Page 64 of Fuse

Yes, stillness. Not a single bleep, tick, ring, or ding…

“What the he— Oh!”

And suddenly, I’m swept off my feet with a rush of invisible but instantly recognizable energy.

“Oh, my… Reece?”

He knocks me back, lifts me up, and then brings me down right on top of him—where he digs a ferocious grip into my thighs and spreads me to straddle him. At once, he rocks my shocked core up and down his surging crotch as he raises up to claim my gasping mouth, stabbing his tongue up and then in, focusing on dominating me with fierce, almost violent, desperation.

His charge is invasive and startling but passionate and hot, inciting a war between my mind and my libido. What’s going on? On the other hand, do I want to know? He’s back. He’s awake. Oh dear God, is he awake. But how? And why? And most importantly, as who? On the outside, every inch of him is still my muscled superhero warrior, but there’s something different about how he’s maneuvering that form. His actions are so furious and fevered, I’m at once hesitant and urgent to return his passion.

As soon as I hold back, he stalls too. I take it as a good sign, though he adds a growl that’s different than any sound he’s ever given me before. He seems like a beast that’s been deeply wounded but is fighting to keep the whining evidence away from the air. Battling to hide his pain…

From me?

“Baby.” I press the word against his lips while he gets back to working my other set of lips. His cock, freed from its shroud, swells and jerks against my center, which is only covered by the flimsy cotton sleep shorts I hastily threw on hours ago. “Reece. It’s all right. It’s all right now, my love. I’m here. I’m here.”

He snarls again but finishes with a wolfish whimper this time. “Need…more. Need you, Velvet. Need you.”

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He growls again. Thrusts his hips harder. “Mmmph. Not enough.”

“Reece…” Again, I’m not sure whether to protest or encourage him. I’m so damn wet. The tang of my arousal mingles with the metallic scent of his. Both our essences thicken as he keeps sliding me up and down his erection, slickening his flesh with the soaked crotch of my shorts. But what would giving in to this animal attraction really be? Our sexual chemistry is directly tied into the force of our spiritual and mental connection. With a good chunk of those cylinders not firing for him, would this be just a bestial fuck and nothing more?

The question alone is an open invitation for a dervish of dread into my gut…followed by a slam of confusion through my brain. Why my stress? The two of us aren’t strangers to wild monkey sex. We like wild monkey sex. Less than twenty-four hours ago, we were going at each other in the mud in the canyon, resulting in some of the most amazing orgasms of my life and the light show every canyon critter is likely still chittering about today.

But what the hell is wrong now?

The answer hits too easily. And too painfully.

Spiritually, there’s nothing there. No answer from his heart when mine calls out to it. No charge of love beneath his touch. And as I meet his gaze directly, the experience is like looking at lightning—in black and white photo form.

“More.” If Reece notices the same thing, he sure as hell isn’t getting deterred about it. “These. Off. Now.” He dips a hand to shove aside the thin cotton that separates his hard flesh from my soaked tissues. “No,” he murmurs swiftly. “Fuck it. Just need to be—yessss. Oh, Christ. Oh, yes!”

I layer my high gasp atop his lusty grate as he surges up to breach me. At once, he’s filling my sex and conquering my body. And though I’m physically ready, the incursion is abrupt and fierce, his cock stretching my walls, his savagery stealing my breath. My astonishment makes me clench for a few seconds, squeezing his length until he rocks his head back and hisses through his teeth. “Goddamn.”

“Unnnnhhh.” My moan is as dark and just as conflicted as his. This is so right but so wrong. Something’s missing. What the hell is missing?

“Emma.” He focuses on the glistening juncture of our bodies. Where he’s pushing up as I’m slamming down, seeking more friction. Needing him…

To do what?

“Reece!” I gaze down, marveling at the beauty of his locked teeth against his burnished skin. He’s concentrating so hard.

Trying to do what?

“Reece…please!”

And that’s when the answer hits.

It’s not what he’s trying to do.

It’s what he’s trying not to do.

What I usually start to feel by now, pinging against the walls of my womb with transformative energy. The electrons of his essence. The lightning of his life force.

But right now, the come he’s deliberately holding back. By every excruciating drop.