His fingers are digging into my skin by the time my lips finally make it to his. I keep them an inch away, close enough to breathe his air, careful not to brush. The longer we hover there, poised on the edge of a kiss like a swimmer on a diving board twenty feet above the pool, the more potent the tensionbecomes.
This is the moment before the fall. The last, breathless instant of toe-curling deliberation before thedive.
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and that’s all ittakes.
The tensionsnaps.
With a growl, Beck’s mouth crushes mine. My hands slide into his hair as his arms band around me like steel, plastering me against him so tight it’s difficult to draw breath. He holds me like a promise, his body whispering everything we’re both afraid to admit outloud.
Mine is speaking the samelanguage.
The bralette disappears over my head in Beck’s hands, so fast I hardly notice him removing it until my bare chest brushes against his muscular one. My teeth sink into my lip. I catch a fleeting glimpse of a wolfish grin before his mouth drops lower, laving one of my nipples with his wicked tongue until I am no more than putty in his vastly capablehands.
“Beck,” I beg, barely able to form theword.
I don’t know exactly what I need; I just know I needmoreofit.
Lips, teeth,tongues.
Him.
His hands are infinitely gentle as he lays me back against the cold cave floor. I feel them shaking as they trace sensual patterns on my skin and know what this display of restraint is costinghim.
“Touch me, please,” I breathe, staring up into his face. “I promise I won’t break,Beck.”
“Youmight not. Maybe I’m afraidIwill.” His voice is a growl. “I don’t think you know what touching you does tome.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, watching the firelight flicker across his skin. “So… why don’t you showme?”
His eyes flash with such intense heat I think I’ll burst into flames. I thought, after so many months, I’d memorized his every expression but now, as his mouth parts on a shaky exhale, I watch his features rearrange into a look I’ve never seen before. It’s as though he’s taken off a mask to reveal the true man beneath — his edges a little sharper, his needs a little stronger, his hands a bit lessgentle.
Yes.
Finally,yes.
My heartbeat quickens to a mad tattoo I can’t control as he strips off the rest of our clothes. His drugging kisses melt my bones into rubber as his mouth moves down my neck and across the planes of my stomach. Head bowed, he maneuvers my calves up onto hisshoulders.
I watch him move in the semi-dark, barely breathing. When our stares tangle once more, I see his need to possess every inch of me warring with his desire to make my first time as pleasurable aspossible.
“Violet,” he rasps, a question andplea.
“Please,” I breathe, an answer and aprayer.
With a violent buck of his hips he thrusts into me, tearing through the last traces of my innocence in a single stroke. I cry out at the unfamiliar pressure, eyes stinging with tears, my mewls absorbed by his mouth as it claims mine in a relentless kiss. He moves within me, pace increasing in smooth strokes, and after a few moments, I begin to adjust. The ache of pain and shock morphs into something entirely different as my body finds a matching rhythm beneath hisweight.
So this is what all the fuss is about,I think, beginning to spiral into bliss.It was worth every second of that torturouswait.
Pleasure grows in steady increments, a drumbeat inside my veins growing faster and faster as I stare up at Beck, seeing nothing but pure wonder reflected back at me. As if he too is awed that our bodies could come together to create this whole symphony of euphoria, flowing from him to me and back again in perfect harmony. There is music in my veins, a melody between my legs I’ll never forget no matter how much time goes by, no matter where we end up — together or apart, uncharted or back on solidground.
Beck Underwood sings the song of mysoul.
For the next few hours, as the typhoon rages on outside, we gasp and cry and sigh, creating a storm all our own within the circle of each other’sarms.
* * *
The walkback to camp the following day is slow for many reasons — not the least of which involves the tinge of pain that flares deep inside me with each step, a constant reminder of Beck’s thorough possession last night… and again this morning as our candles burned low and the rain tapered to a drizzle overhead. As much as we’d hated the cave at first, by the time the storm passed I could hardly bring myself toleave.
I smile absentmindedly at the memory, squeezing Beck’s hand tighter as he helps me over a particularly large fallen palm. He grins back, more joy on his face than I’ve everseen.