Page 158 of Hell Breaks Loose

Yet his hands find those places all over me that he always loved, that I always love him touching.

His fingers drag under the curve of my ass, down my thighs as he plunges into me again, caressing right behind my knees.

Shudders of delight roll through me like heat waves.

That familiar and scrumptious warmth that only he makes me feel.

Even without his memories, or only some of them, he’s fire.

The sun at the center of my universe.

Filling me with need and burning desire.

My heels hook around him, dragging him into me over and over.

Taking precious sweet time to slide out, powerfully hammering into my core again.

My hands sweep up the black lines, those accentuating lines of his tattoos, raising pebbled skin in their wake.

All across his chest and shoulders.

Up around his honed shoulders, around his defined collarbones and the sweeping lines of his neck.

Threading together behind him, tickling his soft, uncut hairline.

It’s shaggier than I’ve ever seen him, less put together than he would ever allow.

And something about it is wild. Untamed.

Like he used to be, long before I met him. That beast of a lion inside him that he only ever let out on stage or in practice with me.

I clench my fist tighter in those locks, tugging at his hair as my pleasure intensifies.

In response, he bares his teeth at me, moaning softly and thrusting a bit harder. He’s still controlled, both of us savoring the intricate sensations of every inch of his shaft slipping into me, slippery and silk smooth.

At the bottom of the stoke, I flex, indulging in that fullness, stretched to my limit in every way, hugging him like a glove. He senses my pull, bucking his hips upward, grinding into the mound of arousal within me, amping up the temperature and my exponential enjoyment.

But I’ve missed him for so long.

And I need more of him.

All of him.

What I have longed to feel for weeks. Missing him. Fearing for him. And before that, grieving over him.

“Evan…” I sing, thumping to the rhythm of our exertions, “I need you to let go.”

His eyes widen.

“I need you to fuck me. I need you to love me with everything you have.”

Slamming my palms back on the round table, I lift both of my legs up from around his back, his hands guiding them into position over his shoulders. His arms hook around them, locking me into place as he begins to speed up our slick-soaked, slapping beat.

“Fuck me,” I beg, my ass jiggling as he pounds harder.

“Yes!” he growls, his expression morphing into ecstatic abandon.

“Fuck me, Evan, I want you!” I cry out, my head tipping back as his body remembers, one hand slipping down to pin me to the spot, plowing into me with wild insistence, filling me with blazing heat and unchained passion.

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