Page 53 of Bright Midnight


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But the only war is the one raging inside me.

The one between the past and the present.

The present is winning.

It takes a moment for me to realize what’s happening, but then my mouth opens in total surrender. His tongue slides in against mine, wet, warm, stirring something in the dark depths of me, like a flock of gossamer-winged birds taking flight. The way his lips devour mine, both hard and soft at once, makes me feel like the world is spinning, tipping over, and this kiss is the only thing keeping me centered.

Then I’m leaning forward, grabbing him by the shoulders, my fingers digging into his shirt, trying to hold on, trying to keep him to myself, afraid that if I stop for a moment, I might let him go and he’ll never come back to me.

“Shay,” he whispers against my mouth, his voice rough, brimming with urgency.

I can only whimper in return as he kisses me harder, and then I’m being pushed back, back, until I’m lying down on the blanket. He moves on top of me, his massive body nearly blocking out the waning blue sky and the gold-tinged clouds.

His jacket comes off.

So does mine.

Then my shirt, my bra, his eyes going wide at the sight of my breasts, nipples hard.

Then I’m trying to tug off his shirt, running my fingers over the muscles in his shoulders, his hard pecs, nails scraping down his rigid six-pack, marveling at all his tattoos that he’s added over the years.

But he doesn’t give me a lot of time to gawk.

“Are you…do you have protection?”

I nod. “IUD. Had it for ages.”

He bites his lip, his eyes now coasting over my body as he reaches down and unzips his jeans, pulling out his cock.

My eyes widen at the intimidating sight.

My god, Anders has gotten bigger in every single way possible.

Suddenly I’m slammed with this desperate urge to have him inside me, and I’m unzipping my jeans, shimmying out of them, not self-conscious in the least that I’m now naked beneath him, outside, in daylight. Thank god it’s the flattering glow of magic hour.

Besides, his own naked body is distraction enough.

He positions himself between my thighs, stroking his cock, holding back.

I bite my lip, watching him, wanting him.

His brow furrows, and I can tell he wants to thrust up inside me and go at it, that it’s taking a lot of restraint for him to control himself. His nostrils flare and he’s breathing hard, his breath hitching further as he guides his cock between my legs, rubbing the swollen head against me.

I gasp lightly, my body responding with waves of fire and ice down my spine, my legs spreading further, wanting him inside me. I’m already wet, surprisingly so, and the sound is X-rated, filling the still evening air around us.

His eyes coast over my body, the heat in his eyes building and he shakes his head, letting out a shaking breath. “Words cannot do you justice,” he whispers gruffly, a hint of awe as he takes me in. “They never could.”

He reaches out with one hand, his rough fingertip brushing over my lower lip, then over my chin, between my breasts, over my stomach.

Then he’s leaning forward, capturing my mouth in his and I’m kissing him, lost to the passionate undertow as he starts to push his cock inside me.

Ah. It hurts. Just a little. There’s a pinch and I’m so tight that it takes a bit for my body to loosen, no matter how wet I am. It’s been ages since I last slept with anyone, and it’s not like I brought a handy collection of dildos on my travels. I feel brand new.

It must feel the same way for Anders too, because he lets out a tight noise of pleasure against my mouth, pulling away and sucking in a deep breath. “Jesus.”

Then he looks down at me, and in his stormy blue eyes, I know that this is a big deal for him too. We lost our virginity to each other. We gave each other our bodies a long time ago, learning as we went, figuring out what sex was all about, figuring out what we wanted.

Now we’re older, we’re different, and yet our bodies fit just the same. The way he pushes his cock in, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, brings out some sort of muscle memory in my body. It relaxes through the pain, surrendering to him, remembering.

“Fuck,” he swears, now in to the hilt, and his breath shudders as he exhales, a thumb going over my lip again as he gazes at me with reverence. “Are you okay?”

I can’t help but grin, biting the end of his thumb. It tastes like salt.

“Better than okay,” I manage to say, my voice thick, throaty, relishing the feeling of him so deep inside me. I reach down and grab his ass, all muscle, and pull him into me so that he sinks even deeper.

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