Page 56 of The Allure of Ruins

He knew. Even now, having never been in bed with me before, he knew I craved more than the physical joining; that I craved the connection to my lover. Even better, he wanted the exact same thing.

His kisses were ravenous, claiming, and I sank into the heat of his mouth, my body going boneless, wanting only to be closer. His hand on my length, dragging through precum, was both firm and gentle, and I began to rock, forward into his grip and back onto his cock, taking more and more of him inside me.

I bit his lip when he tried to break the kiss, and he put his thumb in my mouth so I would suck on that a moment while he gulped air.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, and your muscles are squeezing around me like—Pax, honey, I’m not gonna make it all the way in,” he rasped, panting now. “I—fuck!”

I dropped down over him, fully seated, loving him buried to his balls, and even more, savoring the feeling of fullness.

Lifting, bracing my hands on his chest, I tucked my head against my shoulder, hiding, not ready for him to see me so vulnerable.

“No,” he ordered, both hands reaching for my face and gently, tenderly, turning my head until my gaze met his. “Come on. This is us. Have faith that I’m in the same exact place.”

I noted the blown pupils and the deep honey gold, and how red his lips were from my voracious kisses. He was just as naked, body and soul, as I was.

“Is this too much? Am I hurting you?”

“No,” I said, lifting up only to slide back down, the loosening of my muscles allowing me to move as I wanted, as I needed, to find my rhythm. As I rode him, I suddenly saw the taped gauze and remembered he was hurt. “I need to get off of—Colton!”

He was so much stronger than me and showed off his power as he grabbed my hip, holding me to him, and rolled over.

Colton coming down on top of me, buried deep, took my breath away. He was so hard and thick and long, and it felt amazing and right and I crooned his name.

“Focus on this, us, joined,” he instructed, curling forward, lifting my legs over those gorgeous broad shoulders of his. “I’m not hurt enough to stop doing what I’ve dreamed of for years.”

“Years?”

“Yes,” he rasped, staring down into my eyes. “You, all the time, every day, the man I wanted more than anyone. It’s been you from the start.”

His words rolled through me.

“Gimme the pillow,” he directed.

Reaching to the side, I grabbed his and passed it to him. He wedged it under me and then eased from my hole a bit before shoving back inside as deep as he could. He felt incredible.

“I wanna fuckin’ have you, but⁠—”

“Yes,” I said, slipping my hands under the headboard and gripping tight. “Have me.”

Even though I gave permission, he started out careful. I didn’t allow that. When I arched up to meet him, his moan of yearning made me smile.

It was seamless, us, together, and somehow, I knew it would be. This was how things went when you were in bed with the person who knew you, inside and out, good days and bad, in darkness and light. It had taken me a long time to get here, and I had to be whole before I reached for him, but now I could claim what had always been mine.

When he demanded I take hold of my cock, I knew he was close. His breath was coming in stops and starts, his thrusts wild, pounding, and he used me hard, which I loved. The surprise was the orgasm that roared up my spine, splintering me into a million pieces as my muscles clenched around him.

Head back, eyes closed, there was a final powerful stroke before he froze over me, releasing deep inside my body. My name had never sounded as good as it did right then, tumbling from his throat.

It took long moments for him to open his eyes and look at me.

“You’re loud in bed,” he informed me.

I laughed softly.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he said hoarsely. “Because I’m really not.”

Slowly, gently, he slipped my legs down his arms and then stretched over me, still inside, more than content, it seemed, to lie between my thighs, head on my shoulder, mouth open on the side of my neck. I turned and kissed his hair, loving how I was being held.

“I’ll move in a second,” he promised. “Your ass, though, doesn’t want to let me go quite yet.”