Chapter 27 #3
I wanted to crawl inside him. Or let him crawl inside me.
Maybe both. I didn’t care that it was reckless and raw and that Ben was somewhere, probably close enough to hear.
I didn’t care about anything except the way Tobias was losing himself, his control stripped away, the way he wanted me with something so brittle and deep that it made me feel dangerous myself.
He fumbled a little, reaching between us, then paused. “We should have brought—something.”
“It’s fine,” I said, and it was, I wanted it to be, needed it to be. And when I said it, Tobias looked at me like I’d just granted him a wish he’d never believed in.
His hands shook as he eased my thighs apart, his mouth trailing down the hollow of my throat, the fine ridges of my ribs, the soft skin lower still, and I realized with a jolt that his trembling was not from cold or fear but from wanting—so much wanting, he lost even the illusion of control he wore around everyone else.
His mouth found its way between my legs, and I nearly arched off the blanket, biting my fist to keep from making a noise so loud it would have startled the gulls from the cliffs neighboring our little slice of paradise. He pressed into me, gentle but insistent, and I keened at the sensation.
It felt obscene, the way he buried his face between my cheeks, tongue flicking in a rhythm that was too much, not enough, then too much all over again, until I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scream or cry or just let myself dissolve.
I’d never had this done to me, and even if I had, it would’ve never been with someone who looked up at me between every flicker of tongue and every breath as if waiting for my permission not to stop, but to keep going, keep going, keep going.
When he finally pulled away, I’d lost all sense of embarrassment; I was writhing, desperate, the ocean wind raking over my bare skin, pebbling my nipples.
He kissed me as if he could drink all the sound out of my body and replace it with his own. I wanted that. I wanted nothing but that.
“Cove,” he whispered, and the syllable of my name was so heavy I thought it might bury me. “I don’t know if I—I probably won’t last very long. I don’t know if I can do it right for you.”
“You can,” I said, and I meant it. “Please. Fuck your cum into me, Daddy. I need it. Please, Tobias.”
I could see the exact moment the words hit him. His breath stuttered, and then his mouth was back on mine, and he kissed me with such intensity I tasted copper, ozone, the black edge of the void he kept buried in himself.
“Please,” I whispered against his jaw. My hands were in his hair, gripping and pulling at the short strands. “Please, Daddy, I need it. Need you.” I had no idea who this was, me begging, but it didn’t matter. I would have begged him for air, for cold water, for death if it had kept us like this.
I loved him. I loved him, and it made me want to be ruined. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to, because his hands were on my hips and his cock was thick between my thighs, and I’d never wanted anything so much in my entire miserable, beautiful life.
He rutted against me once, twice, as if testing the reality of this, of us, and I heard the hitch in his breathing, the raw animal of it. I’d never seen him like this, never seen anyone like this, and I realized I held the power here.
I held his face, thumbs framing his jaw, and looked him straight in the eye so he would know I meant it.
“Do it,” I choked. “I want you. And if it turns out not to be something you like, it’s okay. I won’t love you any less.”
He made a sound, deep and wrecked, and then he was inside me.
It hurt. Not the way I’d expected—more like the ache of something perfectly sharp slicing through every membrane, the shock of being opened for the first time by someone who had never done it before.
He was slow, so slow it was almost agony, his hands trembling worse than mine had ever managed, his face wrenched open like this mattered more to him than breathing.
He made it inside me with a gasp, sliding in and out with these shuddering, desperate pulses, and even when it hurt, I didn’t want to stop.
It didn’t feel like something being taken, but like something finally, finally being given.
The size of him, the heat, the way he tried to go so gently but kept losing it, thrusting deeper than he meant, apologizing with every breath and every time he kissed the side of my throat.
I reached between us, guiding him, my own hand a slick blur.
I felt the pressure building and knew I wasn’t going to last, not even a little.
I wanted him to come first, wanted to know how it looked on him, the moment he let himself be that undone.
“Let go for me, please,” I whispered, not even thinking about what it meant, what I sounded like, how I must have looked with my mouth open and my whole body arching up to meet him.
Tobias’s hands moved to cradle the back of my neck, pulling me up with him, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, clutching him as if I’d die if I let go.
He thrust harder, deeper, and the breath punched out of me with every movement.
He was so close, so present, the sweat from his body beading on his brow before dripping onto me.
I could feel it in each of his short, staggering breaths, the way his stomach flexed against mine, the way his teeth grazed my collarbone as he bit down to keep from making noise.
I wanted to hear him, needed to hear him.
“You can make noise,” I gasped, my voice barely above the wind.
“It’s just us. Just us and the sea,” and the sound he made was a wail, pure and torn, and I think that might have been the moment I actually came apart, pulse stuttering, stars behind my eyes, vision going white even as I clung to him, wanting every second to last twice as long.
He followed me over with a shiver that ran through every inch of him, jaw locked, arms clamped tight around me like he was trying to keep me from breaking apart.
After, he slumped over me, boneless, face pressed into my collarbone, and I let my hands drift through his hair, smoothing it back from his temple.
He was so tense he shook, every exhale ragged, and I realized he was crying, too, not loud but the silent kind that just leaks out because there isn’t any more room in the body for it.
We lay there tangled, the blanket bunched beneath us, and after a few minutes, I started to drift, his softening cock still snug inside of me.
I woke to the ocean, the hiss of midnight tide, and the wind that swept across the sand and plucked at my sweat-cooled skin.
I was half underneath Tobias, and for one long, dumb minute, I thought we were back in the other house, that everything that had happened was a dream, one I’d better not confess to anyone if I valued my visa.
But Tobias was here, his body cradling mine, his breathing slow and heavy, his hands splayed across my back like he was holding me in place against the undertow. I’d come apart in his arms, and the only thing I regretted was that I hadn’t done it sooner.
He stirred when I shifted, murmured something indecipherable against my neck, and then let out a quiet, wordless sound that might have been my name.
I tried to memorize the way he looked right now—hair gone wild from my hands, face raw with tears and salt, the faintest ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
I wanted to wake him, to ask him how he felt about what had just happened, but I liked the idea of being the one to watch over him for once instead of the other way around.
I craned my head up, happy that I could see the sky past his shoulder.
The stars were innumerable, scattered like the wreckage of something huge and ancient over the darkness.
The sea air kept me just this side of shivering, and I realized with a kind of shy horror I’d been grinning the whole time I lay there, my cheeks aching from it, my skin so alive I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again.
I ran my fingers up and down Tobias’s back, mapping the subtle ridges of his spine and the shape of his muscles.
We could deal with the whole murder thing in the future. Because that was what I knew for sure I wanted now.
A future with Tobias Kelly.