Falling Into You (Falling 1)

We’d kissed before, and it was—every time—the best kiss I’d ever had. My heart clenches when I realize this includes, by a landslide, every kiss Kyle ever gave me. There’s just no comparison. That hurts, that does. It hurts so sweet, so deep, so strange, I just don’t know what to do with it.

This kiss…I’m gone. Gone. I know, in that moment, that I belong to him. It’s what he said: I’m his. How it happened, I don’t know. I really wish I did.

“Last chance, Nelly-baby.” His voice is in my ear, not even a whisper, just breathed subvocalization that I feel on my ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

I push him up and I see the hurt in his eyes before I can correct him. He starts to get off, but I catch his bicep and still him in place. I curl my fingers under the hem of my shirt and peel it off. Colton’s eyes go wide and he licks his lips.

“I want this.” I say it as loud as I can, which is a breathless gasp, at most. “I need this.”

His eyes change, then. They go feral.

Oh boy, here we go.

“Take off your thong and spread your legs.”

“Say please.” I find strength in the game. My terror, my vulnerability abates, and I’m thankful.

He just stares at me. I don’t move to comply. He shakes his head and half-blinks in disbelief. And then he tugs on my thong and it comes apart. He didn’t jerk it, he didn’t expend any effort. He just put two fingers around the string at my hip, two fingers of the other hand inside the triangle over my core, and tugged. Rip. Gone. I’m naked. That easy.

“I liked that thong,” I protested.

“Should’ve listened then.” He slides his fingers down my belly, which clenches, and across my pudendum and down my tight-clamped thighs. “Now, spread your legs and feel free to scream. No one can hear.”

“Wha—oh.” I don’t even have time to process my confusion before his tongue is doing something wicked to my clit.

I spread my legs. Wide. I tuck my heels against my bu**ocks and let my knees fall apart. I’m shameless.

“Yeah, Nelly. Just like that,” he breathes onto my folds. “God…damn. Sweet as sugar.”

I blush at his words, and then I’ve got no headspace for anything but the screams ripping from my throat. Because god…I’ve never felt anything like this. Not ever. I writhe on the bed, arch up, buck in time to his tongue’s lapping. And then…oh yeah, it gets better. He slides a finger inside me and curls it, and I just…lose it. I combust. I scream so loud it hurts my own ears, upon which I clamp my teeth together and past gritting jaws.

“Trust me?” His voice is a surprise, and I’m so lost in sensation I don’t even understand his words.

“Wha—what?”

“Do. You. Trust me.” His fingers haven’t stopped their curling and swirling and exploring.

“Your fingers are inside me, so yes.”

“You might want to bite a pillow.”

“Why…?” I start the question, but I never finish it. “Oh…shit!”

He laughs, but it’s a pleased laugh. He’s got two fingers in my folds now, and a third is…oh hell. I don’t even believe it, can’t even fathom or understand it, but it’s down there. Dirty and dark.

I bite a pillow. My entire existence is a vortex of raging ecstasy. I simply cannot contain it. I’m coming apart at the seams, and I’m not even coming yet. Or maybe I am. Maybe this is what lies beyond the edge, and this is the first time I’ve ever really been here. I don’t know. I can’t keep it in. I scream into the pillow, and I sob, and I arch, and I buck. I find my fingers tangled in his hair and crushing him wontonly against me, even as I’m begging him.

Begging him to what, I don’t know.

“Colton…Colton…please…oh god, ohgod, ohmigod…”

See? Am I asking him to stop? To never ever stop, not even to breathe? I don’t know.

It’s just a tiny intrusion, really, the very tip of his finger wiggling inside me in my forbidden place. But it’s earth-shattering.

“What…what are you doing to me?” I ask.

“Making you come. Fingering your tight, virgin ass**le.” He returns his mouth to my folds and sucks my turgid nub into his mouth, and I scream, arch into him. “I’m getting you ready.”

“Ready for what?” I want to know. God, do I want to know. There’s more?

“Come, and I’ll show you.”

“I thought I was coming?”

He chuckles. “Oh no.” He reaches up with his free hand, and suddenly he’s everywhere. Pinching my nipple and rolling it, and fingering me, curling and thrusting, licking, sucking… “Come. Now.”

It’s a command, and I have no choice but to obey. I explode into pieces, liquid and fire and screams and sobs. Actual sobs. Like, with tears.

And then…then he crawls up my body like the predator he is. The stubble around his mouth is wet. From me. I blush, hard.

Holy god, ohmigod, oh shit. He’s so huge. All muscle and broad lines and hard edges, so big above me. His presence blocks out the world. All I see is tattoos and skin and sapphire eyes and sable hair. And then I glance down, and see his…his him. His cock.

I like that word. I never use it. I started swearing openly after Kyle died. I just didn’t care anymore. But sex? Gone. No part of my life, after that. I swore, I cursed, I drank, but I couldn’t fathom sex. I buried myself in classes at a community college and worked for Daddy in his office and saw no one, did nothing, was no one. I worked. I studied. I played music. I was the living dead, a guilt-ravaged shell.

Now…I’m alive. So alive. And I like dirty words.

I’m shameless. And I like it. Partially because the guilt of what we’re doing is a new kind of pain, and pain centers me.

Back to his cock. It’s…glorious. I just…oh god. I felt it, before. But seeing it all, every thick inch coming for me…I forget to breathe and bite my lip.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” His voice is so, so tender.

He thought I was afraid, I think. And suddenly, with that realization, I am. I’m terrified. Scared shitless. Another realization washes over me, and it brings wave after wave of pain, guilt, shame, and tears.

“Nell? What is it? Why are you crying?” He falls to the side of me and nuzzles my face with his nose. “Shit. Shit. I did this. Too much. God…damn it.” He presses his palm to his forehead.