Page 69 of The Fate Factor

Together, we shove them over his hips, along with his boxers. His cock springs free between us, and like a scandalized virgin, I gasp.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Do we need to slow down?”

I shake my head furiously. “No. I’m not… I’m just excited.”

He groans at that, taking himself in his fist, stroking once, then he lets go and walks me backward toward the bed. My childhood bed. I suppose this should feel weird but instead it feels exactly right to be here with him.

The backs of my legs hit the mattress, and Jamie gently presses my shoulder, seating me on the edge. My entire world has shrunk to the expanse of skin in front of me. I’m obsessed with his flat stomach, the soft hair on his chest. His never ending torso that seems from this angle to stretch to the sky.

And then he drops to his knees and my view changes: the top of his head, dark hair, wild from my fingers. He parts my thighs, not bothering to take off my shorts, just pushing the loose fabric to the side, and I feel his breath there, then his open mouth, chin, and nose all pressed against my most sensitive parts. I’m practically begging for his tongue but instead he takes a deep breath in.

“God damn.” He pauses to catch his breath, eyes locked between my legs. “This is, like, highest tier fantasy shit.”

I chuckle nervously. “You didn’t fantasize about me.”

His smile curls and his fingers dip inside of me. I gasp at the ceiling.

And then they’re gone.

Wide-eyed and a little annoyed, I look down to see Jamie run his tongue over his fore and middle fingers, licking like an ice cream cone. “Let’s make a deal,” he says. “I promise not to lie to you, and you promise to believe me when I say I’ve woken up more than once with my hand wrapped around my cock because I was dreaming of tasting you.”

Heat rushes down my spine and I whimper a tiny, nearly imperceptible, “When?”

This timeline feels crucial. I have to know when these dominoes fell into place. This thing is a constant moving puzzle. I don’t understand it. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to.

Jamie’s laugh drips with guilt. “If I told you since that night on the roof, I’d be kind of an asshole, right? Considering I was there with someone else. A long time, either way, now let me.”

He dives back in, hungry and desperate bursts before he gains control and slows the stroke of his tongue to precise, measured movements that blur my vision. My body turns to a puddle of liquid and bones. All I’m capable of in this moment is taking, and I do, rocking my hips, holding the back of his head.

“Fuck, Noe. I could eat this pretty little pussy for every meal.”

“Such a dirty mouth.” I laugh at the ceiling. “I knew it would be.”

His fingers tighten on my hip at that. “So I’m not the only one who’s played this out in my head?”

“Definitely not.” I’m the only one who’sseenit, though. “Come here.” I tug his hair until he looks up at me. “I want to look at you.”

He moves us to the center of the bed, gazing down at me with hooded eyes. His hair is a disaster, one lock laying across his forehead, the rest sticking up every which way.

It’s the same, I think with a full-body shudder. It’sexactlythe same as I saw it.

“Tell me you have a condom,” I say.

“In my wallet.” His thumb presses my lip. “Are you sure?”

I nod. I’m already squirming, hips lifting toward air, wanting him back with a need I’m not accustomed to.

Thankfully, he’s quick, gone and back in seconds, stalking toward me with all of that long-legged swagger. The mattresspresses on either side of me, shifting with his movement as he covers himself.

He dips his head, covering my nipple with his soft lips while his fingers brush between my legs, testing, lining us up, and then he’s there, pushing forward. We pull in matching breaths, and my eyes flutter closed at the slow, tight fit, the way he takes deep, steadying breaths, and when he hits at the hilt, it’s like something that had been spinning around us clicks into place. Like time stops altogether.

He looks down at me wide-eyed and I know he feels it too, the slowing down. I feel my blood drain and fill back up with liquid affection as we lie there eyes-locked, letting it wash over us.

“Fuck, this is intense,” he says, reading my mind.

“For me too.” His hand wraps around my wrist on the pillow as he starts to move, slowly at first until he finds a perfect rhythm that makes my head tip back and my vision blur. Inside my chest, a balloon of emotion expands painfully against my ribs. I pull his mouth to mine, clutching him closer, and it’s with a hazy, back-of-my-brain realization that Iknowit’s never been like this before. Pleasure and affection braided so tightly together that I can’t decipher where one ends and the other begins.

Even if I’d never seen this play out in a premonition, I’d know by the feeling in my chest how important he is.

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