Page 60 of Borrowed
He groaned, almost in pain, and then he snapped.
His mouth crashed into mine again, and I tasted copper and water and the ghost of everything we’d burned.His hands wrapped around my waist, flipping me onto the soot-caked floor.My knees hit the ash.My chest found the stone.It felt like sand kissing my nipples.
He was behind me in seconds.
“Tell me this is real,” he breathed against my skin, trailing kisses down my back, across my ass, biting as he went.“Tell me you’re not just another goddamn memory.”
“I’m here,” I moaned, arching up into him.“I’m right here.Feel me.”
He pushed my back down and leaned forward, bowing my back like a sinner at the altar, one hand tangled in my hair and the other sliding between my thighs.He didn’t waste time, not tonight.Not when we both knew this was the last time we could be free.
His fingers sank inside me.
Rough.
Worshipful.
I gasped, clawed at the floor, at him, needing more, needing all of him.
He pressed his forehead to my shoulder blades, his voice ragged.
“I want to destroy you.I hate myself.I can’t hold on.I can’t hold onto you.I feel you slipping away.”
“Then do it.Destroy me,” I whispered.“You were always the one to put me together, Toby.I’m nothing but yours to control.To own.”
And Toby broke.
He lined himself up and slammed into my ass with a choked groan, deep and desperate, his hips crashing into mine like he wanted to bruise every memory into place.I screamed, grabbed his hair, and held him to me like a lifeline.Like if I let go, I’d truly disappear.The fire burned me from the inside out.
He moved like a man chasing his own shadow.
Fast.
Frantic.
Gone.
“I love you,” he hissed against my hair.“I love you, and I’ll never forgive you for it.”
“I don’t want to be forgiven.I want to be remembered.”
“I don’t exist without you.I never have.”
He fucked me hard, filthy.Deep enough, I saw stars.My back arched.My nails dug into his broken boards.Leaving lines in my skin that bled.He kissed me like he was drowning.Like I was the last breath he’d ever take.
When we came, it felt like an earthquake, like the house remembered us.Like the fire wanted to start again.
But I didn’t let go.My muscles remained clamped around him, pulsing in sync with my heartbeat.
Even when his body went slack.
Even when he collapsed on top of me, panting.
Whispering nonsense against my neck.
I held him.
Because we were both already gone.
