Page 163 of The Truths We Burn

The air is suddenly scorching. As if inhaling would only flood my lungs with smoke—a heat that would burn me from the inside out. My breath caught, trapped inside my lungs.

I pull at the metal I little harder, “Tell me you understand. Tell me you know it wasn’t your fault and I’ll let you come.”

A surge of power washes over my bones. I would make him see the truth, the truth that had always been right in front of him. That he was punishing himself for things that were not his fault as a way of dealing with the hurt they caused.

Instead of blaming the world like the rest of us, Rook always chose himself.

“Fuck,” he says, head falling down, so he is looking at me.

His chest expands and falls repeatedly. I can see the deep-rooted fragility I had always known he had. The one he so badly tries to stifle and starve out until it dies. Right now, he is a brittle piece of glass. If I were to squeeze him too tight, he might shatter in my grip, splintering me with the jagged edges.

And the thing is, I would let him.

I would slice my fingers open until my palms were raw, just to pick up the broken shards. Just so I could help him put it all back together. I would do anything for him, even if it meant hurting myself.

He was my fire god.

And I live to burn for him.

“Do you want to come, Rook?” I raise an eyebrow, leaning dangerously close to the tip of his dick.

I can feel him jerk. “Yes, baby, please. I need—” He is taken by a groan that vibrates his entire frame. “Please let me come.”

“I will,” I mutter, “I want to make you come, babe. Just tell me the truth. Tell me you know.”

My whole life, I’d had this crushing weight of loneliness bearing down on my soul. Enduring years of solitude, even though I was surrounded by people. The burden of being alone, having only myself to rely on, held me below water for so long.

I almost forgot what it was like to breathe.

That was the power loneliness had on a person. It makes you so desperate for human contact, for a soul to cling to.

And here, with him, I know what it feels like to breathe. For the first time, I know what it feels like to be wanted. All I want to do is inhale him. To breathe nothing but him into my lungs until that is all that remains.

“It—” He grinds his teeth, “I know it’s not my fault. I know that none of it was my fault.”

“Good, good boy.” I purr, smirking a bit at the words I used, returning my mouth to his shaft.

I pump my hand up and down as I focus my suction on the tip, rolling my tongue around. His grip on the back of my head tightens and I feel his hips lift into my mouth, forcing himself down my throat.

We find our rhythm again and it’s not long before he’s groaning my name loudly, while I swallow all he will give. The slightly salty taste washes down my throat, doing nothing to sedate my hunger for him.

I pull away, panting as I wipe the saliva from my mouth with the back of my hand, falling back onto the back of my legs. Watching him fall down from his moment of climax.

Heat strikes my core when he makes eye contact with me, the left side of his mouth tipping up slightly.

“My turn, but like you said,” he says, “You’re going to need to trust me.”

He stands to his full height; the towel falling to the floor, and I look up at him, admiring the curves and dips of his body. When he reaches down for me, I let him help me up from the floor. Only for Rook to spin me around and press me onto the bed, my ass hanging off the edge.

I can feel his fingers trailing down my spine through the material of my shirt. My face chasing the cool material of the comforter, needing a relief from the heat that is coursing through my veins.

“Take your pants off. I need to grab something, but leave the panties. I want to take those off myself.” He mutters, leaving a kiss on the back of my head before he walks to the bathroom.

“You starting a collection of my underwear, Van Doren?” I ask, referring to my pair of missing panties from the theatre, as I wiggle out of my pants, kicking them across the room when they are off my legs. “Maybe.”

I liked the idea of him being just as obsessed with me as I was with him. I wanted us to eat, sleep, and breathe each other. The couple that became inherently annoying with how crazy we were about one another.

I wanted to be embarrassingly in love with him for the rest of my life.

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