Page 36 of Gravity
“Mais oui.Mon Dieu,oui,oui.” I drag him against me again. “Don’t stop.”
But maybe we’re scared to take things further. I’ve never done this with a man, and he hasn’t either. We make out for a while longer before his hand drops to my fly again. I’m panting, gasping, moaning. Holding his gaze. Biting my lip.
He pops the button on my jeans, then slowly slides my zipper down.
My hands shake too much for elegance, and I’m far from smooth as I undo his fly. We slither out of our pants and leggings and kick them away.
He’s naked. I’m naked. Firelight strokes his muscles. He’s strong, and so much bigger than me. I trail my fingers down his furred chest, down his stomach, around his hips. Run them up his spine and sink them into his long hair as I cradle his head.
“You’re beautiful.” His voice is an octave deeper than before. The sound burrows into my bones. I want to arch into him, purr and close my eyes and let him carry me away. I have never felt beautiful until he said the words.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” I confess. “So many times.”
He pushes his forehead against mine. “So have I.”
Hunter lowers himself into my arms until we’re touching from our lips to our toes. His cock is rock hard against mine, hot and heavy and solid. I buck against him and dig my hands into his scalp. My head tips back. I whimper, nonsense and curses and his name. He kisses my throat before he bites down on my collar bone.
Then he starts to move.
This is happening.Tabernak, it’s happening. Hunter is making love to me.
My legs wrap around his, my heels digging into the backs of his thighs. He’s everything I see and everything I feel. He’s pushing me into this shitty air mattress, into these sleeping bags, and I want more. Our cocks glide against each other, our bodies finding a rhythm and seizing it. We breathe each other’s breath into our lungs. One of his hands grasps my thigh and pulls me to him, as if he’s trying to bring us closer.
I want to do everything with Hunter, and I want it all tonight, right now, but we are flying, andla petite mortis rushing for me, too fast and sharp to stop. White lightning is racing up my spine. My nerves are blazing, and I’m on fire from the inside. I can’t stop kissing him.
I keen, and bite down on Hunter’s bottom lip. I try to thrust against him harder, faster—more,more. My fingers drag from his hair to his neck to his shoulders. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. The world is whiting out like we’re back in that snowbank. Like there is nothing that exists beyond him and me. It’s like glare ice under a winter sun, like looking into the center of the arena lights, like finding a newborn star. “Hunter—mon coeur…”
It’s every game I’ve played. It’s every goal I’ve scored and assisted on, every win I’ve shared with my team. It’s skating across the ice and sayingbonjourto Hunter and seeing him smile at me for the first time. It’s my dreams coming true.
I die the first of what I hope will be a thousand deaths in his arms, and he follows me over the edge, burying his face in my neck as we shatter.
We hold each other tight, breathing hard, like we can't let go of these seconds. The spell is broken by a log crackling in the fire, tossing sparks into the darkness. He drops kisses to my neck and my shoulder, and then trails his lips on a path to my heart before laying his cheek against my chest.
My heart is beating for him.
Reality returns in fractions. The chill of thedépanneur. The warmth of the fire. The vivid colors of poppies and clementines dancing over his skin. I trace my fingertips along the curves of his muscles and the divots of his spine.
He kisses the skin above my heart again, and then settles beside me. We lie on our sides, facing each other. He takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together, then kisses each of my knuckles. “Was that okay?” he murmurs.
“Très bon.” I almost laugh. It was the best of my life. So far, I hope. We'll do this again,oui? “Was it okay for you?”
He nods, and presses his cheek against the back of my hand. “I’m glad we got away today. And talked.” He smiles.
“Oui, this was a very productive talk.” I pull him to me until our noses are practically touching, then tuck a rogue strand of hair behind his ear and hitch my leg over his thigh. “Let’s talk again. Every day.”
“Okay. Morning and night.”
“Two-a-days, hmm? Like hockey practice?”
He nods. “I have to get good for you.”
“You are alreadyfantastique.”
He grins, and it's all I can see. I kiss him, then kiss him again. I can’t stop smiling. I can’t stop this bubbly feeling, either. This lightness, merging with a feeling that’s so solid and right it grounds me even as I’m heady with exhilaration. Certainty is building inside of me. This moment. This man. Hunter saidI think we were meant to find each other.
Non,nous étions fait l'un pour l'autre.
We were made for each other.
