Page 139 of Meet Me In The Dark
“Your pace.”
I swear, my chest cracks wide open.
Julian never gives up control. Not with me. Not with anyone.
But tonight, he’s handing it back to me.
I lean forward to kiss him, and with aching slowness, I sink down onto him.
The stretch takes my breath away.
We both pause and wait for the pain, but it never comes. It’s just this deep, perfect ache of him filling me.
“I’m good,” I say, meaning it.
He searches my face, then nods. His grip eases, and I start to move.
It’s slow at first, lazy rolls of my hips that take him deeper every time. His eyes stay on me, tracking every breath, every sound.
This feels like more than sex.
It feels like trust.
I brace myself on his chest, watching the way his lips part, the way his throat bobs, the way his browspull together like I’m ruining him. And I think I am, because he’s ruining me too.
My body shakes as the pleasure builds.
It’s too slow, too deep, too much, and not enough all at once.
Sensing what I’m chasing, he pushes up into me, meeting me halfway.
A broken cry rips from my lips as his hips rise again and again, driving me to the edge of oblivion.
He reaches up to cradle both sides of my face before pulling me into another kiss. He swallows every sound that escapes my lips, every cry and every moan.
“Open your eyes,” he demands.
I do.
I look at him, and my entire world tilts because it’s in his eyes that I feel it building, something terrifying, something I can’t run from.
A sharp breath catches in my throat.
His own breath shudders.
We both feel it.
This thing.
This scary, inevitable thing.
“Keep looking at me,” he orders, his voice gravelly, rough.
I nod and take all of him even when my thighs start burning and my lungs are gasping for air.
“I want to see those eyes when you fall apart.”
My body bows, and I finally find that blinding release on the cry of his name.
