Page 209 of The Fall
I kneel behind him and cover his back with my chest, lining us up until every inch of me fits against him. My cock slides over his lube-and-spit-slick hole, and my arm wraps around him, holding him tight. I pour more lube over myself as the length of my cock rocks against his ass.
He reaches for my hand, lacing us together and holding our palms over his heart. His other hand braces flat on the mattress.
I pitch forward and rest my cheek against his. He twists to kiss me, hot and messy from this angle, ferocious and frantic at once. His teeth scrape my lips. “Go slow.”
“I will,” I promise.
I enter him slowly, so slowly; his body swallows me by fractions.
The heat of him is staggering. I push in another slow inch. He clenches around me, and his breath catches, his spine bowing just a little too far. “You okay?” I whisper against his neck.
“Don’t stop.”
I obey, pushing forward again, letting him set the pace with the yielding of his body, and the slick slide gives way to a perfect, gripping friction. His back relaxes, his hips tilting to meet my slow advance.
He lets out a long, broken moan when I’m buried to the hilt, and we stay joined like that, chest-to-back, heart-to-heart, joined but motionless. I kiss his temple, his ear, the line of his jaw. He turns his head, and our lips meet.
“I love you,” he gasps.
“I love you,” I breathe into him. “So fucking much.”
“I’m yours,” he whispers. He pushes back on me, hips grinding until I gasp against him, and then we’re rocking together, slow thrusts that build as I fuck into him.
His sounds are ragged, filling the small space of the room. My free hand roams everywhere it can reach: along his ribs, down his flank, over the taut muscle of his thigh. His voice is broken syllables. “Torey—yes—don’t stop—love you?—”
I tuck my face into the curve of his neck, and my lips linger behind his ear, whispering “I love you” over and over again. He hums when I bite, hard enough to leave a mark. My teeth graze the tender skin again, tasting the faint tang of sweat, and I suck gently, pulling a sharper sound from him.
My hips roll into him, each thrust sinking deeper. The friction is maddening, every inch of him pulling me in. His skin is slick under my palm, hot to the touch, and my breath fans over the damp curve of his neck. Our mouths meet in desperate half-kisses.
I shift my angle, searching for that spot, and when I hit it, his whole body jerks. A sharp, shattered cry leaves him. His hips buck against me, a frantic, mindless yearning for more. I did that, I’m the one breaking him apart like this. My thrusts grow firmer, chasing his rapture, desperate to hear him fall apart. My hand slips lower still, brushing over the coarse hair before wrapping around his cock. He’s hard and heavy in my hand, and he bucks into my touch.
“Torey—fuck, please,” he chokes out, voice splintered.
My lips graze the shell of his ear, teeth catching the lobe. My hand works him in time with my thrusts, thumb sliding over the slick head of his cock and gathering the wetness there. His muscles tighten around me, pulling me deeper.
The slide of our bodies is messy and perfect, but I hold on, drawing it out, needing to feel him shatter first. His back bows, a beautiful arc of surrender, and another shattered sound rips from his throat as his body gives a violent jerk.
I drop my forehead to his shoulder. My thrusts turn desperate; I’m losing control. “Blair,” I gasp. His cock jerks in my hand, and I tighten my grip, working him through orgasm as his release spills hot over my fingers.
My hips snap forward one final time, burying myself inside him as my orgasm tears through me. Stars burst behind my eyelids, my entire body seized in that perfect moment of release, every muscle drawn tight.
Silence follows, save for our ragged breathing. My forehead rests against his back, our hands still laced together over hisheart. I don’t want to move. Ever. I want to stay like this for the rest of time.
But eventually, my muscles protest. I ease out of him and roll to his side. Blair’s arm wraps around me immediately, pulling me against him. His eyes catch the light, dilated and deep. They are so blue, so deep, like looking into the heart of the ocean, and I want to drown in them.
We breathe together in the quiet aftermath. My body aches in the sweetest ways. The ceiling fan spins lazily above us, stirring the warm air. Outside, waves whisper. I close my eyes and soak in every moment.
His breath ghosts along my shoulder, slow and steady, a gentle tide ebbing back. He shifts behind me, nuzzling closer until there isn’t a sliver of space left between us.
Tomorrow we’ll pack our bags and board a plane and return to the real world. But not yet.
Our last day on the island vanishes like water through cupped hands. We wake tangled together in white sheets that smell like sex, and we trade slow kisses, neither of us wanting to acknowledge the packed bags by the door.
“We have to go,” Blair breathes against my lips.
“Five more minutes,” I say, pulling him closer.
Those five minutes turn into thirty.
