Page 173 of Before You Fell

Her hands grip my thighs, nails biting into my skin. When her throat relaxes around me, I completely lose it.

I fuck her mouth harder and deeper.

My hand holds her where I need her and my hips find a rhythm that has her swallowing around me and my vision blurring. The wet heat of her mouth is everywhere. Her lips are tight around my shaft and her tongue works the underside of my dick with every thrust. Saliva slicks over my cock and shines on her lips.

Tears gather in her eyes but she keeps looking at me through them while taking me.

She keeps making that broken little moan around my cock that vibrates straight up my spine and makes my hips snap forward harder.

“You like the taste of my cock, Wills,” I say, voice shot to shit.

She moans around me and my whole body shudders so hard I nearly lose my footing.

“Yeah you fucking do.” I pull back enough for her to breathe for a second, then push back in. “Show me how fucking much you love my cock.”

She rises higher on her knees and takes me again. Deeper this time. Hungrier. Her mouth working me with a desperation that matches mine.

I fuck her mouth like a madman.

My hips drive forward in a rhythm I cannot control anymore. My hand fisted in her hair holds her exactly where I need her and the wet heat of her mouth around my cock is so good it borders on pain. Every thrust punches a groan out of me. Every pull back makes me chase it, makes me drive forward again harder, chasing that sensation with everything I have.

The pleasure builds from the base of my spine, hot, heavy, and inevitable. I can feel it gathering and coiling.

“Fuck. Wills, I’m going to…”

She moans around me and takes me deeper.

My hips stutter, drive forward one last time, burying myself deep as the orgasm tears through me. I groan a sound I have never made for anyone and I pulse hot down her throat—once, twice, then again—holding her there while my cock spills everything I have into her.

The pleasure is blinding. Each pulse wringing another groan out of me. My thighs shakes, my hand trembles in her hair, and my cock throbs with every wave.

“Swallow it,” I command her. “Take it all like the dirty girl you are.”

Her throat moves around me.

When the orgasm has moved through me, I pull back slowly, dragging through her lips, and slide back in, feeling every last sensation, milking the final drops from me until I am completely empty, shaking, and barely standing.

I glance down at her. She’s wrecked, beautiful, and mine.

“Fuck, Wills,” I breathe. “Fuck.”

Something cracks open in my chest that has nothing to do with the pleasure still moving through me.

I could have had this years ago. I could have loved her the way she deserved to be loved instead of fucking my way through every city on every tour, trying to outrun the fact that she was the only one who ever made me feel something. I kept telling myself I was protecting her from me, that a man like me would wreck a woman like her. But the ugly truth is that I was protecting myself from loving her so completely that losing her would finish me when she finally realized who I am.

And I still almost lost her anyway.

The words are right there, sitting in my chest where they have lived for years, growing heavier every time she looks at me.

Tell her you love her. Say it. You coward. Fucking say it.

But they don’t come out.

I lean forward, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her with everything I can’t say out loud yet. Her mouth opens under mine and she makes a sound against my lips that does things to my chest that I am not ready to examine.

I pull her up against me. Her body is warm and soft and her eyes are still dark and wanting.

“You are fucking perfect,” I say against her lips.