Page 152 of Into the Dark
He sits up and settles himself between my trembling thighs. He doesn’t push inside me, though, just circles the head of his cock over the throbbing, needy point that feels raw from his mouth. “Is this what you need now, baby?” he asks in a sinfully rough voice.
I can barely breathe, barely think, so I’m not sure I can even manage the words.
“Tell me you need it, Alex.”
“I need it,” I manage. “Fuck me—now.”
With a devilish look in his eye, he slides into me in one long, slow thrust. “Fuck…” he groans as he pushes all the way in. “Look at you. You’re so fucking wet. You came so fucking hard for me, didn’t you?” he asks, eyes glittering with arousal. “You always come so fucking hard for me.” He bends his head and kisses me deeply, fucking his tongue into my mouth just like he did a moment ago between my legs. I can taste myself, sex and heat and need swirling between us as he pulls out and thrusts back in. I suck his lip into my mouth and bite as he begins to move—all I seem capable of right now as the orgasm has emptied me out. I feel wet and open and used, exquisitely so, and as he fucks me into the couch I close my eyes and focus on the place inside where his cock pushes against me on every thrust.
My head flops back down, too heavy, and he lowers his mouth to my throat, sucking and kissing down it toward my breasts.
“You always feel so good wrapped around my cock, Alex,” he says as he pulls my top down to expose my breast. He sucks a nipple into his beautiful mouth before scraping it gently with his teeth.
Flickers of sensitivity dance out from his mouth, but it’s lazy. His fingers slip between my legs again, and then he’s back to circling my clitoris as he fucks me. I’m a mass of sensation but lax and dazed from pleasure, so I can only lie there and take it. His mouth and cock and hands don’t ever slow, and I’m utterly shocked when I feel my body rise to a second orgasm. Jake senses it and lifts his head, eyes filled with something utterly primal.
“I love you so fucking much,” he tells me before kissing me hard.
I can’t respond because right then he grips my wrists and holds them above my head, beginning to pound harder. Harder than he ever has. Frenzied and raw and loud. Sweat-licked skin against sweat-licked skin. It’s as if I feel his cock grow inside me, and then it kicks and he curses, and I feel him spill warm and deep inside me. My own orgasm is quiet, a shudder deep inside. A gorgeous, soothing burst of pleasure against his own.
Jake releases my wrists and lowers his mouth to my chin, where he nibbles, growling in that soft puppy-like way he often does. Sated and soft, I scrape my nails lightly over his back, up his spine, across his shoulders, making him shiver. I inhale the skin of his neck deeply. He always smells so delicious here. Something to do with the cedarwood oil he massages into his facial hair every morning now, but also something to do with the natural scent of him.
We swap positions so he’s settled on his back and I’m tucked under his arm with my leg thrown over his thigh. Tracing my fingers over his chest, a little damp from exertion, I mark the outlines of his tattoos. I no longer need to look at them to trace them.
Above me, he releases a deep sigh of satisfaction and kisses the top of my head. “Was that too hard?” he asks. I hear the slight touch of concern in his voice.
“No. It was perfect.”
He kisses me again. “Mm-hmm, it was.” He grunts in agreement.
The silence settles around us, warm and comfortable, before he speaks again.
“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
Where did that come from? I lift my head from his chest to give him a perplexed look. “Because I let you fuck me hard?”
He smooths a hand over my cheekbone. “No. Because of everything else.”
I swallow. Oh, Jake, I’m not. I’m not brave. I’m a coward. I’ve always been a coward. That’s why I haven’t told you about your mother, about your brother. Because I’m afraid. I look away from his eyes. “I’m not brave, Jake.”
He’s the brave one. He’s the one navigating his way through this dangerous double life. He’s the one telling me everything I ask him to no matter the consequences. He’s the one risking everything for someone he loves. He’s the only thing that’s brave about me.
I’ve risked nothing. I’m selfish. And a coward. Do something about it then, why don’t you? Do something brave, why don’t you?
“I need to talk to you about something,” I hear myself whisper against his warm chest.
“Sounds serious,” he says with a half-groan. “I just came inside you—can you just let me enjoy the moment for a bit?”
I nestle my head deeper into the warmth of his body, wrapping my leg tighter around him to pull him closer. I can still feel the echo of him between my legs, the hot, sticky pleasure he spilled inside me coating the insides of my thighs. Be brave.
“No, I can’t. I need to say it now. I want you to listen to everything I have to say before you get angry.” I turn my head up to look up at him, the guilt and fear crippling me. I feel sick. “Can you promise me that?”
He sits up. “Baby, you’re freaking me out.”
I imagine all the things that must be flitting through his head right now and wonder how many of them I’d swap out for this.
“I know. And I’m sorry.” I nod.
“Alex, what the fuck?”