Page 77 of Fallen Crown

“Need some help?” Tucker’s tone is teasing.

“No, I—” I glance in her direction, and the hope and uncertainty are bare on her face for me to witness. We’re not pretending with each other, and her expression is a good reminder. We take each other just as we are. “I think I might be nervous.” I wince.

“About being with me?” A slow grin spreads across her face. “Really?”

Her delighted reaction is enough to smother my nerves, and I unzip the first aid kit to discover an entire string of condoms. “Tucker, how much sex were you planning to have?”

“First rule of adventure racing—always be prepared.” Her grin is saucy.

“And for that, I am grateful,” I say, and I smooth her hair back before ripping off one of the packages. I tap it against my thumb. “Your thigh, though. I don’t want to hurt you.” But I’m stalling because there are a hundred ways I could enter her and never come near her injury.

Tucker lets the sleeping bag slide to the floor, and her naked body is pure perfection. The only light in the room is the glow from the space heaters, and she’s ethereal. Slowly, she turns onto her stomach, and she glances at me over her shoulder.

“Are you going to make me beg?” she asks.

I fear the only begging that’ll be happening will be mine from now on. I slide my hand along her lower back, and she arches into the contact. After this, I’m convinced there will be no going back. The minute I sink into her, I’ll never want to be anywhere else.

“You’re sure?” I ask her, but it’s really for me. Am I sure?

She grabs my hand and slides it between her legs where she’s wet with need.

Before I can second-guess myself, I rip open the condom with my teeth, and I roll it over my shaft. She rises onto her knees, and I’m poised at her entrance with one hand on her hip and the other braced against the arm of the couch. Her palm covers my knuckles, and the last of my hesitation, my willpower, vanishes.

I slide into her, and I lose myself completely.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Maren

In the past, sex has been good. Good enough that I was happy to do it again, but it’s never crossed that plane into whatever is occurring between me and Brice. We’re so in sync as he moves inside me that I’m trembling. It’s terrifying and exhilarating to be so full of want and need. That’s what it feels like—I don’t just want this connection—I need him. All of him. That’s the exhilarating part. The terrifying part is that I can’t imagine this sensation ending. At this point, it would be like having a piece of me ripped out.

His hand smooths down my spine, and then he circles around to flatten his palm against my stomach, driving deeper into me. For the first time in my life, I think I might come from sex alone. Something is building inside of me again, a volcano ready to erupt, and I’m loving every second of the escalation. I’m floating on a plane of heightened awareness. It’s too much and not enough.

Overwhelming. But so, so good.

“I don’t understand why this feels… Why does this feel so good?” I gasp as his fingers slide between my slick folds.

“Magic,” he murmurs before planting an open-mouthed kiss on the curve of my neck. “Witchcraft.” His breath is hot in my ear, and his chest skims against my back.

Sensations course through me, hard to decipher, but the experience is definitely otherworldly. I grip his hand on the couch, and his thumb latches onto one of my fingers, locking it against him.

The second orgasm rushes through me with unexpected force, and I cry out, arching into Brice, and reaching for his hand that’s between my legs to still his movement. Too much. Not enough. I already want it all over again even as I squeeze the length of him over and over, trying to catch my breath.

“Magic,” he whispers, before latching on to my hip, and following me over the edge.

Brice is curled around me on the couch, his relaxed breathing in my ear, and guilt is creeping across me, insidious and unwanted. I have no reason to feel guilty that I just experienced more pleasure with Brice in one night than I did in five years with Enzo. After a few faltering attempts at oral sex when we first started dating, he never bothered pursuing it again. No boyfriends before him had much luck either, so I didn’t blame him or his lack of perseverance. As far as I knew, it wasn’t a way I could achieve an orgasm.

That’s not to say I went completely without during our relationship, but climaxes were few and far between. A happy accident rather than something either of us expected me to achieve.

Sex was usually pleasurable and fun, but it never reached the intensity of what happened between me and Brice tonight. That’s where the guilt and confusion seeps in. I’ve never felt this kind of connection with Enzo, despite the fact we got married. I didn’t even know a bond could be this powerful, and to realize I might never experience this all-consuming high again makes me sad.

We’re a fling. A rebound. An on-set romance that’ll end as soon as the director calls cut. All the pretty words in the world don’t change the hard truths Brice has also given me. He’s not the forever guy. He doesn’t want to be a happily ever after for me or anyone else. The baby he craves I can’t easily give him, unlike most women in the world. I’ll never carry a child, let alone his. To realize that what’s divided me and Enzo is also what’ll drive an impossible wedge between me and Brice makes my stomach clench.

“You’re so tense.” Brice kisses the back of my neck.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I didn’t realize he’d woken up.

“What’s got your brilliant brain in knots?” His voice is rough with sleep.