Page 191 of The Fall
But I do; it’s in the tremor of his hands, the catch in his breath, and in his eyes when he pulls back to look at me, pupils blown.
His mouth finds mine again, softer now, slower. I sigh into the kiss, and he rolls us until I’m on my back and he’s hovering above me, braced on one arm, his gaze searching mine. He drops an open-mouthed kiss to my sternum, then another, then another, each one moving lower than the last, until my thighs bracket his shoulders. Each kiss, each touch of his tongue leaves a trail of fire on my skin.
He kisses along the inside of my leg as slow as water rising up a sandbar.
“Please,” I breathe.
The wet heat of his mouth engulfs my cock, and my back arches off the bed. My hands clutch at the sheets as he works me with his tongue, bringing me right to the edge before pulling back. “Turn over,” he whispers.
Blair’s hands caress my back, my thighs, before gently spreading me open. The air goes thin, and my thoughts narrow to the warmth of his tongue, the shock of it circling me, then pressure,oh?—
The first touch of his tongue rips a desperate sound from me. “Blair,” I gasp, burying my face in the pillow.
He takes his time, his tongue circling, teasing, before pushing inside. My hips rock back against him, seeking more, and the world dissolves into the slow drag of his lips and his tongue over me and within me. He licks deeper and I keen, my nerves fraying, my voice breaking apart on his name. He doesn’t stop, and doesn’t let up.
Every inch he claims with his lips and his tongue redraws the map of me. He has me so open, so bare to him; he’s all I know. There is nothing else.
Blair lifts his head only enough for his voice to reach me: “Touch yourself.”
I get my knees under me and fist my cock. “Blair, fuck, fuck—” His tongue is relentless, and I’m gasping. Heat knots behind my eyes; I stroke myself faster.
Blair pushes his tongue deeper into me as I’m reaching the edge, and that’s it. Everything contracts, my throat closing around a shout, nerves sizzling and crackling, muscles seizing up from toes to fingertips to the crown of my skull. I come, hard and helpless, everything forced out of me.
“Torey,” he whispers when I go limp beneath him. He rests his forehead on the back of my thigh, his breath ragged. Finally, he crawls up beside me. “You’re perfect like this,” he says.
I’m still trembling, aftershocks rippling through me, my skin hypersensitive where his body meets mine. “Look who’s talking,” I say. Blair’s lips are swollen, his cheeks flushed. His eyes are dark, only a thin ring of blue visible.
I pull him closer until our bodies align, skin to skin. His cock is hard against my hip. “I need more of you,” I whisper.
He kisses me deeply; I taste myself on his tongue. His hand slides down my back and cups my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I reach between us, wrapping my fingers around his cock and stroking him.
His breath hitches against my mouth as his hips push forward, seeking more friction, more pressure. He’s perfect in my hand, his hot, hard, and silken skin sliding under my palm. I twist my wrist on the upstroke, thumb circling the head, and the sound he makes burns straight through me.
He pants against my ear, gripping my ass, urging me closer. His thighs tense against mine, muscles bunching under smooth skin. The heat between us builds.
“Don’t stop,” Blair groans.
My hand moves faster, grip tightening. His hand tangles in my hair, tugging. I gasp, and he swallows it with a kiss. “Torey, yes,” he moans. “Yes, yes.” He comes with my name on his lips.
I stroke him through his release until his body goes slack beneath me. I release him slowly, drawing gentle lines down his spent cock. We stay locked together, hearts hammering.
Eventually, he lifts his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “So,” he says. “What do you want to do? Beach? Pool? Dinner?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and roll on top of him. The room smells of sex and salt, and outside our window, the ocean stretches endlessly blue and beautiful.
“None of the above.” I’m not ready to leave this bed.
He raises an eyebrow. “No? The resort has five restaurants. We could try that seafood place on the pier.”
“Later.” I drop my lips to his jaw and suck.
“What are we going to do then?”
I push up onto one elbow, looking down at him: his tousled hair, the flush still fading from his chest, the way his eyes are shining, the grin he’s trying to hide.
“I think you know exactly what I want to do.”
His smile is slow and devastating. “Yeah. I think I do.” He pulls me into a kiss. A low sound rumbles from him, less a growl than a tide dragging loose stones along the shore. My arms lock behind his neck; I pull him closer until there is no space between us.
