Page 44 of Fuse

It’s all so incredible.

Because it’s all filled with him.

Every touch, every breath, every moment, every sense. Joined with him. Getting through this with him. Helping him through it too.

Surviving the storm. Facing the fallout. Healing the damage.

Together.

As it’s meant to be.

As it always will be.

“Yesssss.” I press the hiss up from the depths of my throat, which he’s started to attack with husky tugs of his teeth and savoring suckles of his lips. Between both, there’s the magic that has his bunny turning into a writhing, lusty snake. He intensifies my serpent side with the twirling, tantalizing treatment of his wicked tongue…and then the sublime command of his hands as he starts rocking my aching core up and down his hot, beautiful bulge…

“Oh, yes! Oh, Reece!”

He snarls as his erection pulses. As if his penis knows how desperately my pussy yearns for him too. As if he knows I may soon be well past the point of yearning, he hauls my legs around his waist, stands, and starts trudging through the mud.

“Shit!” It bursts out between my stunned gasps as soon as he slams me against the side of the cliff. At once, he braces his legs so I can descend completely over him.

Yearning is officially the old trend now.

New trend?

Desperate would be a damn good one. Critical, another good one. Or maybe more direct descriptors are a better fit here. Like soaked. Hot. Quivering. Aching. Burning.

“R-Reece!” And after all the mental prep, that’s all I can utter? But can I be held to more as he makes short work of my workout jacket’s zipper—thank God I changed into the gear as soon as he was choppered away this morning—and then shoves a hand inside, greedily making his way for the cups of my exercise bra? Nobody would blame me if they watched how he peels down the scoop neck so forcefully, he’s just turned my boring gym wear into an erotic push-up look.

“Damn,” he rumbles. My mind echoes with the same, though on the outside, all I manage are breaths the texture of static and sighs the strength of the thinning mud at our feet. The dirt he embeds with his deep boot prints while planting his feet wide, supporting my weight solely with his thighs, which frees up his other hand…

“Reece!”

To ensure he gives both my nipples those commanding pulls…

“Ahhhh!”

And then his consuming bites…

“Damn. Damn!”

But at once licking away the brief pain, transforming it into zinging pleasure. Liquid heat that swirls down into my most secret center…

“Ohhhh, shit!”

Before I’m wordless and breathless and at last able to drop my gaze—onto the iridescent blue X’s he’s licked into existence across my breasts.

“Oh, dear hell.”

At the center of the crosses, my nipples are buttons of aroused crimson, still pulsing with need for more of his amplified dominion. The marks aren’t like other scratches or abrasions he’s given me before. The X’s are deliberate sensual penmanship, a blatant claim.

I’m a little unnerved.

But a lot more aroused.

Though not nearly as much as he is.

I’m positive of it from the second he looks back up, raising his unblinking scrutiny from my breasts back to my face. And yes, there are still miles of dark mists in those intense gray depths, but for a second, I spot distinct flares of blue and silver too. Flashes that last long enough to reflect on the clouds of his soul…and slowly, steadily, start reminding him of himself. I watch, enraptured, as he visibly claims that knowledge. Who he really is. What he truly can be. Not just his darkness but so much of his spectacular light—the light he can only claim by embracing the fusion in his blood, powering every beat of his desire and throb of his need.