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My eyes fly open. I didn’t realize he was watching me. I smile at him and lean forward to claim his lips in a slower kiss, a sweeter kiss, but one stroke of his tongue against my bottom lip, and I’m back to eating him like a frenzied wild animal. My hips take over, driving myself against his cock and back against the cabin as his thrusts increase in tempo.
Soon, he’s driving into me, and I’m driving forward and back with him, clutching at his face and shoulders and eating at his lips. He’s so hard. His body is the stuff of dreams, but it’s him I want—the Leon inside all those muscles, the Leon that he never lets the world see.
The orgasm isn’t a complete surprise, but the intensity of it is. I grind against him while I ride out the waves, waves that are brutal and hot, waves that own me completely. I can feel myself clenching around his shaft, going wild against him, even as I’m somewhere up in the sky. I come until I feel like I’m going to lose my mind, and then I come some more because his thrusts haven’t slowed down.
He finishes inside me with a groan that is controlled, which is so Leon. He shakes after, his body slick with a sheen of sweat, his breaths hot against my cheek. He presses his forehead against mine, not hard, but leaning in until we’re connected that way, too, then he kisses me tenderly. So sweetly. He doesn’t say anything for a long time. We just cling to each other while the world goes crazy around us, the wind whipping and howling, the lake crashing, and the rain driving down.
I love being wrapped in him. And I love that I’m wrapped around him too. This was quick and hard and fast, but next time, I’m going to take my time.
I realize a few minutes later that I’m shivering, and it’s not just from the crazy, overwhelmingly amazing, and awesome unicorn, and I mean mythical in that sense, sex we just had.
“I—I guess I should get around to that window and work on getting it open,” I whisper as my teeth chatter together.
Leon’s brows furrow together in concern. “Are you cold?”
“Maybe a little,” I admit.
“It’s still storming, and there’s lightning. I don’t think either of us should work at the window out in the open until the storm is over.”
“But that could take all night.”
Very carefully and quietly, Leon pulls away. He snatches my towel from earlier off the porch and wraps it around me, then he sweeps me up into his arms and sits down right there on the hard wood of the porch. He cradles me so gently, pulling me into him so that I’m warm and comfortable and sleepy.
Suddenly, it’s hard to keep my eyes open.
“The storm is so beautiful,” he says thickly.
I look up at him to agree, but he’s not looking out beyond the porch, at the lake, or at the yard. He’s looking right at me.
I’m so much more than falling now.
12
DARBY
The sound of a car door slamming pulls me from a deep sleep. For a second, I have no idea where I am, what bed I’m in, or what time it is. It’s bright out, but it’s the kind of bright that’s trying its hardest to get through the tightly closed blinds and succeeding, so I know it’s late in the day, which makes sense because we went to bed late. I mean, early. As in eight or nine in the morning after crawling through the window to unlock the house and then making eggs and bacon for dinner slash breakfast.
I get out of bed quickly, scrambling for the window. I realize, as my sleep fog clears, that we took the queen-sized bed in my parents’ bedroom. Okay, it’s not really my parents’ room. It’s mainly just a room with a big bed, which my parents often sleep in. Or my grandparents. That’s what makes me feel like a trespasser. Like I did something naughty by sleeping, and uh…not sleeping in it.
We also did some not-so-sleeping sleeping on the kitchen table early this morning after our breakfast/supper—breakupper? Brupper? Breaper?
A quick crack of the blinds lets in far too much sunlight for my sleepy brain to handle. My eyes instantly tear up at the brightness, and my breath catches when I see my parents’ car in the driveway. My dad is getting out, his cane first, and then my mom walks around to the passenger side to help him.
“Shit!”
I drop the blinds and tear myself away from the window. Leon is still sleeping soundly. He’s so peaceful, sprawled on his side with one arm thrown up around his face, which is so unguarded and beautiful. His breaths are deep, even, and completely unaware that my freaking parents arehere. The sight of his naked chest, the slope of his shoulders, and the heavy fringe of lashes on his cheeks do me in. I want to drape myself over him and protect him forever. I want to fix what goes on with his head. I want to fix his past. And I want, more than anything, to have him for the foreseeable future.
I don’t know how to wake him up. I don’t want to hurt him, and I’m still so worried about his migraines. I settle for running my finger lightly down the arm that is sticking out of the sheet.
“Leon,” I whisper. He doesn’t stir. My heart is starting to pound. My dad will take a while to walk up to the porch because of his foot and the cane, and the door is locked, but they have keys. I brush my fingertips over Leon’s temples, then run them through the soft strands of his hair. “Leon, sweetheart, wake up.”
He stirs at that, his eyes opening. He blinks sleepily, looking as confused as I was earlier, and then puts a hand over his eyes to shield them. He turns over onto his back, and I know I don’t have time to do it, but I can’t help it. I lean forward and kiss him, and whoever said that morning breath was a thing didn’t know Leon Montague because he tastes like sweet, minty heaven. And himself. That’s the best part.
Me, on the other hand? Shit. Morning breath might be a thing for me. I try to pull back, but his hand comes up and grasps the back of my neck, holding me close. I let him take his time kissing me breathless until finally, he breaks away.
“My parents are here,” I pant. “Shit. They’re probably at the door by now.”
That makes him tense. “Your parents?”
