Page 88 of Torn

At last, the waistband loosens, and then she’s shoving the jeans down. And then her heels finish the job, wrenching the material to his knees. And then he’s stomping them into the path, punting them to the side.

And there he is.

There he is, standing before her with nothing left, with so much to give. Sheets of water pour over his tapered form, from those cliffside shoulders, to the ladder of rib bones, to the slender V…to that rigid, restless spot.

The length of him strains for her. Just for her.

How long has she fantasized about seeing him like this?

His stance isn’t as impervious as it once was, nor as confident. There’s no self-control, nor as much power as there once was. His pride has been tainted, and his heart has been severed, and he doesn’t know everything.

He’s been rebuffed. He’s been wrong.

That’s why he’s glorious. That’s why this is gloriously imperfect.

It’s even better than when she’d thought him flawless, even better than her illusions have been. Disenchanted, now she sees him fully for who he is. And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Communicating through her touch, through her stare, she traces his features, all the splendors and faults. And he sees it, because those lambent eyes cling to hers, and they soften.

Then his irises thrash, just like a star. He swoops in, and she welcomes the onslaught of his mouth, the cadence of his tongue. On the brink and battered by rain, they tear each other inside out.

He tugs on her lips, drawing her into a turbulent kiss. Not once have they been naked at the same time, and tonight is no exception, because she’s covered, and he’s not.

It doesn’t matter. There’s no vulnerability, no imbalance, only desire as their bodies align. Ushering her toward him, at the ledge’s inner rim, Anger locks her hips in place, while she tucks him into her. Her hands span his backside, ready to guide him, to urge him.

He’ll do this strongly. She’ll do this dearly.

The tip of him finds her entrance, the slot where they’ll join. At the contact, the hard grazes the soft, needy sighs bursting from their mouths.

Gracious, that feels…

Anger swings his pelvis, prodding more, nudging that barrier. With her scalp tingling, Merry gives a pleading whine.

Catching her eyes, he pauses. And then his hips pivot upward.

A cry skids from Merry’s throat, his length impaling her so thoroughly that her spine curls, on the verge of fracturing. If she were a human, it would have. But she’s not human, so she can take this, she can take him.

He mashes his face into her neck, listening to her whimpers. Cushioned inside her, Anger kisses her cheek, brushes her sobbing mouth with his.

He drags his lips to her ears. “Tell me,” he grates.

She cups his rear and pushes him forward. “Right there.”

Rightthere, Anger’s hips begin to snap. His waist revolves, his body veering into hers. Moans fall from their lips, punctuated by every lunge, every beating collision.

With each thrust, with each pass, Merry arcs in a frantic pace. His teeth graze her chin, lolling her head even farther backward. Her consciousness dissolves to one point, a bright star at the crux of her body, a succinct yet eternal sensation. Her thighs ride his waist as he stands upright, as she splays around him, as the heavens eddy above them.

He pitches inside her with long, searching strokes. It’s harsh, and it’s frenzied, and it’s right. And no matter how long it lasts, she’s not there, and he’s not there. They chase a summit that’s continuously out of reach, not there yet, not there yet, not there yet.

But rather than give up, they speed up. That’s the thing about deities. They can keep going as long as they desire.

Merry would laugh, if she weren’t bleating in pleasure. He’s making love to her so fiercely, so honestly, so good.

And now she knows what this feels like.

She contorts against Anger. Unrecognizable noises spiral out of her, his own desperate sounds chafing into her ear. Anger cinches his mouth over hers, the kiss matching their relentless movements. Her heels have been linked across his back, but now they fall apart, dangling and sprawling her even more for him.

“Do something,” she begs.

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