Chapter 25 Galen #2
I didn’t teach him this. Somehow, he just knows—because somehow he knows me—he sees me.
Because he was made for me.
Sab shifts over me again, aligning our bodies as I groan into his mouth, my shaking hands framing his face, and—
Holy shite, for a fleeting second, my whole body is nothing but pain.
Tearing agony. But that feeling, it’s mercifully brief, fast replaced by grounding pleasure that has my eyes fluttering shut with the force of it.
With the sheer consuming pressure of having Sab inside me, compressing every nerve into overdrive.
I feel him trembling.
Force my eyes open. “It’s a lot, eh?”
For him. For me.
“More than a lot.” Sab presses his forehead to mine, flexing his hips with careful insistence, searching for rhythm, for synchronicity, tipping me into a slow motion spin I’m so unprepared for I almost fecking laugh. Why does everything about him and me feel so timeless and brand new all at once?
There’ll be time to think about that later. When Sab is done with me. When the tender, feral cadence he finds so naturally has chewed me up and spat me out.
I’ve had a lot of sex with a lot of people. But not like this.
Never like this.
Christ, it’s so good.
I’m still clutching Sab’s face.
I grip him tighter, arching my back to bring us ever closer, the wounds on my body so far from my mind it’s as if they never existed. “Don’t be too gentle with me. I like it hard.”
Sab snatches a breath, dark gaze flashing.
He drives into me with measured force, the kind you don’t see coming, and I match him, the edge of reason a fecking dot to me right now, hooked on his strong body flexing and straining, the taut muscles of his back.
The precision he nails me with as his gaze never leaves mine.
Then it does and I’m on my knees, chest flat to the bed, face buried in my folded arms.
Oblivion.
My breath comes in ragged bursts, every other sound muffled and smothered, tremors running down my spine as Sab enters me again and curves his body around mine.
His arms cage me, his chest to my back, bed creaking, sheets twisting, flesh colliding with that subtle, savage intent he’s apparently so good at.
We’re a tangled mess of pent-up emotions.
Of newfound honesty and trust.
I swear to God, I start to black out from it.
No.
I can’t—can’t miss a moment of this, and as the first shiver of release bears down on me, I press my fists to the bed and force myself up.
Sab catches me, curling an arm around my abdomen, taking my weight, holding his rhythm.
He buries his face in my neck, biting me there before his mouth moves to my ear. “I dreamed about fucking like this. In my head, though, I was always where you are. Never knew it could be so good from the top.”
I did. From the second I met him, I knew anything we did together would be like this. But I’m beyond speech again. Beyond anything but pushing back against him, my vision swimming, and choking out a warning I’m about to fall off a cliff.
Sab makes a rough noise—half groan, half gasp, and he slows down, grinding the pleasure from us both, deep and devastating, every thrust propelling me higher and higher until I spiral into one last tumble of sweet bliss, and I don’t come back.
I come so fecking hard. Into absolute silence, save my heaving breath.
Sab’s name is a prayer on my lips, but I don’t let the crazed shout escape me, and I’m glad of it.
That I get to hear him break apart too—his growled French curses, his full-body shudder.
The bitten off moan that shatters me all over again as we become nothing but shivers and synced heartbeats.
I’m ruined.
Destroyed.
I’ve never come like that. With my whole fecking being.
There’s nothing left of me. I slump against Sab and he holds me up, murmuring French against my jaw as I slowly return to earth.
Takes me a minute to catch on that he’s switched to English. “You okay? You need to lie down?”
Probably. But I’m so content in his arms I don’t want to move. Lucky for me, Sab gets it, and I’m on my back before I know what’s happening, dazed as he strokes my face.
“I need to tell you something.”
Wariness creeps into his dark gaze. “Okay.”
“That night we spent together, when you fell asleep. I’ve never done that with anyone else—not in my bed. I should’ve told you then how I felt about you—I should’ve known. Can’t believe it took me thinking you’d done a bunk to knock some sense into me.”
Sab shifts a little closer, if such a thing is possible. Quiet for a moment, processing. Thinking. I don’t know. I’m so dizzily tired now I reckon I’d have my head in the sink if he wasn’t here to anchor me.
“You thought I’d left?” He says eventually. “Like your dad?”
I hum an affirmative. “Not sure I put the pieces together at the time, but probably.”
He’s still grazing his thumb over my cheekbone. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I was hiding at Tam’s.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’d have figured that out for myself if I’d looked beyond the end of my own fecking nose.”
“I deleted my FlingIt account too.”
“I know. I got rid of mine in the car on the way over here.”
Sab’s thumb stills for a beat. Then restarts, with the added bliss of his free hand splayed across my belly, his legs tangled with mine as he eases me into a closer embrace, and I sink into his effortless comfort with a low moan.
“You’re so good at this part.”
“Which part is that?”
“The part that makes me feel like you’re my home.” The words fall out of me unchecked. As if I’m drunk, and I don’t give a single shite. “I’m trying to tell you I love you, in case I’m not being clear.”
There’s a chance I’m not. I’m so poleaxed by fatigue I can’t be sure I’m not slurring. But Sab…
He smiles and it’s everything I need. He always has been, I just didn’t fecking know it. “Regarde-moi, mon c?ur. Juste moi. I think I might love you too.”