Page 90 of The Space Between
When he lifts me, I wrap my legs around his waist without hesitation.
He carries me through his cabin, past the shadows of memories that still linger in every corner, and up the stairs. When he lays me on the bed where he holds his ghosts and is scared to face his demons, I reach for him like he’s the only one that matters now.
“I want you,” I whisper.
His jaw is tight. His body is coiled. His eyes are uncertain, but he nods and kneels between my knees. Reaching for the button on my shorts, he whispers my name, “Blakelyn.”
He says it like a promise… over and over. He strips me slowly, taking his time, and pressing reverent kisses along my stomach, my ribs, my throat… every inch of skin he reveals.His hands memorize every sliver of skin like he’s replacing the shadows with me. His mouth finds my breast, his tongue teasing, his teeth dragging, and I arch into him, trembling already.
“Gruene,” I breathe.
He growls and slides down my body, burying his face between my thighs. He breathes against my mound, and I gasp while I look down. His dark head between my thighs makes my pulse stutter. And then, he looks up. Locking his eyes with mine, he holds me captive while he flicks my clit with his tongue. I moan loudly, “Gruene…” He sucks it, and then, drags his tongue through my folds before circling my clit again, like he’s starving for the taste of me.
“Fuck—” My hands fist his hair, and I hold on for dear life as he eats me. My head threatens to roll back but I don’t want to look away. Tightening my hold on his hair, I writhe beneath him as he worships me like a man possessed.
He parts my thighs wider, kneading them as his tongue circles, strokes, and plunges inside of me. He’s so good, so relentless. It’s the most delicious torture. Bucking, I ride his face until I’m sobbing his name,“Gruene… Ohhhhhhh, Gruene…”I shatter, screaming at the ceiling.
He doesn’t move, just continues lightly licking me as aftershocks rock through me until I beg him to stop. “Baby… too much… I can’t…”
Finally, he climbs over me, his forearms bracketing my head as he nudges against me, “You still want this?” he asks, his voice gutted.
In answer, I arch into him and reach between us, circling him and stroking him. “Yes.”
He moans but asks, “You sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I reply, guiding him to my entrance, pushing his head through my folds.
Nodding once, he pushes inside me. “Good… because I need to fuck you, Blakelyn.”
We both gasp as he bottoms out.
There’s no pain, only pleasure. No resistance… onlyhome.
He moves slowly, pulling out to the tip before rocking back in.
He stretches me, filling me deep. I’m so full. It’s perfect.
“Blakelyn…” he groans. “You feel like you were made for me.”
My nails dig into his back as his face drops to my throat. He bites at the curve of my shoulder as he really starts to move. It’s not desperation… it’sneed… it’sgrief and hunger and longing all wrapped in the rhythm of two broken people trying to find peace in each other’s bodies.
He slams into me like he’s learning how to feel again… like every thrust is a step toward forgiveness.
I take it all while asking for more.
I whimper. I cry. I claw at his back before running my hands over the ridges of muscle and scars.
“I see you,” I whisper. “I seeallof you. And I want it. I want it all and I wantmore.”
My back arches and I scream his name… again. “Gruene… Ohhhhhh… oh, baby… ohhhhhhhhh… I lo…” I stop myself… barely.
His rhythm intensifies, he slams into me as his mouth crashes to mine and helets go.
He drives into me hard, deep, and reckless. Breaking the kiss, he growls my name like a prayer and a curse, and he shatters. He comes, with his entire body, his entirebeing,unraveling inside me.
I come with him…again. My legs lock around him. I’m clinging to him with my arms and legs, touching whatever I can reach. I’m desperate for him… desperate to let him know that I love him… even if I can’t say the words.
We collapse, tangled in sweat and breath and soul, I don’t let go… even when he starts to shake.
