Page 162 of The Storm

“You’re mine, Blue. You’ve always been mine.”

I shake my head, unable to speak when every painful emotion from the last six years crashes over me. The hurt. The intense loneliness. The feeling of having a vital part of me ripped away from me so suddenly that I still struggle to live without it. The endless ache of missing him even when I hated him.

All those years of trying to rebuild myself around an absence.

Trying to convince myself I was fine.

Trying to turn into a person who doesn’t automatically look for Nick in crowded rooms or think of him whenever something good happens, reaching for my phone before remembering I can’t call him anymore.

“Don’t do this to me,” I grit out. Tears are flowing freely now. I can’t stop them.

“Blue,” he says again.

I cling to him, every breath heavy with loss and heartache and need.

He wraps himself around me, pulling me to him until we’re plastered together, chest to chest, breathing each other in.

His forehead rests against mine.

He’s so close. So, so close. Closer than he’s been in years. His mouth is inches from mine.

We watch each other, eyes roaming over eyes and lips, noses brushing.

He tilts his head the tiniest bit, and his upper lip brushes my bottom lip. It’s not a kiss.

Not yet.

His thumb sweeps over my clavicle and rests against the hollow of my throat. I let out a shaky breath.

His mouth comes down on mine.

His hand grips the side of my neck. His lips devour me. It’s desperate and needy and overwhelming. It’s pouring the last six years of craving and longing into one kiss.

My head is only full of him. Him, him,him.

His smell and his touch and his desire.

His tongue pushes past my lips, deepening the kiss, and the storm of desire it unleashes almost knocks me off my feet. I’m helpless in the face of it. I surrender without putting up a fight.

His hands grip my neck, and he presses me against the wall. His thigh slips between mine, pushing us even closer together.His tongue slides against mine, seductive and demanding in equal measure, and my hips start to rock against him.

He moans, and it vibrates through me.

It’s all so familiar, but also new. He tastes the same but different. His body feels like it used to, but at the same time, not at all.

My fingers clutch his waist, pulling him even closer, and then I let my hands roam, tracing every bit of skin I can reach, feeling the dips and lines of his body.

My cock jerks violently when he moans into my mouth. My head is woozy with desire as Nick’s hips thrust against mine. He tears his mouth away, but before I can protest he’s running his lips down the side of my neck.

He rests his forehead against the curve of my shoulder, eyes aimed lower. His hand covers my cock, gripping it through the soft material of the sweatpants. My head falls back against the wall with a loud thump.

Our panting breaths are all I can hear.

His fingers gripping my cock are all I can feel.

He strokes the thick, heavy length, and I slam my eyes shut at the rush of desire that rushes through me, erasing everything in its path.

“Mine, Blue,” he says hoarsely, voice all gravel.