We are the spark that lit up this night. We are the crack of lightning, the boom of thunder.
Growling, he bends at the knees, letting go of my hair long enough to slide those big arms down my back. He squeezes my ass and then scoops low. I gasp and shriek when he picks me up again, my legs going instinctively around his waist. He looks over my shoulder, moves a few steps and presses me against a tree.
“I want to fuckingeatyou,” he says before diving in to devour my mouth. He’s snarling and groaning, biting and licking and consuming like if he could, he’d do it.
But I don’t want that. And maybe that’s what’s so good about us together. I won’t go down without a fight.
“I want toownyou, you little brat.”
“Yeah?” I reach up to pull his wet hair, lose my grip and twist in order to shift his head to where I want it, then bite his lip so hard it draws blood and a long, deliciousooooohfrom his lungs. “Not if I own you first, you big jerk.”
His delighted laugh’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.
The pungent scents of blood and rain and rich dirt forever entwine in my body as his.Ours.
He opens his mouth and, for a split second, the world goes quiet, as if even the storm’s leaning in to hear his next words. And they break me wide open.
33
Zion
“I love you, Twyla.” I tap my breastbone, working to catch my breath. “I fucking love you.”
There. It’s out. As soon as I’ve said it, I’m lighter, my chest isn’t quite so tight, the ball in my gut’s unwinding. The tree we’re leaning against shakes, the woods around us strobing bright and fast, but nowhere near as frantic as the beating of my goddamn heart.
“I’ve loved you forever. Before camp, even. Before everything.”
All I can do is kiss her hard, the taste of rain and copper pure poetry in my mouth. The snap of ozone in the air proof of the alchemy happening here—the two of us coming together the way nature intended. The way we were meant to, from the very start. From before we ever met. Sanctified by blood and Mother Nature.
“Fuck. You mean so much to me, Twyla,” I say, each word punctuating a kiss, digging all this emotion out of me, like pulling splinters from my skin, shards of glass from my soul. The streaming water washing me clean. “You’re everything. You’re beautiful.” A kiss, another. It fucking hurts, but in the best possible way. Like the sting of my palm to her ass, like the pain of rope burn or the dull ache of a good bruise. It’s a hurt I’ll seek over and over. I’ll never let it go.
It’s mine now.Ours.
“You’re my wife,” I tell her, as if she doesn’t know that. As if that piece of paper we signed bestows anything more than this night’s blessed us with. “Will you stay my wife? Give me a chance to show you who I am and how much you matter to me?”
I’m blathering at this point, but who can blame my brain for not functioning with all these endorphins flowing through it? I laugh at how high I feel and push my denim-clad erection into the snug cradle of her crotch, which is bare under the soaking wet T-shirt, now molded to her tits. She’s a wet dream, literally.
I kiss her again, deep and tender and real, then pull slowly away. For a split second, I worry that if we stop, we’ll come to our senses—or at least she will—and this’ll be over. Just a dream. A fantasy, here and gone before we know it.
“Put it in me,” she says, an out of breath siren. A succubus, sucking all the bad from me and leaving nothing but good. “Come on.”
We reach for my button together, work the zipper down, and I rub my crown through her slippery heat before pressing in.
“God, yes.” She tilts her hips and I push deeper and the warmth of her, the pure, painful bliss, envelopes me.
I shift her weight, shove her thighs up and back as far as they’ll go and sink deep with a groan. Then, fuck, then she grabs my face and puts that mouth on mine and turns this into something I’ve never had in my life.
That sets me off, raging like something primitive and bestial. All I can do is take her. Hard, rough, but uncomplicated. Pure. She tilts her head against the tree, claws my back, clenches tight around me as I pulse hard inside her, coming before I’ve given my body permission.
“Oh, fuck.”
She leans in and takes my mouth, pulls my hair, clasps my cock with her cunt, moans and takes me.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck, you feel good.”
“Zion,” she cries. Just my name. My real name, on her mouth, as she kisses mine, and that’s it. We’re done. Gone.
Eyes screwed shut, I tighten my ass and plunge deep, emptying my aching balls inside her, picturing a future with babies and kisses and love, so much love. A home full of it. It hurts to imagine it, see it, feel it in my bones and balls, but I let it come. I couldn’t stop if I tried.
