Page 54 of Seven Lost Summers (Broken Oasis #3)

Quinn

M

y

entire

body

won’t

stop trembling. Every nerve is alive, charged, stretched thin from the intense orgasm he just tore out of me with his mouth and those fucking fingers.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet, it was brutal.

Fucking relentless. The kind of climax that doesn’t fade quietly but crashes through you, tears you apart, and leaves you gasping for more.

My heart slams against my ribs in a wild and unforgiving rhythm.

My thighs are soaked. I’m still twitching, everything inside me pulled tight and still sparking.

And he’s kneeling between my legs, shirt clinging to his body, chest heaving.

His mouth is slick with me, lips red from the effort it took to ruin me. His jaw clenches when I meet his stare.

Those fucking dark eyes are locked on me, devouring everything I am.

I try to hold his gaze, try to stay with him, but it’s too much. I’m not shaking from what he did to my body. I’m shaking because I want more. This was never just need. It’s something else. Something heavier that’s been waiting years to take shape.

My body screams for him.

My skin begs for more.

There is nothing careful left in me, and this time, I’m not running from it.

“Come here,” I whisper.

He yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it aside without taking his eyes off me.

Then he crawls up the bed. The muscles in his arms shift as he cages me in, his body heat wrapping around me before he even touches me.

My hands move on instinct, gliding up his chest, feeling the ridges of each flexed muscle.

His pulse pounds hard under my fingertips.

His breath is shallow, dragging through parted lips as he stares down at me.

I reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them with shaking fingers. The zipper slides down with a sound that’s too loud in the silence between us. His cock is already hard, thick, straining for release. I slide my hand inside. His whole body reacts. A sharp inhale. A broken breath.

“Quinn...” It’s a warning and a plea in one.

I stroke him once, and watch as it takes him apart. His head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched. His arms tremble where they’re braced above me, forehead dipping until his lips brush mine. Close, but not kissing me yet. Not giving in. Not fully.

“You gonna fuck me now?” I ask. “Or are you gonna stare at me all night and pretend this isn’t happening?”

He smirks. That cocky, smart-ass smirk that has always turned my insides molten. It makes my breath hitch. And in that moment, I already know the answer.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling back far enough to meet my eyes. “I don’t have a condom. It’s in the other room.”

I should be the responsible one and tell him to get it. But the way he’s looking at me, chest rising, skin flushed, jaw tight, I’m not going to miss this.

“I’m on birth control,” I whisper. “When was the last time you got tested?”

His brow furrows. A flicker of hesitation touches his features.

“Last month,” he says. “Kit always makes us get tested. Me and Theo…”

He trails off. He doesn’t need to say the rest. I know what it means. They’re the only two who still fuck groupies.

“But I’m clean,” he finishes. “She still makes me get tested even though I’ve never fucked anyone bare before.”

“Ever?” I ask, the word breaking through the quiet.

He nods, still above me. One arm braced beside my head, the other trembling slightly beneath the strain of holding himself up.

His cock lies heavy on my stomach, glistening, flushed.

His eyes drag across my face, searching, waiting, his jaw tight enough to crack.

Every inch of him is wired with control, with restraint, with something he hasn’t said out loud. But I feel it.

He’s waiting for me to say it. To give him permission. To let him have this, have me.

I swallow.

My fingers slide up his chest again, and I give the smallest nod.

That’s all it takes.

He pushes off the bed.

The muscles in his chest flex as he drags his jeans down his legs. He kicks them away, his boxers with them.

He’s standing there.

Naked.

And it’s fucking breathtaking.

Every part of him is carved and solid, his abs, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. His cock stands thick and ready, swollen and leaking at the tip. I can’t stop staring. He’s so fucking perfect.

He watches my face as he crawls back onto the bed, his knees pushing mine wider as he moves over me again.

His hands roam my body with purpose, dragging over my skin, memorizing every part of me all over again.

His breath brushes my jaw as his body settles into mine, every inch of him burning against me.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You have no idea how long I’ve fucking wanted this.”

He dips his head, mouth pressing against the hollow of my throat, and I register the weight of him everywhere. His cock drags through my folds; it makes me ache all over again.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine.

He lines the head of his cock to my entrance and pushes in slowly, stretching me until I swear I can’t take any more.

