Page 192 of The Storm

“Fuck,” he breathes.

“Good?”

His Adam’s apple rolls as he swallows and nods, and I feel more on top of the too-much I’m already feeling. It’s an intoxicating rush that I can make him feel this way.

He rolls his hips against mine, shoving his cock into my hand more forcefully.

I smirk at him.

“Someone’s impatient,” I murmur before I press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He huffs out a laugh and starts to grind against me more insistently. “Do something about it, then, would you?”

He squeezes my shaft, and I let out a moan, and then he’s kissing me again. It’s barely been twelve hours since I slipped out of his bed, but kissing him like this, it might as well have been centuries between then and now. The need for him is stronger than ever.

And he tastes so good. So fucking good. He tastes like Nick. He’s always been my favorite taste.

His hands roam over my body like he’s trying to commit every part of me to memory, and maybe he is. Maybe last night wasn’t the last time, but tonight might very well be. I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m not very good at resisting him. Never have been. Even if I know somewhere in the back of my mind that it’ll hurt worse in the end.

The kiss turns even more urgent. We push and pull and fight each other, even though we have the same goal in the end.

I shove him, and we stumble across the floor, mouths still fused together, two hungry, needy entities.

“Want you, Blue. I can’t—” Whatever he says next doesn’t make sense. It’s made up of half-syllables, most of which get lost in our kisses.

We’re clumsy and uncoordinated as we rip each other’s clothes off. Shirts, pants, underwear, and socks hit the floor, flung into the corners of the room like we’re both trying to get them as far away as possible until I can slide my fingers up his hips to his chest with no distractions on the way. He takes my face in his hands and deepens the kiss into a desperate, dirty clash of teeth and tongues.

We drop onto the bed, kissing the whole time. I roll us over and sit up, fingers splayed on his chest, thighs straddling his hips, his cock pushing against my crack.

“Blue,” he moans when I lower my head and start to kiss a trail down the side of his neck, going lower with each openmouthed kiss, tweaking his nipples into stiff pebbles, raking over them with my teeth until he’s writhing beneath me. I slap his hand away when he tries to take my cock into his hand and move lower, covering his torso with kisses, licking his belly button until I make it to my grand prize, jutting up stiff and proud from a neatly trimmed thatch of pubic hair.

I shove his legs farther apart and hold his gaze as I lick a hot, wet path from his balls to the tip of his cock. He throws his headback and a groan rumbles from deep within his chest. I lick him again, and his back arches up off the bed.

I keep licking him, and he keeps writhing beneath me, hands fisting the sheets, body slick with sweat. I inhale deeply, breathing in the smell of sex and Nick, committing it to memory.

I suck my fingers into my mouth and make them wet. He spreads his legs wider, digging his heels into the mattress. I suck him into my mouth and press the pad of my finger against his opening, and he pushes back until I’m knuckle deep inside him. We both exhale, and he lets out a strained laugh.

“Gonna fuck me?” he asks.

I push my finger deeper before I meet his gaze and shake my head.

“I need you inside me.”

His eyes burn with lust. “Then stop teasing me.”

I straddle him and grab the lube from where I stuffed it underneath the side of the mattress a while back. I take his hand and pour some onto his fingers before I lean forward and capture his mouth again. I kiss him while he stretches me open.

“Fuck,” I groan when he holds his dick by the root and rubs the blunt head against my opening. We both gasp when he breaches me. We spent the previous night fucking each other senseless, so everything is sensitive to the point of too much, and it fits because everything about him has always been too goddamn much.

“Shit,” I rasp when he wraps his fingers around my cock and rubs his thumb over the slit, smearing precum all over the head. My body clenches around him, and he gasps loudly. “Jesus, you’re fucking tight.”

I spread my thighs wider, balance on my arms, and kiss him as he starts to thrust.

I kiss his lips and his neck and his forehead and temples. Everywhere my mouth can reach. He grips my hips, his breathing getting faster and harder as he fucks me.

“Fuck, I missed this, Blue. Missed you.” His words come in breathless grunts, matching the rhythm of his relentless thrusts.

It starts to build inside me, the fire in my core. It zaps up my spine and leaves a trail of goosebumps on my skin. I straighten my back and meet his thrusts, rolling my hips, balancing with my hands on his chest.