Page 82 of The Fall

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.

Blair slides a hand between our bodies and wraps his hand around me. One stroke, two, and I’m teetering on the edge.

His thumb swipes over the head of my cock, and I shatter. My orgasm tears through everything, wrecks thought and breath until all that remains is Blair’s body locked tight to mine. I clench around him, drawing him deeper as I spill between us, hot and slick on our stomachs.

He thrusts harder, his rhythm dissolving into instinct. Every muscle in his arms flexes above me, and he follows, hips stuttering, a broken sound torn from his throat as he empties into me.

The world doesn’t return all at once.

First sensation: Blair’s forehead against mine, our breath tangled and hot in the space between us. Second: my hand still clasped in his above my head, both of us trembling.

His lips brush kisses over every inch of me within reach: temple, collarbone, the hollow of my throat. “I love you,” he whispers, over and over and over again, while starlight spills across our tangled bodies and all our tomorrows wait on the other side of this perfect darkness.

When the morning comes again, gold-washed and new, I reach first for Blair before reaching for anything else in the world. My hand fits perfectly around his cheek.

He catches my hand in his, turning it over and pressing his lips to my palm. He’s propped above me, the sheet pooled at his waist like pale water. His hair falls messily forward.

“I could watch you sleep for hours,” he says.

“You should try sleeping in sometime.”

“Not when I have this view.” He kisses my fingers one by one.

Outside, palm fronds rustle against each other.

Slowly, the light filtering through the blinds changes, no longer clear gold but murkier and charged.

The storm moves in fast, driving fat raindrops against the glass.

I count seconds between thunder and lightning—three, then two, then they are simultaneous.

Blair buries his face in the curve of my neck and hooks his leg over mine. “Looks like we’re trapped,” he says.

“Guess we’ll have to make our own fun.”

“I know exactly what we’re doing.” His eyebrows bounce twice.

I expect his lips on mine, his hand sliding down my chest, and my cock getting attention. Instead, he rolls out of bed and pads away, one hand smacking his bare ass cheek as he whoops.

I stare after him, watching him reach into his backpack and pull something out with a triumphant flourish.

On his way back to the bed, he scoops up his t-shirt from where it landed sometime yesterday and tosses it at my face. “You’ll need that.”

The mattress bounces as he plops down beside me. When I peel his shirt away, he’s holding up a deck of cards with pride.

“Uno?”

“ Strip Uno. I came prepared.” He settles cross-legged across from me, completely naked and completely unself-conscious.

“We’re already naked,” I point out, taking in the lean muscles of his thighs, the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel.

“That’s what the shirt is for. Put it on.”

“What about you?”

He drags the sheet lazily across his lap and shoots me a wink.

I groan and flop backward. How is it possible to get so much harder when he’s being the world’s biggest dork?

I sit back up and pull his shirt over my head. His eyes track the movement, lingering on where the hem hits me mid-thigh. “Alright, deal.”

“Ready to lose?”

“Oh, pretty confident, aren’t you?”

“In my Uno skills? Absolutely.”

Outside, thunder rolls across the sky like bowling balls down an endless lane. Blair shuffles the deck, then deals messy piles to each of us.

“House rules?” I ask, trying to focus on the colorful cards instead of the way his hair is curling at his temples and a kiss bruise is smudged against the curve of his throat.

“Lose a hand, lose an item.” His eyes glitter.

I fan out my cards, pretending to study them instead of the planes of his chest. “You first,” I say.

He drops a red nine on the pile between us. “Don’t go easy on me.”

I lay down a red seven. Blair counters with a red skip.

“Already playing dirty,” I mutter.

A few hands go by, broken only by the slap of cards and our increasingly ridiculous trash talk. The game tilts toward absurdity as the rain grows louder.

He lays down his final card—a wild—with a flourish.

“Cheater!” I cry.

“Or maybe you just suck at Uno,” Blair says, leaning forward with that cocky grin that makes me want to bite his lip. “Now pay up.”

“We’re already naked,” I remind him, gesturing at his sheet, which has slipped dangerously low on his hips.

“You’re not.” His eyes drop to his t-shirt on me. “Rules are rules.”

He crawls toward me across the mattress, cards scattering beneath his knees. His mouth seizes mine, hungry and filthy. Cards slide off the bed as he pushes me back into the pillows.

His thigh slots between mine. Thunder crashes outside, rain streams down windows in rivulets, and Blair’s tongue slides into my mouth. His palm runs up my thigh. I breathe him in and let myself be mapped by his hands.

His fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “Take this off, loser.”

I can’t help it; I giggle into his kiss.

He growls when I can’t stop, burying his face in my chest and nibbling at me until my laughter melts into moans.

I’m a mess: laughing, gasping, arching against him, my hands on his shoulders, my thighs around his waist. He bites down on my pec, then soothes the spot with his tongue.

“Want you,” he breathes.

“Take me,” I whisper back.

He answers with his body: covering me, lining up our hips so we fit together perfectly. I pull him in with my ankles at the small of his back. We move slow, then slower still, drawing out each second.

He takes his time with me. His hands are broad and careful as they skim my thighs and cup the backs of my knees, lifting them and kissing the inside of each leg. He places each one on his shoulder, opening me wide.

The mattress dips as he shifts closer. His hands slide beneath me, tilting my hips. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh before he reaches for the nightstand and fumbles with the drawer. The sound of the cap clicking open makes me shiver, and I grip the sheets as he works me open again.

“Torey,” he breathes. “You’re perfect.”

I reach for him, pulling him closer, needing more contact. His body covers mine again. Our eyes lock as he positions himself.

When he pushes inside me, it’s slow enough that I can measure each inch he fills. My arms wind around his shoulders, and I drag him down until we’re chest-to-chest, connected everywhere.

We stay like that, bodies joined, breaths syncing, until he starts to move. The sound of rain against the windows matches our slow pace. He dips his head to kiss me, his tongue sliding against mine as his body rocks into me. My legs tighten around him, drawing him deeper.

My eyes flutter closed then open again. I want to see him, need to watch his face as he moves inside me. My hands roam his back, feeling his muscles flex. I hold onto him, nails digging into muscle as heat builds inside me, gathering together like the storm outside, building, building, building?—

He comes first, a shuddering gasp muffled against my skin, and then reaches between us to stroke me until I follow him over the edge.

Afterward, we lie tangled in the damp sheets, my head on Blair’s chest, his hand stroking up and down my back. Uno cards are scattered everywhere. One is stuck to my calf, another to his thigh.

“Best game I’ve ever lost,” I say.

The rain fades by mid-afternoon, leaving the island draped in that brightness that follows tropical storms. Water beads on palm fronds and drips from the villa’s eaves.