Page 58 of The Way We Fell

“Thoroughly.” He seals his lips to mine again, kissing me hungrily. Our mouths battle, lips and tongues rubbing together with perfect synchronicity as he settles against my hips, guiding his length to my entrance and notching himself inside. I moan into the kiss as his first few inches enter me, reveling in the delicious stretch as he slowly pushes further.

“God,” I sigh, turning my head away and sucking in quick breaths. His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking hard against my skin. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Gonna fuck you good,” he says against my throat, rocking his hips forward until he bottoms out, fully seated inside me. “Jesus, fuck, Princess. So fucking hot. Fucking tight little cunt. Fucking perfect.”

I rock my hips up against him and we move together. His hands find their way to my head, one tangling in my hair and the other holding my throat as he kisses me hard. This is more—somuch more—than anything I ever dared to imagine with Jay. It’s more than any man I’ve ever been with. And it’s effortless. There’s no awkward fumbling, no bumping noses or clashing teeth, no awkward hand placements. He’s neither afraid nor too eager with his hand on my throat; he applies exactly the right amount of pressure every time. In the past, boyfriends have refused to engage in breath play, or they’ve taken it too far, but Jay seems to know exactly what I like, and what I need, without even having to ask.

When the heat in my belly begins to unfurl and I moan against Jay’s mouth, his hand on my throat squeezes a little harder, just enough to leave me dizzy as I lock my ankles behind his hips and come with a loud groan. My entire body falls limp and boneless as his thrusts continue at a punishing pace, increasingly erratic, until he stiffens and I feel him spill into the condom before he collapses over me, rolling away quickly to avoid crushing me beneath his solid muscle.

“Thoroughly fucked,” I whisper between heavy breaths. My heart hammers against my ribs as I turn my head to look up at Jay, sucking in gulps of air as he comes down from his orgasm. His body is a work of fucking art. I drag my eyes down his torso, the inked biceps, the clearly defined abs that lead to that delicious cut at his hips.

The trail of dark hair from his navel to his groin. His proud dick, soft and spent, but still impressive. Long, lean legs with a thigh tattoo—because, could this man get any fucking sexier?—and lightly tanned skin, a combination of a decade or more in the Middle Eastern sun, and the golden glow inherited from his Mediterranean mother.

“I keep my promises, Princess.” He cracks open an eye and looks down at me with a lazy smile. “I’m never gonna do it halfway. You want me to fuck you, Princess, I’m gonna fuck you better than anyone ever has. You deserve nothing less.”

No one has ever promised me that before. If they had, I’m not sure I’d believe it. But when Jay reaches for me and tucks me against his chest, I believe every word.

Chapter twenty-nine

Jay

Already,there’snowhereelseI’d rather be than with Katy. On Tuesday, I find myself on her doorstep rather than my own after a day of counselling sessions and working on my car. I’m tired all the way to my bones, and my leg aches from pushing myself to run a little further each time I go to the running track, but I have a night off from work tonight, and all I want to do is be with Katy. Being with her makes the noise in my head just a little quieter, and between Katy and Guy, every day I’m finding myself closer and closer to being able to silence it for myself.

“What are we doing, Jay?”

“I don’t know about you, Princess, but I’m having fun.” I return my mouth to the spot just below her ear, tongue darting out to flick against her earlobe, and she shivers beneath my touch.

“No”—she pulls away—“I meanthis. Us.”

“You mean labels.”

“I wish I didn’t, but, yeah. Babe, we—it’s not just us, here.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I love my sister to death, but fuck, just for once, I need her to not be such a cockblock.”

Katy presses a fist to her mouth to suppress a giggle.

“What do you want this to be?” I take both of her hands in mine and sit on the edge of the sofa, pulling her down beside me, facing me. My thumb and forefinger grip her chin as I search her face.

Fuck, I want this to be everything.Sheis everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I never knew I wanted, and more besides. I’ve always known I wanted a family—a wife, a house, a dog—maybe even kids, someday. Until recently, the vision in my mind was of a faceless woman beside me. But now, it’s Katy. All I see is Katy.

“This isn’t just sex, is it?” she whispers. There’s something in the depths of those eyes, the way the brown darkens to blend almost seamlessly into her wide pupils, that screams of more. That tells me it’s safe to say the words dancing on the tip of my tongue. That I can say what I’ve wanted to say for a long time.

“It’s never beenjust sex, Princess. Not with you.” I tip her chin up to meet my lips, and I capture hers in our most tender kiss yet. It’s neither punishing nor bruising like they have been so far. It’s gentle and sweet, explorative. It feels like a first taste of forever.

After some reheated pizza, we make our way back to the living room with a glass of wine for Katy and a beer on the end table for me. I settle at one end of the sofa and pull Katy against me with her back against my chest and our legs tangled together beneath a fluffy off-white blanket.

“Do you remember the day we first met?”

“Ruth’s birthday?” Katy asks. “It wasn’t that long ago, love. I might be a scatty blonde, but I’m not that blonde.” She prods a fingertip into my thigh with a chuckle.

“No, we met before then,” I say. I stretch out my arm, taking Katy’s hand with me. I hold our hands out, marvelling at the size difference as our palms press together.

It’s been three weeks since that memory popped into my mind unbidden, and I’ve barely stopped thinking about it. I don’t even remember much about Katy from that day. We never spoke; I only interacted with Amie and Ruth. But I do remember the intricate pigtail braids that hung halfway down her back, and the pink glitter that spread across her cheekbones from the corners of her eyes.

“We did?”

“We did,” I confirm. “I don’t know when. Maybe fifteen or sixteen years ago? I think Rooey had just met you and Amie.”

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