Page 51 of The Fall
I want to be deserving of all this joy he’s feeling right now, but my brain is on fire with so many questions. What kind of person am I? What did I do for Hayes and Erin? What does he see when he looks at me?
“Torey.” Blair pushes off the wall. “You okay?”
There’s no easy answer. Every part of me wants to say yes, wants to meet his warmth with my own, but… It’s too much, too bright, the wanting, the ache to be enough for him?
His hand finds mine, and he waits, patient as always, eyes steady. He’s so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at him sometimes. It’s like staring directly into sunlight or trying to catch a star falling from the sky; it’s brilliance that’s impossible to hold.
He’s everything to me. Everything.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m good.”
But what if I’m not enough? What if this happiness isn’t really meant for me?
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice drops to a whisper. “You look like you’re carrying the world.”
Why is it so hard to believe him, even now, with his hand in mine? The impulse to confess rises, to spill how lost I feel inside the bright, unstoppable tide of his love.
His eyes soften. “Whatever it is,” he says, “we’ll handle it together.”
Maybe he already knows; he seems to know me better than I do. Maybe he can see every jagged edge under my skin, all the pieces I keep turning over, hunting for where they fit.
I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder. He smells like home, like sunshine and saltwater and happiness, and I hold on to him and say, “Together.”
It’s two in the morning.
I never went back to my room. I didn’t even bother to pretend to.
Instead, I’m still sprawled across Blair’s sheets, one leg tangled with his, my arm slung over his side. His arm is draped over my waist as if he knows I’m not going anywhere, and he’s right.
He burns a trail of kisses along my jaw, his voice a rough heat against my skin. “You ruin me.” His lips part over the frantic pulse in my neck. “Every part of you.”
I can’t think. I can only feel.
He traces the seam of my lips with his tongue, nudging them apart. His tongue meets mine, and the kiss deepens, shifting from want into a raw, staggering need.
I open for him, dragging him in, and Blair settles between my thighs, his strong hands locking onto my hips like he’s claiming territory. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him to mebecause he’s never close enough. He fits to me like key and lock, no empty spaces. “I need you,” I beg.
His eyes are midnight blue and burning. Our noses brush. “I’m yours.”
And then he’s kissing me again, unwriting every thought, stealing the air from my lungs and replacing it with himself. He is the only solid thing; everything else is spinning away.
He slides his palms down my ribs, and my skin catches fire. I’m trembling, unraveling. Breathy gasps and needy whimpers fill the air, torn from me. He is taking me apart piece by piece, reducing me to a shivering, wanting mess, and the bedsheets twist beneath my fists.
His tongue flicks lower, teasing. I gasp at his soft lips, his rough stubble, the slick pressure of his tongue as he takes his time with my nipple, circling it with his tongue before drawing it between his teeth.
My breath stutters out in a broken moan. Blair’s teeth graze just enough to send sparks chasing over each and every nerve. He moves lower, tracing my abs with open-mouthed kisses.
When his tongue dips into my navel, my cock jerks, drooling a smear on my skin.
He breathes against the trail of hair below my navel and swipes his tongue through my precome. I feel him smile against me as I shiver. “Please,” I whisper.
He works his way down the inside of my thigh, teeth scraping at spots that make me flinch and gasp. My legs fall open wider. My cock is so hard it hurts, flushed dark and dripping onto my stomach, twitching with my heartbeat.
The first swipe of his tongue up the underside of my cock wrenches a sob out of me.
It’s slick heat and velvet drag, and he laps along my length. Every lick draws a new sound from me, and the world blurs to color and ache.
Blair’s mouth closes over the head, tongue flicking through the mess he finds there. My thighs tremble where they bracket his shoulders, muscles straining for more, for anything he’ll give. I want him to swallow me whole, to taste every shuddering plea tangled on my tongue.
