Page 119 of Fall Into Me

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him in the darkness of our bedroom with my hands pressed against his warm skin, his mouth leaving soft, delicate kisses at the hollow of my throat.

“Me too,” he whispered back, closing this chapter that we’d lingered at the end of, unsure if we were allowed to close it.

But we were, and as he sunk into me, the overwhelming pleasure he made me feel turned that heaviness into something else. Structures and monuments just for us. A tribute to what this path of ours looked like.

So different from what we had originally thought, but still perfect. With every thrust, every moment we lost ourselves in one another, it wasperfect.The only thing that mattered anymore was the echo of Fane’s words. His direction, his praise, his questions.

When he finally left to head back to Artington, it wasn’t shocking. We’d talked about it over and over, and I was both a little startled and not at all when he told me he’d already planned on never going back for good.

“Whole lot of confidence you had there, buddy.” I dug my pointer fingers into his sides when he told me that, even though the sentiment had made my insides tingle and my heart flutter. I’d somehow ended up beneath Fane with his hands finding every ticklish place on my body until I was crying, and Jerry jumped from his couch onto ours in a physical demand not to be left out of all the fun.

When we woke up Saturday morning, the tone of Fane’s impending trip had changed.

Everything about him leaving seemed wrong.Everything.

It wasn’t one specific thing. I couldn’t place it, but my stomach filled with a lead weight that made it hard to roll out of bed, to help him pack.

To watch him go.

“Just a few days to close everything up and hand in my notice,” he said. Eyes dark and heavy with the same emotion that hung thickly in the air around us where he stood at the front door, duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Yep!” I was doing the smile I called on only in cases of emergencies when the threat of tears and mental breakdowns was so likely I had no other choice but to bring out the big guns.

He didn’t say anything in response to that. What he did do was drop his bag to the floor and walk right up to me and then his lips were on mine.

Moving. Tasting. Remembering. Making sure I didn’t forget.

The moment he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him, mine slid around his neck, and he walked us the few steps needed to get us back to our bedroom.

I fumbled with his belt, tugging down his jeans and pulling out his cock within mere seconds of my back hitting the bed. When I pushed on his chest, he held tight to my legs that were wrapped around him and flipped us.

Our mouths were fused together, hands clutching tightly, fingertips bruising. Fane, still with his boots on, lifted up the shirt that I had on—his shirt—with nothing beneath and watched as I ran the head of his cock along the seam of my pussy before notching him at my entrance and dropping down on him, inch by inch, until my legs were shaking. With a tight grip on my hips, he thrust into the hilt, and the only sound was our ragged breathing while he waited for me to adjust to the way we fit together.

Fane captured every one of my cries when I started to roll my hips, when I picked up speed, lifting and lowering myself in a panicked rhythm.

Desperate and frenzied.

I held onto every grunt that purred from his chest. Relished the places on my body his hands lingered.

His name tumbled out of my mouth on a loop as I held him tighter like this was it. Like I was about to lose him for a second time, even though he’d told me more times than I could count that this was it for him. He was coming back.

Those three words were still right there. I’d tried to show him in other ways, I was desperate for him to know every thought in my head, but they remained where they were, unspoken.

“I know, baby,” he grunted against my lips, and then he was standing up, pressing me against the wall, letting one of my legs fall from his waist while he hooked the other higher, filling me deeper, harder.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, my hands gripping the strands of his hair that had slowly started to grow out since he’d been here. “I don’t want you to go.” I pressed the words into the skin of his neck before I latched my mouth there, sucking hard and feeling the way his cock jerked inside me.

“Two days,” he panted. “I’m coming right back to you.” One hand snaked up my torso, pulling up his shirt and exposing mybreasts. I pulled a hand from his hair to pinch and tug on one nipple before dropping it down between my legs and rubbing quick, hard circles over my clit that Fane watched with his lips parted and eyelids hooded.

“Okay,” I panted, nodding.

“My truth north. Right here.” The hand gripping my shirt moved over my heart, and I looked down at his chest, where his shirt covered his toned, honeyed skin, and knew the words that were inked right there. The time on his neck, the rose—myrose—the hand covering my heart, and the compass on it that pointed right at me.

“Okay,” I said again, meaning it.

Fane’s mouth descended on mine, and when I came with his name on my lips, he tasted every syllable. With a final thrust, I felt him thicken inside of me before he stilled, my name falling from his mouth like the holy tongue.

I only let myself think about him coming home and how fucking incredible it would be when he did. That as soon as he was back, this niggling feeling in the pit of my gut would have been for nothing. I told myself it only existed because there was only one time before this that one of us left the other, and it hadn’t been temporary.

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