Page 114 of Every Beautiful Mile

I don’t think—I can’t. I grab the condom, drop it on the floor, and wrap a hand around his neck to pull his mouth against mine. It’s reckless, but fuck it. I’m already being burned alive, and if we’re doing this, there isn’t one part of him I’m not going to feel.

He’s at my entrance, concern etched on his face as he hovers above me.

“I’ll be gentle.”

No. I shake my head. “Don’t.”

So, he doesn’t. With a firm push of his hips, he’s in me, stretching me slowly, and I arch off the bed with a cry.

It hurts but in the best kind of way.

He pauses and searches my face. He’s waiting for me to tell him I’m okay. Damn him for being considerate when I want him to be anything but.

“Don’t you dare stop.” The words are a needy demand as I tilt my hips and pull him in deeper.

With a low growl in his chest, he’s in me—moving in ways that make me sob out his name. When he withdraws, it’s only to fill me up again. And again. Any shred of self-consciousness melts away with every rock of his hips and hungry kiss he brands on my skin.

My body molds into his as he thrusts into me. Over and over and over. It’s too much and not nearly enough.

Our mouths are gaspy mingles interrupted only by desperate pleas.

He grips my hips, flips us over, and digs his fingers into my skin as he moves me on top of him. My rocking starts slow, adjusting to the new position and how he fills me up so fully I might die. I lift off him until just the tip of him remains inside me before sliding down on him so hard it’s difficult to differentiate between pleasure and pain.

Then I do it again.

And again.

“Fuck, Nel.”

His fingers dig deeper into my hips, and his head drops back.

Every move pushes me closer to my undoing.

In another flash of movement, I’m on my back, and he crashes into me with a thrust so hard it feels like I’m being ripped in two. But if the hard length of him doesn’t break me, the orgasm that shatters through me afterward certainly does. The scream that comes out of my mouth is as foreign to me as the blurred edges of my vision.

He slams into me one more time before he shudders, emptying completely into me with one last rock of his hips. He rounds forward, his skin slick with sweat and his breath shallow, dropping his forehead to mine as we roll to our sides.

His eyes search mine as we face each other, and my palm settles on his chest. Breaths steadying.

“Your heart is pounding.” I smile.

He mirrors my movement. “So is yours.”

His eyes crinkle as he nudges my nose with his.

“That was amazing.”

“Eh.” I say, with a bored tone, biting my cheek to hide a satisfied smile.

“Oh really, Penelope?”

His fingers trace the line of my hip gently before grabbing my ass with a squeeze that makes me yelp.

“Guess we’ll just have to keep trying until I get it right.”

Then his hands, mouth, and body are on mine, and we do it all over again.

Forty-three

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