Your Fallen Star: Under the Stars Book 1

by Raleigh Ruebins

  I realized with a joyous satisfaction that in my sleep I’d turned to face away from Leo—and in his sleep, he’d wrapped an arm around me, and was pulling me close, holding me against his chest.

  And oh my God, I didn’t want it to end, it couldn’t end, I couldn’t let him wake up and discover us like this. He’d probably break away from me and leave me cold. So I tried to move as quietly as I could, to press up against him just the slightest amount with the back of my body. My back met his chest. I felt his breathing slow and even on the back of my neck.

  I realized as I moved that I was hard—of course I was—and when I pressed my ass against Leo slowly I realized that he was too. It was to be expected, in the morning, but it still shot a thrill straight through me. I was only wearing my boxer briefs and I could feel him, feel the hard length pressing up against the cleft of my ass, and it took everything in me not to moan. He was big. I’d thought he might be. Fuck, what would it feel like inside me? Or even just in my hand?

  I thought I was getting away with it—rutting slowly against him, only a little bit guilty, but as I moved up against him again I felt his hand tighten against my arm where it had been lying lazily until that moment.

  I froze. Swallowed. Readied myself for him to throw me out of bed.

  But instead his grip lessened, and then his warm hand released my arm and traveled upward, stroking against my chest, softly moving up and up until it rested squarely on my neck. His touch was so light, and he put no pressure at all against my throat, but I could feel my pulse quicken against his hand. After keeping it there a moment he moved upward to my jaw, grasping gently and turning my head upward, to face him.

  “What are you doing, Jamie?” His voice was a low rumble, only audible because his mouth was so close to my ear.

  I slowly turned over so that I could meet his eyes. They were half-lidded, but he was staring right at me. He’d taken off his shirt sometime in the night, and the planes of his muscles were beyond gorgeous in the morning light. It was almost too much.

  His hand was still against my jaw, light but unrelenting, and I stared at him, drawing my lip into my mouth to bite it. Time stretched out and I felt my heart slamming in my chest.

  He pushed his thumb to my bottom lip and released it from my teeth, tracing my mouth then with its tip. My eyes fluttered shut involuntarily. Just that touch—that simple, delicate touch of his thumb moving along my bottom lip shot straight through me, and I think I sort of lost it. I stopped thinking rationally, and could only think of him, what I wanted from him. I touched the tip of his thumb with my tongue, gentle and slow at first. He didn’t pull away.

  So I took his thumb into my mouth and pulled, moaning low and quiet.

  The rest of his hand gripped against my jaw and my cock strained with the knowledge that not only was I doing this, but Leo was letting me. He gently pressed his thumb against my tongue and I opened my eyes again to see him watching me, his gaze burning into mine.

  And then he brought his face in closer, came toward me until his mouth was less than an inch away from mine, and hovered just near my lips. He slowly pulled away his thumb, and it came out wet and slick, the only thing separating my lips from his. When he’d finally drawn out the fingertip he pressed his lips down onto mine, and let out a half-groan half-growl. He’d been holding back, and now finally had let himself go, grasping at my back, pulling me closer and kissing me.

  A warm rush flooded my body and I pressed in close to him, facing him then, the length of my body against his and his cock pressed against mine. He kissed me deeper, more urgently. His hands were possessive against my arms, my back, my hips, gripping and kneading my skin.

  A low moan escaped him again, and his lips broke away from my mouth and down to my neck. He kissed me there, sucking slow against the delicate skin, undoubtedly leaving marks. I moved my hand to the back of his head and gripped a fistful of his hair as I arched back, offering myself to him.

  “Oh my God.” I was barely aware that the words were coming out of my mouth. And as I spoke, Leo moved upward again and lifted a leg across my body, until I was pinned under him and he straddled me, our cocks against each other and his face hovering above mine.

  “Jamie.” He surrounded me, his voice almost possessed. He moved to my ear and gently took my earlobe between his teeth.

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  He sucked gently at the bottom of my ear. “You’re bad.”

  I whined as I involuntarily bucked my hips upward, into him, feeling the length of his cock pressed against me. It was wet and slick at the tip.

  I swallowed roughly. “Am I?” I dragged my hands against the sides of his body, and after a sharp intake of breath, he leaned back, caught my wrists in his hands, and lifted my arms above my head, pinning them onto the bed above me.

  “You said you wouldn’t—” he met my eyes, “—try anything, if I let you sleep with me.”

  “Guess I lied,” I said, my voice steady as I met his gaze.

  The sound he made then was utterly possessive, and his fingers tightened against my wrists. His face was just inches above mine again, and then my bottom lip in his mouth, between his teeth, as he pulled and bit. It was just on the edge of pleasure and pain, a sweet sharp feeling that I never wanted to end. He finally let go.

  A deep moan tumbled out of me and I strained upward, my hands immobilized under his wrists.

  “I don’t like it when you lie,” he said, kissing me sweetly where he’d just bitten, licking where his teeth had been.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not apologetic at all. I lifted my legs and squeezed them around his hips.

  His mouth was at my throat again. “Promise me you won’t.” A little nip against my neck.

