Page 38 of The Fall
He lays me back against the pillows and cages me between his arms. Our hips align. I arch into him, shameless, wanton. He maps a path down my neck with his lips, grazes his teeth over the point where my heartbeat hammers. His calloused fingers skim along my ribs, sliding under my T-shirt.
“So beautiful,” he breathes against my skin.
I’m desperate to feel him skin against skin. He sits back long enough for me to wrench his shirt over his head, strip me out of mine, and then he takes me down to the mattress again.
He tastes like salt and hunger, and I can’t get enough, can’t ever get enough. Blair’s hands roam down my sides and grip my hips.
He kisses a trail down to my stomach, mapping me with lips and teeth and tongue. He’s charting—to me at least—virgin territory. I fist my hands in his hair as he bites my hipbone, dizzy and drunk on his touch and the heat of his mouth.
“Tell me what you need.”
Jesus. “I need...” I swallow hard and force my words out, my voice shaking. “I need you.” Three words, heavy as a vow.
Blair’s blues flare, turn molten. He surges up, seizes me in a kiss that sears my soul. “You have me,” he says against my lips. “All of me, always.”
His fingers hook in the waistband of my jeans. The button pops free, and he lowers the zipper, inch by agonizing inch. My hips lift, begging?—
He tugs, slowly. My jeans and boxer briefs bunch around my thighs, and he sits back on his haunches and looks from head to toe.
I squirm. I’m achingly hard already. His eyes—blue and bottomless—lock on mine.
He flattens his hands on my thighs and holds me down as he straddles my knees. I’m hyperventilating, shaking, about to flyout of my skin. I’m going to come, and he hasn’t even touched me. All he’s doing is looking at me.
He drops a kiss to my hipbone, my inner thigh. He never takes his eyes off me.
My hands white-knuckle in his sheets. “Blair, please...”
He lowers his head, achingly slow. He flicks his tongue out.
Wet heat engulfs me and I buck against the mattress. I’m practically feral, and definitely unhinged, my back bowed, head thrown back, a keen caught in my throat. I’m lost to the slick slide of his lips, his tongue, his exquisite suction. I’m wound tight enough to snap.
He hums, low in his throat. I feel iteverywhere. It’s agony, it’s ecstasy. He takes me deep, all the way to the root, then swallows around me.
Stars. Galaxies. Universes explode behind my eyelids. I scrabble at his shoulders, tug his hair. I’m desperate for an anchor; I can’t fucking breathe.
He’s relentless, driving me higher, winding me tighter. I’m babbling, spilling words out unchecked. Pleas, praises, his name, over and over.
Blair maps my soul, navigates the secret places of my body. He molds himself to me, and I wrap myself around him, ankles locking at the small of his back. I’m shameless, begging him for more, deeper, closer, until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
“Blair.” I’m undone. Unmade. “Blair, please, please...” I shatter into him, splintering into a million glittering pieces. He works me through it, wrings out every last tremor and aftershock.
When I finally drift back into myself, he’s stretched out beside me, tracing patterns on my sweat-soaked skin with his fingertips. His head is propped in his other hand, and he’s watching me, a satisfied smile curving his swollen lips.
“Back with me?” he asks, his voice low and rough, thick with—fuck—me.
I’m still floating, my nerves singing, but I need to feel him, and—more than that—taste him.
I surge up, capture his lips, lick into his mouth. He opens to me beautifully, groaning as he falls back to the bed.
It’s too easy to climb on top of him. I don’t even think, don’t second guess. I strip away his sweats in one swift pull, then settle into his lap. Suddenly, we’re skin-to-skin, every inch pressed together, every hard plane and coiled muscle. His heat, his strength, it’s all mine, all beneath me.
I nip at his jaw, his throat, kiss across his chest. I want to take him apart, untether him the way he undoes me. He looks sculpted, every line defined, panting and flushed beneath my lips. Down his body I go.
“Torey...” He arches into my touch and fists the pillow over his head.
I wrap my hand around his cock, feel the smooth velvet over hot iron. He bucks and curses, a tremor running through him as he whispers my name. And, God, there’s power in that. I’m bringing Blair Callahan to the brink with my touch.
I want to take my time, taste every inch, like I’ve fantasized about nonstop. I also want everything, right now, all at once. I want it all, a full year of everything I’ve lost. I have no idea where to start.
