Page 144 of Reckless Hearts

He prepares me with aching slowness, his fingers gentle but insistent. I’m trembling by the time he finally pushes inside me, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Marcus enters me slowly, inch by exquisite inch, and my flesh stretches toaccommodate him. It’s a delicious burn, a perfect fusion of pleasure and pain that leaves me gasping.

Marcus pauses, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling.

“You okay?” he whispers, and I nod, unable to form words.

My eyes sting as he starts to move, and it’s like every nerve ending in my body is lit up with sensation, expanding outward from where we’re joined and threatening to consume me entirely. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, deeper, needing to eliminate any space between us.

It’s so exquisite, so perfect, to have Marcus like this, to feel him in the deepest part of me, to feel like we could potentially be one.

It’s been too long since I’ve had this. Far, far too long.

“You’ve ruined me for every other man,” Marcus groans against my neck.

He’s ruined me too.

In every other area of my life, I’m always so cautious and measured.

But with Marcus, I’ve always been reckless. I’ve always wanted him more than anything else. I’ve always been prepared to risk everything for just one more moment with him, consequences be damned.

My tears overflow, and he kisses them, his lips catching each droplet.

The taste of the salt from my tears mingles with the taste of our kisses.

Marcus continues to make love to me, the air thick with our shared breaths. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust feels like it’s rewriting my DNA, changing me at a molecular level.

“Seb,” Marcus finally chokes out, his voice strained. “I can’t… I’m going to…”

“It’s okay,” I gasp, pulling him even closer. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

And he does. With a cry that sounds almost pained, Marcus comes undone above me, inside me.

He stays inside me but stops moving, instead getting a hand between us, stroking me off. His hand on me is like a live wire, sending jolts of electricity through my body. Each stroke builds the tension higher, a coiled spring ready to release.

And I’m coming too, the climax ripping through me, creating a new universe of sensation. Every muscle in my body contracts, then releases in a rush of endorphins that leaves me trembling and gasping for air.

My face is still wet, and Marcus kisses my eyelids and cheeks before slowly pulling out of me.

After he’s cleaned me up with his usual tender care, he turns to face me, his eyes searching mine, both tenderness and sorrow swirling in their depths.

“I can’t handle hurting you,” he says softly.

“You’re not hurting me,” I lie.

Marcus’s expression shows he doesn’t believe me.

He’s right not to.

Because this will never be enough for me. And I know that, even if I’m currently struggling to admit it to myself.

And I think Marcus is beginning to realize it too.

We’re destroying each other. And I don’t see any other way forward.

A few days later,it’s a relief to escape Marcus with the excuse to catch up with Jamie.

Things between us are so intense. We’re having sex almost constantly, as if that can replace the conversations we need to have. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold on to something that’s slipping away.

Unfortunately, Jamie isn’t the best person to spend time with if I’m trying to avoid thinking about love and heartbreak.