh, o-okay. So, yeah. Let’s fuck then.”

He clicks his tongue at me and takes a hidden packet of lube out of his wallet.

He tears it open with his teeth—way too sexy for his own good—and coats his fingers.

His eyes are zeroed in on my ass as his fingers look for my aching hole.

My breath hitches when he finds it, and once he starts massaging around my rim, his eyes flick back up to mine.

It hurts. It’s definitely uncomfortable, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It takes me a second to adjust to a single digit, but knowing those strong regal fingers are going to fill me up has me arching my back in pleasure.

I want to be molded by his hands and shaped by a god.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he starts, an almost growl to his voice as he works me open. “This is going to be sweet, but I want there to be no mistaking what this is.”

My head lulls back when he adds a second finger, opening me up at a pace that’s both startlingly quick and excruciatingly slow. “What is this, Santi?”

He doesn’t answer for a minute, focusing solely on me. I wait on the edge for his answer, the temptation to ask him again on the tip of my tongue, but he’s always moved at his own speed. Once I feel ready, it’s when he finally speaks.

“It’s a claiming, Reign. When I slide my hard cock into this tight little fuckhole, I’m claiming you as mine. It doesn’t matter that it’s slow and tender. It means you’re mine .”

That makes sparks erupt down my spine. I’m nodding and squirming and wishing he could just fucking take me already. “Yeah.”

“Yes,” he corrects, finally sliding his fingers out as he nudges his cock against me. “Say it, Reign. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Santi. I promise. I’m— fuck !”

He doesn’t ease me into it at all. The full force of him is fucked into me all at once and it takes my breath away.

For a minute, I’m gasping for air, but he’s there to help me.

He curls himself over me and places his lips next to my ear.

“ Perdóname, querido. I think it’s easier this way? All at once so you can get used to it?”

He sounds so unsure. So… youthful and that makes me relax.

Because we’re in this together. He loves me and I love him, and we’re figuring this out as we go.

I know he’s nervous, even though he’d never admit it, because his breaths are so choppy against my ear and his heart is racing where it pounds on top of me.

I wrap my hands around his back and drag him closer. There are tears in my eyes—both from discomfort and emotion—and I sniffle. “Can we just stay like this for a little bit?”

Just a little bit longer of him still inside me.

Just a little bit longer of this once in a lifetime connection.

Just a little bit longer of love.

Finally, neither of us can wait anymore. He shifts his hips carefully as he pulls out, and I groan at the sensation of him inside me. I can feel him everywhere—just like I wanted—and it’s even better when he gently thrusts back in.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, staring at nothing but my eyes as he starts to fuck me. “You… You feel so good.”

“Yeah.” I smile through a sniffle. “You too.”

“Hey,” he says quickly, cupping my jaw as he delivers another long tentative thrust. “ Te amo .”

While I know shit for Spanish, I understand exactly what he’s saying because I feel it too. I crane my neck so I can rub the tip of my nose against his and breathe into his lips, “I love you.”

It stays just as sweet the longer he fucks me.

I can tell he’s close to coming when he wraps a hand around my cock and starts giving me quick strokes.

It’s like he’s trying to make me come before him, but I don’t need that.

Fuck, I’d be happy even if I didn’t come.

That wasn’t what this was about for me. For me, it’s about what it’s always been.

To feel close to him.

He doesn’t even get a chance to announce he’s coming before I feel it, and it’s just as good as the sex was. I’ve been claimed, every inch of me is his, and it’s what makes my own cock jerk with thick ropes of cum.

He collapses on top of me and his breathing is erratic as he presses kiss after kiss on the parts of my face he can reach. After a minute, he clears his throat, “I—um—apologize that wasn’t longer?—”

“Stop,” I say quickly, hushing him by moving his face back and placing a finger over his lips. “It was perfect, Santi.”

“Really?” He blinks big dark eyes down at me so lovingly, looking for assurance, and I nod. “Okay, good. Although, I promise I can last longer than that.”

“It’s okay,” I chuckle nicely. I open up my arm and signal for him to fall into the crevice I’ve made for him. He does so, moving at an angle where I can run my fingers through his hair and rest my lips on the top of his head. “We have forever to practice.”

Because that’s what summer nights by the land rig, surrounded by cicadas, engulfed in the humidity mean to me.

Forever.