  “I promise.” I was grinding upward against him now, rutting over and over in a slow pattern, needing to feel him on my cock.

  “You promise what?” He released one of my wrists, and brought his hand down to the bottom hemline of my shirt, roughly dragging my shirt upward to expose my chest. His finger located my nipple, teasing the faintest circle around it with his finger.

  “I promise I won’t lie,” I said, my voice raw, “I promise I won’t lie to you.” I took my free hand and dragged my nails down his back. It made his breath catch, and my cock throbbed in response. I hoped he could feel me against him, hot and hard, and I hoped it made him crazy.

  “Good,” he said, lifting my other hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing down the back of it all the way to the wrist, still red from his grip. “Now tell me what you want,” he trailed his tongue up the palm of my hand, “and don’t lie to me.”

  I pressed my hips upward into his. “You know what I fucking want.”

  “Tell me.” He lifted his hips upward and off me, denying me the contact. Even if I bucked upward, he was too far above me to allow our hips to meet.

  “I want you.”

  “You have me. Be more specific.”

  His eyes burned into mine. I hesitated for a moment, breathing, as he leaned against me, his hand still against my nipple, teasing. Fuck it.

  “I want you. Inside me. I want you to fuck me, just like this, until I come and I can’t move, and then I want you to do it again, whenever you want it, however you want me.”

  For a second I thought he might pass out. His eyes searched mine, and I looked back at him, dead serious. Finally he settled, his hips coming down against mine.

  “Make me come,” I said, demanding now, because fuck holding back.

  He dragged his hand down until it rested on my cock, straining through the cloth. I made a desperate sound and throbbed against his hand. He squeezed, then released.

  “Take off your clothes,” he told me, his voice resolute.

  And then he was off me, leaning over the side of the bed, opening the drawer of the nightstand and retrieving a condom and a bottle of lube. He gracelessly took off the sweatpants he was wearing as I took off my shirt and boxer briefs. I tossed my clothes to the side, and as
they came down, they caught on a half-full glass of water on his nightstand. It fell to the floor with a crack, spilling water across his rug.

  “Shit,” I said.

  “Fuck it,” came his reply, “Don’t care.”

  And then he was on top of me again, pulling be back under him. It was all skin on skin this time, and the radiant heat of him surrounding me.

  His body was so firm but still yielding, and his cock, Jesus Christ, it was so much better than I could have imagined. He was hard and dripping like me, and when he pressed our cocks together again I worried for a moment that I might come then and there, ruining everything and letting go.

  But I held on.

  “Kiss me,” I said, a command and a plea.

  He dipped to my face again and gave me what I wanted, kissing deep into me. His hands tightened around my stomach, trailing lower, moving between us. He broke the kiss only to move lower again, nipping against my skin and then pulling a nipple into his mouth. I arched into him, his every touch threatening undo me. His tongue trailed lower until he was between my legs, kissing the soft skin of my inner thighs. I looked down and saw him there, near my dripping cock, as he kissed sweet and wet into me.

  He reached over and slicked his fingers with lube, and then his hand was at my ass, pushing slowly at my cheeks until he found my hole. I opened for him, relaxing as much as I could, and he pressed in slowly. My cock jumped as he entered me, his lips still pressed tight against the inside of my thigh. He worked in slowly, methodically, almost too slow.

  “Fuck,” I said, “More.”

  “Impatient,” he said, his lips moving against my leg, and I felt him give me a little bite right as he pushed another finger inside.

  “Oh my God,” I said, and my cock dripped. I squeezed around his fingers as I waited for more, wanting everything so much quicker, but knowing I couldn’t rush.

  “Jamie,” he said, looking up at me from under his dark eyelashes, and I met his eyes. “Tell me if you can take another finger.”

  I nodded immediately. “I can. Give it to me.”

  He gave me a look as if to say, are you sure?

  “God, please, Leo, I need it, just fucking give it to me—”

  All at once he added one more, and the pleasure and shock and pain all combined to make me moan loudly, throwing my head back against the pillow, both of my hands gripped tight against his shoulders. My nails dug into his skin, and he worked his three fingers inside of me. Pain gave way until I was moving hard against him, wanting and needing more.

  God. “I can’t—Leo—Jesus, Leo—”

  “Tell me, Jamie.”

  “Fuck me,” I said, my voice broken, “I need you to fuck me, now.” I gripped the back of his neck hard with my hand, and stared down at him.

  He slipped his hand out of me, and then reached over to put on the condom and slick himself with lube.

  I waited what felt like forever and then the tip of his cock was at my entrance, right there. He pushed inside of me, and it was so much more than his fingers had been. Pain—a welcomed, necessary sting and stretch. He sank inside and kept his eyes on mine, gauging my reaction.

  “Fuck me.” It was barely a whisper. He pushed into me more forcefully and I called out, needing it badly and yet just on the brink being in too much pain. My fingers had pressed red marks and scratches into his hips, his arms, his shoulders. And then he was in, totally, fully, filling me to the base. He dropped down on top of me again, his face close to mine, breath heavy against my cheek. I grasped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

  He moved slow as I loosened. I felt helplessly needy. I had gotten something I had wanted forever, and now that I had it, I needed more than that. He began to move in a steady rhythm, his heavy bulk above me, pinning me.

