“I want it to be good for you,” he said against my jaw. “Let me do that.”
He picked up the pace then, rocking into me with steady thrusts that pulled apart nearly every stitch of coherent thought in my mind. There was never a moment when it wasn’t blindingly, frighteninglygood. If anything, it just kept getting better. “What if I want you to be wild? What if that’s what makes it good for me?”
“Not yet. Not now. The next time—all the times after can be wild.”
He kissed me, presumably to shut me up, and I let him. I drowned in those kisses, opening and melting even more, and I let him continue with his careful, measured pace. I was unbelievably full, stretched in the best, most addictive ways. It had never been like this before and a sliver of me wondered if this would always be the way of it for us. Could it? No. No, this was a collision of crossed lines and tension. This was a single moment in time, a flash of lightning, a shooting star, a blue moon.
This was already better than all my previous experiences, independent study included, and if I quieted down for a second, I could sense the catastrophe of an orgasm pulling together behind my belly button.
Perhaps that was why I ran my hand up the back of Beckett’s neck, my fingers tangled in his hair when I lifted my lips to his ear and whispered, “Can I tell you what I need right now?”
“Anything,” he rasped, his steady rhythm faltering for one perfect, unrestrained moment. “Anything, it’s yours.”
“I need you to fuck me like this is your one and only chance,” I said, deadly calm. I needed him to believe me, even if I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “If you don’t, I’m going to throw you off this bed and finish the job by myself. Is that what you want?”
“Not tonight, no, butdefinitelysoon.”
The tension in his shoulders gathered like he was shifting into another gear and he hooked one arm under my knee, tucking it up against his ribs. I could barely swallow around the overwhelming pressure of him. I loved it. I wanted to pick up the fragments of this moment and rub them into my skin so I could remember it everywhere, always.
With a one-sided smile that sent a shiver through my chest, he said, “I’m well the fuck aware that this is my one and only chance, storm cloud.”
He thrust into me hard, sending the headboard hammering against the wall. I ran my hands up his arms, over his shoulders. Holding on anywhere I could. “Show me.”
“I think you like to see how far you can push me,” he said, trailing his fingers down the side of my neck, between my breasts, over my belly. Stopped a few inches away from my clit.
It was torture. I loved this too.
My eyes rolled back as he fell into an unrelenting rhythm and my heartbeat lined up with the bang of the headboard against the wall. “Of course I do.”
“I think you like this too.” He settled more of his weight between my legs and slipped two fingers between my folds, finding my clit like he knew it better than his own name. “Even though you said you didn’t.”
That catastrophe, it was coming for me. “I didn’t think I would. Like it,” I added. “I haven’t before.”
He ducked his head to the crook of my neck while his cock split me in half and his fingers drew patient circles around me. “What changed?”
“You know what changed.” I tipped my face back to kiss him, but we were lost in this moment, breathless and frantic and somehow shocked that we were there, out of control and careening toward that cliff. I settled for a hand on the back of his neck and my parted lips on his jaw, his throat. “You know exactly what changed.”
It was then that Beck lost his grip on the promise to make it good for me—and by extension, hide away all his wild and his reckless. And it wasn’t good anymore, it was otherworldly. He looped my legs around his waist and shoved his arms underneath me, and buried himself inside me like he wanted to hide all of his secrets there. He dropped his head to my chest and worshipped my nipples, sucking and teasing.
“I want to watch you ride me forhours,” he said through a groan. “I want to taste you everywhere. Roll over in the middle of the night and slide into you. Wake up in the morning and do it all over again. I want to fuck you forever and then another forever and then even longer. I want every fucking inch of you, Sunny.”
“Okay.” There was no other answer. I was almost drowsy from the rush of pleasure building inside me and though it hadn’t crossed my mind until this precise moment, I wanted all these things too.
“I think,” he started, his hips pumping in erratic thrusts, “you just needed to find the right cock.”
“What do I do now that I have?”
The arms banded around me tightened and Beck stilled for a second, pressing his teeth to my breast. He growled, saying, “Anything you want. Anything, Sunny. You could rip my heart out of my chest and make me stare at it while I die, and I wouldn’t fault you for it.”
I arched up, wanting to feel that fine nip of pressure from his teeth. “I won’t do that.”
“You might,” he said. “You might not even know when you do it.”
He surged into me, his teeth biting into my skin and his arms crushing me to his chest and a raw, primal noise rattling out of his throat. I wanted to say something, wanted to claw at his skin, squeeze my knees to his hips, taste that roar as it ripped through him. I wanted to grab these seconds out of the air and cling to them, gulp them down, carve them into my skin—anything at all to remember this as long as I lived.
But then everything went blank—in the best way.
It was like a small coma, one with white fireworks behind my eyelids and waves rippling through my body, contracting until all my muscles quit the game and collapsed. There were sounds, but only the ones inside me—blood pounding, lungs filling and emptying. Everything else was static. I wasn’t sure but it seemed like I might’ve dipped out for a minute or an entire day, but when I forced my lids open, Beck was staring down at me with wide, troubled eyes like something was Very Wrong.