My body arches as I take in every fucking inch of him sliding in deeper.

The pressure is insane, a brutal invasion that burns in the best fucking way.

I breathe through it until he bottoms out, cock buried to the base, and everything goes still.

His hips press flush against mine. His hands tighten on my thighs, the tendons in his forearms pulled tight. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe at first. He stares down at me.

Watching.

I see something flicker behind his eyes. It’s not only heat or lust, it’s something dangerous that makes my heart slam hard against my ribs.

My pussy clenches around him, desperate for him to move, but he holds still, only watching.

“Fuck, Q,” he breathes. “You feel so fucking good I can’t even think straight.”

He pulls out slow, dragging every inch from my body until only the thick tip of his cock remains inside me.

The stretch lingers, heat coiling tight in my belly, my walls clenching with the loss.

Then he sinks back in with a deep, guttural groan that vibrates through his chest. The sound alone makes my pussy tighten, makes my breath catch.

My head falls back against the pillow, lips parted, a sharp gasp slipping out as I feel him fill me again.

His thick and hard and fucking perfect. Every nerve in my body lights up.

I swear I can feel the shape of him inside me, every vein, every inch, pressing deep against places no one’s ever reached.

His hips meet mine with a soft slap of skin, and still he doesn’t rush.

His gaze drops.

He watches his cock slide back in, eyes dark with something feral. Watching my cunt take him. Watching the way I open for him, stretch for him, throb around every inch.

His jaw clenches. His breath stutters.

“Fuck, Quinn… I want to rail you so hard you forget your fucking name.” His fingers squeeze my hips tighter. “But if I do, I’m gonna blow the second I start. You feel that fucking good.”

He drags his cock out again, before drives back in harder. My whole body jolts, thighs tightening around his hips.

I can’t stop watching him.

He’s fucking breathtaking. Beautiful. All muscle, his jaw tight, veins thick in his forearms as they hold my hips. His abs flex with every thrust, the lines of his body catching the light. His mouth hangs open, breath coming hard, the edge of restraint twitching in his throat.

His cock slides into me again, deeper, harder this time, stealing the breath from my lungs. The stretch of him is too much and not enough, the kind of pressure that builds and builds until it takes over everything.

He groans through his teeth, every muscle in his body stretched tight with restraint. The sounds he makes aren’t soft. They’re guttural. Primal. As if he’s right on the edge of breaking and holding himself there to punish us both.

“You’ve got no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.” His voice is rough, torn from somewhere deep inside him. His hands grip my hips, his pace never speeding up. Every thrust hits deep, heavy, bruising.

“Touch yourself,” he commands.

My heart stutters.

“I want to feel your pussy squeeze around my cock while you rub that pretty clit.”

A noise rips from my throat. A broken, desperate sound I’ve never made before. I nod without speaking, because words are useless when your body is burning this hard.

My hand shakes as I reach down between us. My fingers find the aching bundle of nerves already swollen and throbbing from the way he’s been fucking me.

The first touch makes my eyes slam shut.

Pressure coils hard behind my ribs.

My pussy clenches so tight around him that he lets out a strangled groan, hips stuttering for half a second before he grips my waist harder and starts fucking into me again.

“Don’t stop,” he growls. “Play with that clit for me.”

He watches everything. His eyes burn into the place where my fingers work myself and his cock stretches me open. I’m soaked. My slick coats my fingers, dripping between my thighs. My body is a livewire. Every nerve ending is lit up. The tension builds so fast it knocks the breath out of my lungs.

I moan louder as my hand moves faster. The orgasm is already clawing at me, violent and sharp, ready to break. My whole body is braced, back arched, fingers shaking, breath catching in my chest.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “Come on, Q. Let me feel it. Fucking come while I fuck you.”

The pressure builds fast, sharp, and vicious. It crawls up my spine and coils behind my ribs, heavy and hot, until it’s all I can take in. My clit throbs under my fingers.

Then it happens.

Everything breaks at once.

The orgasm rips through me so hard my vision blurs. My mouth opens in a scream I can't hold in if I tried. It tears out of me, high and frantic. My pussy clenches in tight rhythmic spasms. He swears under his breath, hips faltering for a second before slamming back into me.