Chapter 37 #3
He positioned himself at her entrance, the slick heat of her a promise against his sensitive tip.
He pushed forward, and the first tight, yielding clench of her body around his cock stole the air from his lungs.
It wasn't just heat. It was a grip, a possessive welcome that sent a jolt of pure electricity up his spine.
A guttural groan was ripped from his chest as he sank deeper, inch by incredible inch, her body stretching to accommodate him, the friction so exquisite it bordered on pain.
This was real. The frantic, detached encounters of his past dissolved into meaningless static.
This was Blair, the scent of her skin in his lungs, her nails digging into his shoulders, her soft gasp in his ear as he finally, finally buried himself to the hilt.
He began to move, and something inside him broke open. It wasn't a violent fracture, but a clean, deep crack that let all the light in. He was giving himself to her in a way that felt like he was handing over his still-beating heart.
As he withdrew for the first time, a soft, desperate sound escaped her lips, and her legs tightened around him, pulling him back in as if she couldn't bear the loss of him for even a second. "Kelly," she gasped, her hands flying to his face, her thumbs stroking his jaw. "Oh, God, don’t stop."
Her words were the final blow. With each stroke, he was letting go of a piece of the man he thought he had to be, the fighter, the fortress, the lone wolf.
His emotions crowded and spilled over him, a tidal wave of love and fear and a soul-deep relief.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, her heels pressing into his lower back.
Her breathing was a ragged counterpoint to his own, her hands roamed his skin, her nails scraping lightly, sending shivers down his spine.
She met him thrust for thrust, her hips rising to take all of him, her gaze locked on his, telling him without words that she was right there with him, shattering right alongside him.
His life wouldn't be the same. He knew it with a certainty that settled into his bones. He surrendered to his body and soul for the sake of this woman, and in her arms, he finally understood. This wasn't weakness. This was the only strength that had ever mattered.
Her bare breasts were crushed against his chest, her knees bracketing his hips, and the urge to possess her in the most elemental way possible overwhelmed him.
But this wasn't about possession; it was about communion.
He shifted his angle just slightly, and the change was instantaneous.
Her breath hitched, her nails digging into his shoulders as he hit that spot deep inside her that made her whole body tremble.
Her body tightened, a tremor starting deep within her.
"Oh god, Kelly," she gasped, her head falling back, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"That's so good." He watched her face, captivated by the raw pleasure unfolding there, and drove into her again, a deliberate, powerful thrust that sent her over.
She cried out, her inner muscles clenching around him in a rhythmic, pulsing grip that was his undoing.
The feeling of her coming apart around him shattered the last of his control.
The careful, focused lover was gone, replaced by the primal, possessive man he'd been so terrified of.
But this wasn't taking. This was a shared surrender to the storm.
Tangling his fingers in her hair, he held her head and slanted his mouth across hers in a hot, deep, tongue-tangling kiss, swallowing her cries as he began to move in earnest, surging into her, again and again, tearing a moan from the back of her throat.
His strokes became faster, longer, ruthlessly demanding and a whole lot more primal. With each thrust he felt himself grow harder, thicker, until desire and need collided into white-hot heat and an all-consuming pleasure that threatened to engulf him.
Lost in the rush of sensation, lost in her, he wrenched his mouth from hers, tossed his head back in pure ecstasy, and arched into her one last time, high and hard and infinitely deep.
A guttural growl tore from his chest, and his entire body shuddered as he came, harder and stronger than he could ever remember. His scorching release seemed to go on and on, wringing him dry and leaving him weak and devastated, until he could do nothing else except collapse on top of Blair.
He buried his face against her neck, his body shuddering with the aftershocks.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their harsh breathing.
Then her hand began a slow, steady stroke down his spine, a calming, repetitive motion.
Another kiss, this one to his shoulder. In the quiet safety of her touch, the noise in his head finally subsided.
The truth wasn't a sudden lightning bolt, but a slow dawn.
He hadn't been erased by his mother's lies or Derrick's blood, but he had been found. He wanted connection, openness…love. His gut twisted with it, and Blair, God, she was so sweet, so smart, so open, so goddamned real, he almost couldn’t handle everything at once.
“What do you say Goldilocks? Everything was just right. Wanting me felt so goddamned good,” Breakneck said softly, lifting himself up and bracing his elbows on either side of her, the pleasure still tingling through him, still buried deeply inside her.
She met his gaze, her body loose and yielding beneath him, her expression tender and sweet. “Everything with you feels so right,” she murmured, nuzzling his jaw, then with a soft exhale, she buried her face in the hollow of his throat. “Do you think life can recalibrate now. Give us some respite?”
He played with the loose hair on her pillow, then tugged it. “I hope so. All I know is that I wish the world would disappear for about six weeks and I can stay right here with my insatiable woman.”
She bit his shoulder. “I’m not sure you even have enough stamina for that.”
He chuckled and drew her tight to him. “I’d give it my best shot.”