  “Oh, God, Jamie,” he said, breathless, as he trailed a hand down my chest and to my aching cock. He gripped it in his fist, between us, as he fucked into me.

  “Fuck,” I blurted out, barely in control. “I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you—”

  He started to stroke my cock in rhythm with his own inside me, and I was desperately close to losing it. After a while I was incoherent, barely able to keep my eyes open. But I wanted to see him, him, the person I had wanted in so many ways. He was a work of fucking art as he fucked me, body slicked in sweat, eyes watching me, hands clutching over my body.

  “I want you too, Jamie,” he said, low and hoarse. “When you’re near me I can’t even—” I squeezed around him and his voice broke as he groaned loudly, eyes squeezing shut. His fist tightened around my cock.

  “Touch me like that and I’m gonna come,” I said quickly.

  He groaned a little again. “Oh God,” he said, his eyes meeting mine again as he pressed into me harder, quickening his pace. “I’m right there.”

  I slowly brought my hand up to his face, putting my fingers against his mouth. His eyes widened as he felt my fingertips there, but then he took them into his mouth, two fingers, and moaned uncontrolled as he kept working inside me.

  And I lost it. His tight grip on my cock, him filling me, and the wetness of his mouth sucking on my fingers short circuited my brain and I cried out, coming hard all of the sudden, letting go onto my stomach, my chest, his hand. It was so much, too much, and I dropped my hand back down onto the bed as it rolled through me in waves, again and again. His grip around me tightened and then fell away, as he kept fucking deep into me.

  I opened my eyes and saw him bring his hand up to his mouth, still painted in white, and put a finger into his mouth.

  “Oh my God,” I uttered, fucked into a hypnotic state, watching him taste me.

  He moaned around his finger and then slipped it out, his face flushed and coming undone. I squeezed tight around his cock because I knew he was about to come, pushing hard into me, eyes shut as he shuddered and leaned over my body. I held one hand at his hip, and one raked into his hair, and was still other than my heavy breath as he rode through his orgasm.

  He stayed there for a minute or two, bent over me on the bed, still inside, as he slowly came back to reality. After slipping out he neatly rolled the condom off and into a tissue beside the bed, then lay back onto the bed beside me.

  We were wordless. I didn’t even look at him for a moment, just kept still as we both breathed, listening to the rain outside the window. I’d say it was perfect, but it was better than that; I don’t think I had been so utterly content before in my life.

  And then he rolled toward me and kissed me, slow and sweet, with none of the seizing urgency that he’d had before. He smoothed a hand soft against my shoulder as his lips brushed against mine.

  He pulled back just a little, looking down at me in the soft grey light.

  “Are you always like that?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you always so… God, so intense like that?”

  “Oh,” I said, taken by surprise. “Um, I don’t know, really. I’ve never thought about it.”

  He laid onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling. “Well, it’s fucking hot. So… now you know.”

  “I’ve never been fucked like that before, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  We were silent for a few moments.

  “Can I stay here today?” I said, knowing that I was probably pushing my luck. “Unless you have other plans….”

  He thought for a moment. “Well… I do have a lot of free time, seeing as how the rain will take care of watering my plants. I think I could pencil you in. One condition, though.”

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  “You’ve gotta stay all day. Like, we’re not leaving the house. We’ll order in. We can work if you want to, except for the hour of 11 o’clock to 12 o’clock, during which time I have a very special standing appointment that you’ll be invited to.”

  I smiled. “Hell yes, Leo.”

  He looked down at the bed. “Oh, and I want to make you come again. Later. Preferably with my mouth.”

  A
surge rolled through me—not sexual, really, since I was spent, but definitely deep satisfaction. I didn’t know why he was suddenly ignoring all the rules and boundaries he had previously set between us, but I wasn’t going to question it. I felt like the day was a fever dream; the rain cast a different light on everything, and in here it was just me and Leo, without any consideration of consequences or what we should or shouldn’t do.

  I’d manage the fallout later, if it came.

  “Deal,” I said to him, smiling as I ran my hand down his chest.

  Thirteen

  Leo

  Jamie terrified me.

  He couldn’t possibly know how I felt. He couldn’t know what my life had been like before he’d been dropped right into it; into my house, into my career, into my bed like he’d belonged there. And now he was here next to me, naked and so thoroughly fucked because I hadn’t come close to being able to turn down any of his demands. I wanted to give him everything, even though I knew he wasn’t really mine.

  So that’s how I decided to let him stay for the day, which I’d already wanted so badly but would never have dared to ask for. What could I have even said? “Hey, Jamie, want to hang out with a lonely, essentially unemployed, aging man all day instead of doing anything of substance?” So it was good that he’d asked first.

  The main thing that terrified me about Jamie was how everything was going to feel when he inevitably left. When the book was done, when he moved on, when he found someone his own age who had promise and ambition. Someone who was everything I wasn’t.

  And that’s why in the moment my resolve and my reluctance had burned to the ground—because I knew that at least for this one gray day, I wanted to forget all that shit, and just keep him near me.