Secret Things
Page 18
He keens my name and I smile. Push him back until he rolls off me with a huff.
“Stay,” I murmur and his eyes narrow at me, irritation warring with amusement, and then it goes away, his eyes flying wide and squeezing shut, a shuddered fuck slipping free as I lick over him.
I hold his leg up, hook the other over my shoulder, and spread him with my fingers, and I give him everything. Every terror and touch and pain that’s been chasing me, every second of fear that made me run. Each heartbeat of longing when all I wanted was him and his arms, I take it all and press it into him, worship his body, licking light and quick over his rim, pressing against him until he’s whimpering and thrusting against me, these tiny, half aborted movements that match the choked off noises he’s making and it’s not enough.
He’s wet and loose and it’s not enough. I slide a finger into him, and suck hard on his hole and he screams, this noise that he swallows before it fully forms and I almost come from that.
“Cam, please,” he gasps, and I smile, let him feel it, reveling in the fucking, intoxicating curses he spills out as I fuck him with fingers and tongue, tortuously slow. Until he’s sobbing, this fucking incoherent mess of want, and I shift, sliding up and into him.
He’s loose from my fingers and my tongue and lube but it’s still tight, and I groan at it, at the tight squeeze and his legs around my waist, his breath against my neck as I shift him up. I lean back until he’s riding me and I slap his ass lightly.
For a second, as he sways on my cock, his knees braced on either side of my hips, I think he’s too fucked out to know what the hell I want. But when I thrust up, he gets with it pretty damn quick. The smile he gives me is predatory and hot and sweet and adoring, every fucking thing I love about him.
He rides me slow, these deep rocking movements that takes me deeper than I thought possible, and every fucking thrust makes him shudder as I hit that spot inside him.
I squeeze his cock when his breathing goes choppy and he makes this outraged noise, his eyes flying open to glare at me as he fucks me. His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust and love and he snarls at me, his thrusts going erratic as I squeeze his cock hard and then stroke him, fast and rough and just the way he likes.
He screams, then as I thrust up and fuck him in my fist, and I fucking lose it.
I come, so hard I think I see stars, and he follows me, with this noise that makes my orgasm kick harder, pressing his forehead into my neck as he comes hot and messy between us.
It’s filthy and perfect, and I fight the absolutely fucking absurd urge to cry as he lays there, covered in come and sweat, and smiling into my throat.
“I love you, Dee,” I murmur, and he makes this pleased noise, humming soft against my skin.
It’s not sunshine and roses. It’s not going to be easy. The world will try to pick us to pieces. But here, wrapped around each other, and edging toward sleep, the mess be damned, I think it doesn’t matter.
I love him. He loves me.
Everything else will sort itself out.
About the Author:
Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories.
When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binge watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids.
N is a self-professed geek and enjoys spending her spare time lost in her favorite fandoms and can often be found babbling about them on social media.
She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
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