Page 76 of Stranger Danger

“Just—” I arch my back, pressing against his hands. “Just do it.”

He spits into his hand, and I listen to the wet sound of him working himself. Every nerve inside my body is thrumming, excited and terrified and finally feeling just a little like me again.

The first press of his cock feels fucking ridiculous—wet, insistent, too much and not enough. I push back into it, chasing the burn because it means he’s here, we’re here, we’re still alive to do dumbass things that I’m definitely going to regret later today.

“We need to go slow,” he groans, but I shake my head into the pillow.

“Fuck me.”

The stretch is so much worse than the first time, my body resisting even as I’m begging for it, and I shove my face harder into the motel pillow to muffle the sound that tears out of me. My vision sparks white at the edge. Some distant, crazy part of my brain starts wondering if dude-with-smiley-face-keychain is going to pound on our door again, until I remember where we are.

Beckett stills, his thighs trembling against mine. “Oh my God—”

“Move.” I reach back to grab his wrist on my hip. “Right now.”

He pushes into me with a single, sharp thrust that punches all the air out of my lungs and replaces it with a buzzing that ricochets from my stomach all the way to my head. I bite down on the pillow until my jaw aches, a soundless scream vibrating through my teeth.

“I—I needed this, Ira.”

His voice breaks on my name, and my heart swells in time with my dick. This is perfect—he is perfect. His hips stutter forward again, and the pain transforms into a warmth that makes my entire body throb.

“Your cock feels so good.” My voice comes out wrecked, barely human. “Keep doing that. Please, more, please—”

Every thrust pushes me closer to normal. To the me I left in Eunice. I stop trying to muffle my voice, stop reminding myself to care for just this one time. One of his hands leave my hip and slides up my spine, pressing between my shoulder blades, before I feel his palm settle against my throat. His fingers slowly wrap around my neck.

One squeeze.

Pressure builds at the base of my spine so quickly, I wrap my hand around myself so I don’t come at the worst time.

We just started.

Hell no.

“Yes.” I can’t nod fast enough. “Do it.”

His fingers tighten slowly, until the air cuts off just enough that the edges of the room start to go soft. My dick twitches in my own fist, and the whimpers coming out of me sound so damn embarrassing.

Beckett’s other hand slides from my hip to my stomach, and he pulls me back onto him at the same time he pushes forward. The angle shifts, and his cock hits that good spot inside me.

My whole body jerks, and my hand falls away from myself, fisting the sheets until the edges of my broken nails dig into my fist.

His breathing is ragged against the back of my neck, hot and uneven, and I can feel the moment he loses whatever last thread of control he was hanging onto. His hips snap forward harder, rougher, and the headboard knocks against the wall with a dull thud that I’m sure the entire floor hears.

The pressure around my throat tightens—intense. Too much. His thumb presses into my Adam’s apple until I can’t swallow, can’t even close my mouth without seeing spots.

It sends me spiraling so fast I can’t catch up.

I come so hard my vision whites out completely, my whole body seizing around him while I pulse into the sheets, hot and messy and so fucking good I can’t even make a sound. Beckett’s hand releases my throat all at once, and the first real breath of air makes me cough.

He follows me down, his chest pressing against my back, and I feel him shudder—one, two, three more thrusts before he buries himself as deep as he can and goes still. His forehead drops between my shoulder blades, and the sound he makes is something I’ve never heard from him before. Some broken, half-sob, like it’s being pulled out of him against his will.

“I’m so sorry,” he pants into my skin. “I—I’m so sorry.”

His voice cracks on the second sorry, and my chest splits open.

I try to turn over, but he’s still inside me, still pinning me to the mattress with the full weight of him, and my arms are too shaky to push up. So I just lie there, breathing through my nose, feeling his heartbeat slam against my back.

“Beckett.” I swallow, and it stings. “Hey. Beckett, look at me.”