Chapter 11 #2
The pressure built. Coiling tighter. My hips rocking, chasing it, so close, right there...
Gaze locked on mine.
Watching me. Watching me come apart for him.
That did it.
The orgasm slammed through me. I cried out, his name without sound, just breath, and clenched around him while he worked me through it, merciless, drawing it out until I was shaking and tugging at his hair because it was too much.
Only then did he slow, rising up my body, lips slick and swollen.
He paused halfway up. Pressed a kiss to my hip bone. My ribs. The hollow of my throat. Not rushed. Deliberate. Like he was mapping me, claiming every inch.
His forehead dropped to mine, and we breathed each other’s air for a moment. Locked together. Both trembling.
I dragged him up, kissing him hard, tasting myself. He made a low noise and settled between my thighs, his cock pressing against me, still clothed, still a barrier between us.
“Off,” I managed, clawing at the waistband. “Get them off. Now.”
He yanked them down, kicking them away, and then there was nothing between us.
Just skin and fire and him.
I wrapped around his cock, thick, solid, and he made that guttural sound, hips jerking into my grip. Shuddering. Finally not controlled. Finally as wrecked as I was.
“Inside. I need you inside.”
He positioned himself, the head pressing against my entrance.
He paused. Watching me. Dark. Fierce. Asking.
But also...
Vulnerable. Raw. Like he was offering me everything and terrified I’d refuse.
“Yes. Please...”
He pushed inside, and the stretch burned, thick, filling, exactly what I craved.
The fullness of him punched the air from my lungs.
Oh god. This. Him. Finally.
Something cracked open in my chest, not pain, something worse. Something that felt like relief and terror wrapped together. Like I’d been holding my breath for days and could finally gasp air.
His forehead dropped to mine, watching me, and I saw it, the same breaking happening in him. Jaw tight. Throat working. That careful mask he wore completely shattered.
We stayed frozen like that. Connected. Breathing each other’s air. Just feeling it.
Then his hips rolled, and rational thought stopped.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, dragging him deeper, and he made that raw noise when he bottomed out.
“Move. Please move...”
He pulled back and slammed home. Hard. The bed frame hit the wall. Again. Again.
No slow build. Just fierce, desperate claiming.
I watched him above me, muscles in his arms flexing, abs tensing with each movement, jaw clenched tight, burning into mine.
Wrecked. Finally wrecked. All that lethal control stripped away until there was this, us, need.
“Harder.”
He complied, hips driving into me hard enough to shake the entire bed. The frame creaked loudly, my gasps filling the room with each thrust.
Full. So full. Can’t...
Shoving between us, thumb finding my clit, circling hard while he drove into me. No finesse. Just pressure. Friction. Hunger.
I shoved at his shoulders. “My turn.”
He pulled out, and before he could catch his breath, I pushed him flat against the mattress. Followed him down, thigh sliding over his hip as I straddled him. Sank down in one hard, claiming motion that punched the air from both our lungs.
Fuck. Deeper like this. So much deeper.
Palms flat on his chest, I rode him, hard, fast, chasing the heat coiling tight in my belly.
Fingers dug into my hips, bruising, dragging me down harder with every movement, and the roughness of it made me gasp.
But his face...
God, his face.
Jaw tight. Throat working. Burning into mine like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. Not controlled. Not the careful, gentle touches he always gave me. Just raw, savage need.
And those lethal, callused fingers that had killed two men yesterday shook where they gripped my hips. Reverent even in desperation.
“Close. Gonna...”
He circled faster, and the pressure, inside, outside, everywhere...
I came watching his face.
Watching him break with me.
“Fuck...”
The orgasm tore through me, clenching rhythmically around his cock.
Lips opened on a silent cry, the sound he couldn’t make, the words he couldn’t say, and I felt him pulse, his own release ripping through him.
Face tight with pleasure, grip bruising on my hips, holding me down while he emptied into me.
Gaze stayed fixed on mine the entire time. Never looked away. Like he needed to see me. Needed me to see him.
Vulnerable. Utterly exposed.
Yes. This. Alive.
I collapsed forward onto his chest, both of us gasping, hearts racing together.
Arms came around me immediately, tight, almost frantic, holding me against him like I might disappear. One palm cradled the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. The other splayed across my back, hot against my spine.
Shaking. He was shaking.
I pressed my lips to his throat, felt his pulse hammering there. His whole body trembled beneath me.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered against his skin. “I’m right here.”
The trembling eased. Grip tightened for a moment, then gentled. His thumb traced slow circles on my back, grounding himself. Grounding us both.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Just gasping. Hearts pounding. Sweat cooling on skin.
Real. Alive. Human.
Holy shit.
That was...
He’s...
Fuck.
His heartbeat steadied beneath my ear, strong and even. Mine matched it, settling into rhythm.
My brain slowly came back online. Thoughts filtering back in.
We just...
After yesterday...
Holy shit.
But I felt good. Grounded. Human.
Alive.
Movement on my back. Not patterns. Just holding. Like he craved the contact as much as I had.
I should say something. Acknowledge what happened. But what the hell did you say after desperate release-valve sex with a mute fugitive the morning after witnessing double homicide?
‘Thanks for the orgasms’ seemed insufficient.
‘That was a healthy coping mechanism’ was a lie.
Holy shit.
We’d crossed a line we couldn’t uncross.
And I didn’t regret a single second.
But lying here in the aftermath, wrapped around him, both of us still gasping, reality starting to seep back in...
Part of me wondered what the hell we’d done.
And part of me didn’t care.
Because for the first time since that alley, I felt human.
And that was worth whatever complicated mess we’d created.
Reality could wait.
At least a few more minutes.
Arms tightened around me, and I closed my lids.
Yeah. A few more minutes.
Then we’d deal with the rest.