Page 262 of When We Fall: Part Two
I returned in kind, nipping at his neck, making him growl as he slammed into me. The headboard banged against the wall as he took me harder, deeper, rougher.
I cried out as the fire he was building inside me took over, sweeping the heat through my body until I was coming undone, my body arching against his.
I called out his name until my voice cracked, but he continued to rut into me, making all coherent thoughts fly out of my head.
He was a hurricane, turning my memories to wreckage.
I held onto the ones I cherished and let the rest go, moaning and crying out as he ravaged every part of me until I was coming again, sure I was going to pass out from the pleasure as the room spun above us.
He slammed into me, his body tensing.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he came, his breathing heavy and his skin slick from sweat.
He moved unevenly for a moment before slowing to a stop, his forehead pressed to mine.
“Du bist ein Meisterwerk,”he whispered breathlessly.“Mein Meisterwerk. Mein. Ich werde dich behalten.”
I had no idea what he said, but he was affectionate as he kissed me once more.
“I’ll be right back,” he said softly against my lips before pulling free from my body. I watched him walk to the attached bathroom and close the door.
I winced as I tried to shift in bed to sit up. God, he’d done a number on me.
Sitting up, I carefully pulled the sheet onto my body so I was covered. I could feel how red my cheeks were.
And the tears.
Damnit, no.
I wanted this tonight. I didn’t want to cry. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed his return, but he knelt in front of me and tilted my chin up so I was looking at him.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Hold me?”
Wordlessly, he stood and moved me over before sliding into the big bed next to me. He gently brought me into his arms, where I rested my head on his chest.
He didn’t say anything. He simply held me against him.
Finally, I had myself together.
“I-I don’t do this stuff. You’re my first outside the guys?—”
“I know,” he replied, tracing circles on my arm with his fingers.
“Do-Do you do this stuff often? With women?”
“Sometimes. Not like this, though. Sex, yes. I do have sex. But this? This is different. You are different.”
I went up on my elbow and stared down at him.
“How? I’m so broken?—”
He reached out and cradled my face. “You are not broken in the way you think. You are a work of art. A painting in progress. I cannot wait to see who you are once you’re complete. This is but one step in finding your way.”
“You won’t hate me in the morning?”
“No, I will never hate you.” He guided me back to his lips. “Never think that.” He kissed me softly, and I kissed him back, my worries slipping away.
