Page 200 of The Fall

The sensation builds and builds until I’m trembling beneath him. He watches me fall apart under his touch, his eyes never leaving my face. His fingers curl inside me.

“Not yet,” he says.

His focus returns to his hand inside me, knuckles against my thigh.

He keeps curling, and I’m gone, lost in the overwhelming tide of his touch. My world dissolves into his hand moving inside me, stretching me, owning me, preparing me. I am coming apart at the seams.

The world fractures into light and heat as I’m about to crest, to spill over that impossible edge, but he pulls out of me, slowly, agonizingly.

My hips give a final, useless buck, chasing a release that has already vanished. Every nerve screams with the loss. The absence of his touch is a hollow ache where moments ago there was only him. I feel so empty?—

Until he slicks his cock and lines up against me. The sudden, shocking heat of him replaces the void inside me. His body settles over mine, and one of his hands slides to my hip, holding me steady.

Moonlight cuts across his chest, tracing the flex of muscle as he rises to position himself. My body answers, my hips tilting up. I want him so badly.

An ache that has lived in me for years sharpens to a single point.

He pushes in. My muscles clench tight around him before a slow release gives way. The burn is immediate, a searing line drawn deep inside me, so much fuller. It threatens to split me, but instead of breaking me, the fire transforms, melting into a molten heat that floods me. Every nerve ending fires at once. I’ve never felt so completely consumed, so utterly filled.

My hips lift to meet him, to take him all the way.

He breathes out a groan once he’s fully inside me. “Fuck, Torey,” he moans, his voice breaking. “You’re so—” He cuts himself off, overwhelmed.

He remains completely still, the muscles in his arms corded tight with restraint. A tremor works through him, and I can read the conflict in the dark-blue of his eyes. He thinks he could breakme. He doesn’t know that for the first time in my life, I feel unbreakable.

My hands slide from the mattress, gliding up his damp back to cup the back of his neck. “I’ve got you,” I whisper. “Blair, I’ve got you.”

Our lips meet, soft and desperate. I am stretched around him, my heart bared. Blair is braced above me; our chests rise and fall together. He nuzzles my cheek. “I love you so much.”

I want all of him at once, right now, everything he has to give. His hips draw back, the drag of his cock inside me shooting sparks up my spine. When he pushes forward again, I gasp.

The sound is torn from me, a mix of pain and pleasure that is wholly new. My awareness collapses to the stunning fullness of him inside me. He pauses, letting me acclimate.

But I don’t want to acclimate. I want to shatter.

I lift my head from the pillow, straining to close the distance between us. I need his mouth on mine. I need to taste him, to swallow his groans, to consume him as he is consuming me.

He meets me halfway. It isn’t a kiss so much as a claiming, a devouring. We’re breathing each other in, lips brushing, parting, colliding again.

Each thrust goes deeper than the last, finding places inside me I never knew existed.

“God—yes—” My words break apart.

Blair dips his head to my exposed throat. My cock slides against his stomach, trapped between our bodies. He takes one of my hands, threads our fingers together, and pins it to the mattress above my head.

“You’re perfect,” Blair pants against my neck. The word is a brand against my skin; his breath sears it there.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin of my throat, and a charge of pure, desperate need fires through me. My free hand comes up, clutches his shoulder, digging into his tense muscle.

His slow, careful exploration gives way to something more primal. He keeps my hand pinned above my head, our knuckles whitening together. His thrusts grow deeper. The room fills with our sounds—skin against skin, breathless moans, the creak of the bed beneath us. I’m surrounded by him, filled by him.

I drag him deeper with my legs locked around his hips. Need overtakes sense. My body is greedy and open under him. The friction builds, a wave gathering power far out at sea before turning toward shore. Pressure builds, tighter, tighter.

“Right there,” I gasp. “Don’t stop—please?—”

My toes curl as tension coils at the base of my spine.

“I’m close,” I warn him, my voice breaking. My cock throbs between us, untouched and desperate.