But when we’re both where we want to be, I sink myself inside him, inch by inch.
And then I’m not so clumsy or clueless anymore.
I’m in love.
I’m consumed.
I’m consumed with so many emotions and sensations that once I’m all the way inside him, I can’t move or even breathe.
Freshman year of college, I'd dived right into all the sex I’d missed in tiny, backward Port Leyden. The sex I could’ve been having with Shane but didn’t get to because he'd peaced out without a word. I remember thinking it wasn’t such a big deal. Maybe I hadn’t missed out on that much after all.
But none of those guys had been Shane Carraway.
None of them felt this good and none of them held me this tight when I was inside them. It’s almost excruciating, rocking my hips against him, chasing after a feeling that was always just out of reach when I was with him. Moving toward it faster and faster, but not too fast, because…what happens when I catch it?
“Oh, God,” Shane gasps. “Ethan…”
I slow my pace. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.” His arm comes up around my neck. “I want you, please. Don’t stop.”
Curses spill out of my mouth as I start thrusting into him faster this time.
Will I ever get to hold Shane like this again? Will I ever get to kiss him like this and tell him how good he feels?
And it’s in this moment, when my lips brush over his chin and neck, that I want to start saying things. Filthy things. Poetic things.
Truthful things.
But all I can manage is a strained whisper against his skin, “You feel so good. Oh, God, Shane.”
“I missed you,” he moans. He repeats it and his words get lost in my mouth as I kiss him and pound into him, harder and harder, giving him everything I’ve got.
I don’t think it was ever possible for me to love anyone else but him.
One of my hands fumbles with one of Shane’s hands as we both try to grab his dick at the same time to get him off.
But I brush his hand away. “Let me take care of you.”
It really doesn’t take much and his cum is spilling all over my chest. I thrust into him as deep as I can and come so hard I think I see the edge of the universe.
His arms are around me, hugging me tight, hugging me close to him. I can feel his heart pounding, his breath in my hair, and I want to be mad about it. I want to be mad at him for making me wait this long to be with him this way, to show him how much I loved him, and love him even now. I want to be fucking livid. I attempt to conjure up some rage toward him for making me feel this way. For making us waitthislong to be together.
But I can’t.
There’s not a single piece of anger left in me now.
And I want to be mad at him over that.
Shane moves underneath me, sliding away and off the bed. He returns with a towel to clean us up. I remove the condom and throw it away.
When I get back in bed with him, under the covers he holds open for me, it’s like it was always supposed to be this way.
As if those five years never happened at all.
It’s late morning when we drive up to the gravel road that I remember.
I expected the locked metal gate, since it’s off season, but we’re not going to let that stop us. I get out the backpack I’d brought and start cramming as much stuff as I can into it; food, water, extra gloves and then I finally, gently, take the urn from the backseat.
