Chapter 17
They nearly tumble down the stairs on their way back to the main floor of the sheriff’s building.
It’s hard to keep her balance when Theo has her pinned to the wall on a precariously slim step, her leg wrapped around his thigh, and his tongue chasing hers.
She is drowning in the feel of him around her, against her, consuming her, until they finally make it past the exit door and into the heated office.
Then, everything slows to a crawl. Despite coming here with clear intent, nerves begin to get the better of her.
Maybe he feels it too because his lips leave hers as his forehead rests softly on her own, his ragged breath mingling with her exhales.
The desk across from the holding cell digs into her upper thighs, and he uses his good arm to lift her up onto it.
Her knees part for him as quickly as her body has gone slick in the last few minutes, the throb between her legs beating like an overwhelming plea for contact.
His pants hang unbuttoned and loose on his hips, her shirt is rucked up to her ribs, and their shoes are somewhere across the room amid a pile of old paperwork.
They were frantic enough to get here in record time, but now that the moment is upon them, they falter.
His fingertips trace her waist as her hand cups the wild pulse in his neck.
She almost looks away from the raw intensity of his stare.
No one has ever looked at her like she has the power to break him into a million shattered pieces or put what’s already broken back together, shiny and new.
She knows the feeling, though, because he could easily do the same to her.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
There are so many reasons she told herself this would be a terrible idea, but every what-if and hesitation has already melted away in favor of a truth she’s finally ready to accept.
She wants him. She trusts him. Some hidden part of her reaches out for him in a way that could frighten her if she weren’t so hopelessly head over heels.
Nora’s gaze shifts down to his lips. “Yes.”
That pocket of time they’ve been caught in speeds up at her confirmation, and his mouth finds hers again, the pressure of their kiss leaning her back a few inches while her legs wrap around him, and one hand reaches back to brace herself on the desk.
She hasn’t wondered much about his size because that was a one-way ticket to self-torture over something she couldn’t have, but she can have him now, and the thick press of his cock through their clothes sends a shiver through her frame.
She isn’t used to anything above average, and it’s been a long, long time.
Her muscles tense in anticipation as he thrusts against her.
The warmth of his hands lifts her shirt over her head, soothing the bite of cool air.
They’ve both got too many damn clothes on.
It begins to feel like an obstacle course to get past them.
Her shirt lands on the floor, his tangles in the cell bars, and both their pants hang off a desk chair.
Shyness is a normal reaction on her part.
It’s natural to hide who she is from everyone who gets close.
It almost wins even now. Until his expression changes into a fierce reverence at the sight of her, igniting a blush across the bare skin of her chest.
“Hold onto me,” he growls.
“What? Theo, your shoulder!”
“Don’t worry about me. Never felt better.”
All she can do is hang on as he carries her toward the single cot against the wall, depositing her in a slow descent that strokes something deep in her core, because how the hell did he do that using one arm and not waver an inch?
They collapse together in a cluster of limbs, his weight pushing her into the mattress and her body arching up into him on contact…and then the bed squeaks.
They freeze.
He thrusts his underwear-clad hips against hers in a testing move only to feel the entire frame rattle.
“Oh shit!” He snakes one foot out to brace on the concrete.
Nora laughs, scrambling to escape the collapsing cot, his grip on her narrowly saving her toes from getting squished when the metal meets the floor.
“We barely did anything and we’re already breaking the bed,” she huffs in amusement.
“Don’t say I never made the room shake for ya.”
“I don’t know, the room still seems fine. You definitely defaced government property, though.”
“Me? This was a team effort.” A low rumble vibrates deep in his throat as he grabs the mattress to drag it into the middle of the floor. “Come here. We’ve got the rest of this room to destroy.”
Theo’s arm snakes around her waist as she lets out a half scream of delight, allowing him to drag her down to the newly cushioned floor.
All their amusement fades quickly once he’s hooked two fingers into the waistband of her underwear and begins to drag them off her legs.
She has imagined this moment a dozen different ways, wondering if he might be gentle or rough, if he would leave her satisfied or wanting.
Her feet push his boxers past his hips in an eager move, encouraging him to do the rest. When she feels all of him sliding between her legs, coating himself in her arousal, her body chases his without any input from her brain.
She is nothing but emotion and reaction, responding to the smallest touch or breath, trying to catch the firm tip when it nudges her entrance.
His lips go slack along the seam of hers while she scrapes lightly against his back, down his ribs, and then over the round of his ass, applying the barest hint of pressure.
She has never been more ready to feel him inside her than she is right now, but he doesn’t thrust forward.
She groans in both frustration and pleasure when the tip massages her opening without pushing in.
It’s exquisite torture that has her vibrating as his lips press softly to hers.
Slower now, as if they have all day, and maybe they do.
Maybe she could lie here like this for however long she’s granted his kiss and the promise of his cock.
They linger on the precipice of what they both need, tangled together while prolonging the inevitable until the gentle pressure where she needs him turns insistent and he nudges forward, trying to join them together.
The first burning hint of a stretch has her muscles protesting.
The wrinkling in her forehead and how fast she tenses betray how clearly she’s waiting for the moment that he claims her and forces her to take it.
Her past experiences have either been lackluster or violent.
Neither showed her how to surrender to it in a way that feels easy and right.
That swift moment of pain never comes.
His body stills, the pressure between her legs easing away. “I’ve got you. We’ll go slow. You don’t have to protect yourself from me, remember?”
Just like that, tears spring at the corners of her eyes.
She didn’t even realize that’s what she was doing.
Her body knew, but her brain hadn’t caught up.
He remembered, though. So much has happened since that conversation in the cabin, but he held onto those words this whole time as if they were important. As if they mattered.
“We can stop.” He soothes a kiss to her cheek, chasing a tear with his lips.
“I don’t wanna stop. You don’t have to go slow just for me.” If she isn’t with him tonight, she might combust right here on this dusty jail cell floor.
His reply is more vulnerable than she expected, exposing another layer for her eyes only. “Maybe it’s for me too. I’m not really good at—”
She sucks his bottom lip between her own, cutting him off. “Already the best I’ve ever had.”
Not an ounce of that is a lie. He isn’t even inside her yet and it’s already exceeded every other experience because she is not forced to be here, she isn’t using him to chase oblivion, or to shut out her grief, she’s not going through the motions.
She is present in this moment, only because she desires him, and fuck if that isn’t the best thing she’s ever felt.
There’s a heavy fullness at her entrance as if her imagination is manifesting him there before it’s happened.
None of this means her body is prepared for the reality of taking him in, even if her heart is begging for it.
He pushes into her half an inch at a time, pulling back to offer some relief from the pressure before nudging in again.
She is searing at the edges, but she keeps her legs open and tilts her hips, pressing her temple against his as she finally spreads apart, admitting the swollen tip.
Her muscles clasp around him, but the next thrust is easier.
He groans, sinking into her more fully as her body eases the way with enough wetness she can hear it slicking their movements.
There is so much of him that she struggles not to whimper. In a conditioned effort, she reaches down between them to rub two fingers against herself, trying to block out the pinching stretch with pleasure.
“You good?” he whispers into the shell of her ear, his cock motionless where it lies heavy between her legs.
Nora hums out an agreeable response, relief flooding her when his hand replaces hers to pick up where she left off.
He doesn’t move his hips again, only massages where she’s throbbing, splaying his fingers around his shaft to gather some of the wetness and drag it up to her clit before mimicking the rhythm she started.