Page 167 of Drown Like Heaven
His body was layered on top of mine, so I couldn’t really move, even when I tried. He was a lot heavier than me, keeping me pinned down, preventing me from falling off the edge. I tried to focus on that—his weight on top of me. I felt dizzy, my thighs tensing.
Micah flattened his palm on my chest, over my heart, feeling how hard it was beating. My blood was hot, so hot, like fire burning through me, igniting a perfect danger in my core. I stared up at him, the fear in my mind twisting perversely into something else.
There were universes in his eyes. Truths I’d never uncover. Labyrinths I could never hope to escape.
I won’t fall. He won’t let me fall.
My mouth felt dry and my hands were shaking, but my thoughts were racing with reckless possibilities. Adrenaline dripped in my veins like a drug. A high I couldn’t get any other way.
Maybe if I get a little closer to the drop…it’ll feel like flying.
I wiggled backwards, my chest expanding, cold air rushing into my lungs, fresh off the ocean. I arched my back, my shoulders pressing off the edge of the cliff as I tilted my chin up, looking at the world upside down with my long hair hanging down. My stomach clenched when a small chunk of dirt crumbled off the edge, and I instantly stopped shifting my body.
I didn’t turn to watch the dirt sift down the steep drop, too scared to move again.
Micah kept his body over mine, his hand sliding up to wrap around my throat, fingers pressing into the sides. His cock was hard—I could feel that now—and heat flared low in my belly, lust sparking in my blood, my nipples pulled tight with need.He likes this too.
He’ll keep me safe.
Would he fuck me like this?
Mental images of it caused wetness to gush in my underwear, my clit swelling in abrupt little kicks.
I nervously rolled my hips under his, pushing my chest up, my pulse flying.
“I wish I had wings,” I rushed, exhilaration making me dizzy. Micah moved his free hand down between us to unbutton my jeans, then tug down the zipper.Yes. Fuck.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” He shifted his weight to one side of my body so he could wedge his hand down the front of my pants, forcing his way inside my underwear, fingers brushing over the slickness dripping from me.
“So I could fall backwards right now,” I panted, stretching my neck back. The wind ruffled my hair, his hair, our clothes, dancing through the space between our lips, tangling deep in my lungs.
Another small clump of dirt cascaded away. Not nearly enough to destabilize where I was laying, but enough to make me think about it.
My heart was beating like it wanted out of my chest, terror and want bleeding together until they became completely inseparable. Two halves of my whole fantasy. A whimper lodged in my throat when Micah started rubbing my clit.
“But instead of hitting the ground, I’d fly,” I continued.
Micah leaned down, kissing my throat as he stroked my pussy. The angle wasn’t quite right and my jeans were stiff, too tight against me, but the fear was making me desperate. It was risky and dangerous and stupid to let him finger me like this, but that was why I liked it.
“That’s what you want?”
“Yes,” I moaned when he slid a thick finger into me. “I would go fly out to one of those big rocks in the ocean and sit there until I was ready to leave. Then I’d get the fuck out of here.”
“You’d look pretty with some angel wings,” he said, curling his finger, putting pressure on a spot deep inside of me. My cheeks were hot, my breaths shallow. I grabbed my breast with one hand, still burrowing my fingers into the dirt with the other. “Really fucking pretty.”
I was trying to move a bit, to buck my hips so I could grind my needy clit on his palm. I couldfeelhow wet his hand was getting. Micah repositioned himself lower on my body, stretching my underwear, cupping between my thighs, holding me like he owned me.
Don’t let me go.
But it wasn’t enough. I neededmore.
Give me more.
I tried to remember to keep breathing as Micah shoved a second finger inside me, pushing me another inch off the edge. I gritted my teeth, sucking in a breath, my body torn between the desire to crawl back to safety and the desire to go even further. I squeezed my breast harder.
“You like being scared,” he said, his voice so low.
I couldn’t nod, couldn’t answer him at all now that I’d realized my weight had shifted just enough that I wasn’t sure if I’d even be able to stop myself from tumbling backwards if he were to stand up. He was the only reason I hadn’t plummeted to my death.
