Page 81 of From the Wreckage
Reaching over, I turn the lamp on beside the bed, letting light spill through the room. Letting her see all of me.
I peel her sleep shirt away slowly and reverently. My mouth follows where my hands wander—her shoulders, the soft dip of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. When I cup them, she moans, threading her fingers through my hair, whispering my name. My thumbs tease until she’s twisting beneath me. Then I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking deep, watching her arch, nails biting into my scalp.
“Everett,” she breathes.
“Yeah, angel?”
“More.” She arches beneath me. “I need more.”
A wicked smile pulls at my lips as my hands and mouth drift down her stomach. Goosebumps pebble her skin beneath each kiss. She rolls her hips, urging me lower.
“Impatient,” I murmur against her skin. “But tonight, you’re mine. Every inch, every breath, every sound you make.”
Her groan makes me chuckle, but it vanishes when I kiss her trembling skin just above where she aches for me most.
I spread her wide, dragging my tongue slowly over her clit. She fists my hair, tries to grind against my face, but I hold her hips still.
“Let me savor you, angel.” My eyes meet hers. “Trust me.”
A moan spills from her lips when I suck her into my mouth. I alternate between slow, lazy licks and harder strokes that make her cry out. She’s trembling, gasping, shaking apart under me. I bring her close to the edge, then back away, until she’s begging.
“Come for me,” I growl.
She breaks, shattering against my tongue, and I don’t stop. I carry her through it, then do it again. And again. Until I’m drunk on her moans, her taste, the sound of my name on her lips.
When she finally pushes me back, her hazel eyes are fierce despite her trembling. “Your turn.” Her voice is wrecked, but steady.
Her hands tug at my clothes, shaking. She trails her lips over my chest, over the jagged scars I’ve hidden from the world. I expect to see shame in her eyes. But all I see is reverence. Like every ruined piece of me is worth worshipping. It nearly drops me to my knees.
Her fingers and mouth explore me, slowly at first, then with intent. I hiss from the pleasure, my head falling back. But she doesn’t stop, taking my cock into her mouth and teasing me until I’m gasping, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Bri…” My voice breaks.
She smiles faintly, fierce and soft at once. “I’m not finished.”
I groan, nearly losing control. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to?—”
I yank her up, crushing my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp as I roll her beneath me. Our eyes lock, saying everything words can’t.
The moment I sink into her, she cries out my name like a prayer, clinging to me, and I know I’ll never recover.
I start slow, memorizing the way her body fits mine, like she was born for me. Her eyes never waver from mine, fierce and full of belief I don’t deserve. I want to keep her like this forever.
But when my thrusts increase and she starts begging, her nails clawing my back, I give in, driving inside her wetness harder and faster until we’re both lost.
“Everett.” Her voice breaks on my name, her body arching against mine.
We move frantically, desperately, breaking apart and piecing each other back together in every kiss, every vow, every trembling breath.
She shatters around me, sobbing my name, clinging like I’m the only thing keeping her alive. And maybe she’s the only thing keeping me alive, too.
I break with her name on my lips, buried so deep I couldn’t leave her even if I tried.
When it’s over, I collapse against her, panting, our hearts pounding in sync.
Once our breathing steadies, I roll, pulling her close. For once, the silence doesn’t crush me—it saves me. Her heartbeat under my hand steadies something I thought was ruined long ago.
By the time the first streaks of pink stretch across the window, I’m lying on my back, her head tucked against my chest, my arm banded tightly around her waist. For one perfect night, I had all of her. And I know I’ll never recover.
