11. Sage
A thunderous knock reverberates from my door, jolting me into action. I hurry over, flinging it open to reveal Ian, his eyes ablaze with a wild intensity and his hair tousled into a disarrayed mass. In one swift motion, he kicks the door shut and sweeps me off my feet with an unspoken urgency, his grip firm and relentless.
Without uttering a single word, he cradles me in his arms and strides purposefully toward the bedroom. I must appear utterly absurd, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, unable to keep pace with the whirlwind of frantic energy engulfing the room.
He smells like smoke and heat and Ian, and it's doing all kinds of things to my head. I've been alone here, marinating in shock after the chaos of the fire, thinking about everything and nothing. Wondering about him. Of course, he would show up like this, just grab me like a caveman with absolutely zero room for protest. God, I've missed him. How can I be this addicted already?
His strong grip tightens as he kicks the bedroom door open with his boot, and I have a feeling I'm about to find out exactly what happens when an obsessive fireman gets a little too much adrenaline and a whole lot of worry.
"Whoa," I finally manage, though I'm not even sure he can hear me over the sound of his own heavy breathing. "Hi."
He stops just long enough to let me stare into those crazy blue eyes, a deep flash of raw relief mixed with something dark and urgent and so very Ian. He squeezes me harder, just for a second like he's proving to himself I'm real. Like I’m about to disappear. And then we're moving again, my shoulder digging into his hard chest as he hauls me the last few steps and sets me down on the bed.
I land with a bounce, breathless and flustered and more than a little out of my mind. The room feels huge around us, a million miles from where we were this morning when he pulled me out of the smoke at school. He stands over me, big and broad and so damn sure of himself, his intense gaze locked on mine. It’s everything I can do to not fall over backward from the way he looks at me, that serious hero face that makes me forget every little shred of dignity and resistance.
"Ian," I say, and I mean for it to sound like a question, but it comes out as a shiver.
He doesn't answer, not with words. Instead, he leans down, and I feel his hands in my hair, on my clothes, as he tears me out of myself and into him.
My thin T-shirt is the first thing to go, flung behind me somewhere as his lips crash against my neck and my ear and any other part of me he can find. Every touch is fast and heated like he's a man dying of thirst and I'm the only drop of water for miles. Like he's the one who’s been waiting and wondering.
"You okay?" he growls between kisses, though he doesn't let up for one second, doesn't give me a chance to respond or object or do anything but gasp and claw at his back.
"I’m fine," I manage to mutter before he rips my bra right in half. “Hey. That’s brand new,” I grumble.
"Don't care," he says, tossing the shredded pink satin and lace off somewhere in the corner. “I’ll buy you a new one.” I can hear the wild grin in his voice as he yanks my leggings down and moves his hands to the bare skin of my hips.
There's nothing careful about him now, none of that playful fireman charm that had me giddy and falling for him in a damn classroom of all places. This is Ian Too Freaking Hot untamed, a cyclone of relief and desperation with his mouth on mine and his desperation pounding through every inch of him.
My heart matches his beat for beat. I'm dizzy with it, this perfect, insane feeling of being swept away and found all at once. Any other thought melts away under his touch, even as the back of my brain tries to protest that we aren’t discussing everything first.
Then it's not just his hands. It's his everything, and suddenly I'm not just going along with it. I’m all in. I wrap myself around him, pulling him closer with a rush of yes, please, now that leaves nothing unsaid. We tumble together into a tangle of sweat and heat and white-hot chaos, the sounds of his breathing and my disbelief mingling into something completely beyond either of us.
"Thought I lost you," he murmurs against my shoulder, and I can hear in his voice how hard it was, not knowing if I made it out of the building.
I arch into him, threading my fingers through his dark hair and losing myself in the one thing I've wanted since the day we met. "I’m here," I breathe, every word tinged with the same mad certainty, the same passion he hurls at me without hesitation. “We need to talk about yesterday. ”
"Later," he insists, breathless and clipped and totally unconvincing. "Busy now."
His hands sweep under me, pulling me up against him again, his whole body burning with an intensity that would probably scare me if it were anyone else. But this is Ian. He's always all or nothing, fire or ice, yes or hell yes. And right now, he is all of it. And so am I.
The room is a blur of clothes and skin and unhinged declarations. Every frantic motion tells me he can't get enough, and neither can I. Every nerve in me ignites. Every tiny cell I own cries out as he grips me closer and meets me breath for desperate breath.
"Mine," he growls, and I hear the bed creaking beneath us protesting the wild ride.
I feel like I’m on fire, spread out and bare beneath him, every sensation blazing and bright. His lips close around my nipples, mouth moving with such sweet skill that it nearly kills me. The rest of the world dissolves, and it's just Ian and his hands and his mouth and his naked body covering mine.
He nudges me onto my back, so smooth and insistent I almost miss the moment it happens, and then he crawls up my body. He's everywhere and relentless, and I'm greedy for more.
His erection presses against me. "Please," I say, writhing beneath him, wild and restless, wanting everything. He teases me with the time he takes. My skin catches fire and I almost forget how to breathe. I'm his, and he’s mine.
He reaches between my legs, sliding his fingers into my slick, hot core, and I'm lightheaded, overwhelmed by how fast and desperate I am. Sweat breaks across my skin as I arch beneath him, a gasp on my lips that might be his name, might be a wordless plea for something more.
I catch the wild look on his face, a moment so real and intense that I burn it into memory, then it slips away as he teases me with his mouth again, pulling my nipple between his teeth and releasing with a force that shakes the breath from my lungs. The heat pools low in my belly, a restless churning of need.
He’s taking forever, and I love him for it.
I reach for his erection, a boldness I can’t believe, wrapping my fingers around his length, thrilled at the effect I have on him. The need to have him inside me nearly overwhelms me. I stroke him as he moves, hot and unrelenting, and a ragged sound escapes my throat. I want him in every possible way.
He pulls my legs open wide and then his tongue lashes my clit while his fingers push in, hard and deep. I don’t think I can take much more but Ian proves me wrong.
As an orgasm sneaks up on me, I tremble and fight it, but Ian is relentless. It crashes over me, and I feel my inner muscles tighten around his finger. The pleasure roars through me, one wave, endless and insistent. It feels like falling, only faster, harder, and longer. Trying to say his name is useless; my blown mind can’t form the sounds.
The release is so deep and furious it leaves me reeling, aching, gasping for air. When I can see again, my eyes blink open to find him hovering above me, staring down into my eyes. It’s an intensely possessive look that makes me light up and come apart all over again.
Ian pushes inside me, and I can’t believe the things he makes me feel, the way he fills me up with everything he has. His pace is relentless, each thrust its own dizzying explosion. I wrap around him and hold on for dear life.
I don’t know where he ends and I begin. He holds my legs wide, thundering into me with a wildness that makes everything else fade into the background. Ian keeps pushing and driving, and another wave builds and breaks until I can’t count the number of times I shatter around him.
Still, I can’t get enough. I see the moment he finally gives in, gives up his hold on control, and lets himself fall. I hear it in his voice, see it in the way he squeezes his eyes shut, and feel it in the way his fingers dig into my skin. He holds on to me tight while he fills me up. "I love you," he shouts. We fall together and I hold on tight for the wild ride.