Page 87 of Before We Break

I take him as far back as I can, swirling my tongue around his length. What I lack in experience I more than make up for in effort. I look up through my lashes and marvel at the expression on his face: his eyes are pinched shut, and his lips are parted.

His knuckles brush the side of my cheek in an all-too-tender gesture before he grips my chin and halts my movements. I release him with a pop and smile up at him.

“You’re trying to kill me.” His lips descend on mine for a filthy kiss. When he pulls away, we’re both sweaty and breathless. He backs off the bed, standing there in all his naked glory. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch his perfect ass as he walks out of the room. I should feel self-conscious, but my body is already prepared for round two. What has he done to me, and how can I get him to keep doing it over and over again?

Noah returns with a warm, wet washcloth, running it over my belly before dipping between my legs. “Are you sore?”

“Only a little.”

Noah settles on my bed with his back against the headboard, holding out his arm. “Come here, princess.”

I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart beating beneath my ear.

“Clio,” he mutters. “We should talk.”

I inhale a steadying breath and blow it out, bracing myself for the moment when it all comes crashing down around me. He didn’t sign up to give sex lessons to a born-again virgin. This was fun, but I doubt he’ll want to make it a habit.

“You were perfect,” he says, as if sensing where my thoughts have strayed. “But there’s an aspect to my life that I haven’t discussed with you, and I feel like you should know so you can decide where you want to go from here.”

“Ok…”

He toys with the ring on my left hand like he’s nervous. Finally, he says, “I’m bisexual.”

He says it as if he’s the first queer person I’ve met. Far from it. My sister came out as bisexual after we reconnected, and Aunt Penny described her sexuality as fluid. We even attended Pride celebrations in North Carolina. All the same, I do have questions.

“Have you ever been with men?” I ask.

“I have. Does that bother you?”

“No. Not at all,” I say earnestly. “Do you prefer men?”

“Not really. Anatomy isn’t important to me. It’s more about the chemistry.” He pauses for a long moment. “I enjoy anal sex. Giving and receiving.”

“Is… that a dealbreaker for you?”

He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingertips ghosting over the side of my face. “No. But if you wanted to try, I have toys we could use.”

“You mean pegging?” I ask, not bothering to mince words. I’m a grown-ass woman with a subscription to Pleasure Peak.

He nods. “There’s no pressure. I just thought you should know, in case you’ve decided to amend the contract.”

“I’m not putting it in writing, but I might be interested in trying new things.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly he’s on top of me, his hard length pressing between my thighs. “How about we try for another orgasm?”

I laugh. “If you insist.”

“Oh, I insist.”

Then his mouth is on mine, and I’m lost to the pleasure.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for this night. I feel different, somehow. Like he took all of my messed up parts and rearranged them into something new—more whole, but still imperfect.

TWENTY-THREE

LOVE IS A DEATH SENTENCE