Page 67 of The Gathering
“Yes, yes.”
“I love watching you like this…”
He went from tender to barely restrained chaos and it set off a mean tug-of-war inside her. She was starving for all of him. Dear God, her chest ached for this beautiful broken man. “Don’t ever leave me again,” she choked.
He cradled her head and moved inside her. “Never again, baby.”
So soft and slow. She felt every inch of him leave but holy hell the return was a boom of thunder. He shattered her this way over and over. His body returning to hers was the truth. He’d always return. That’s what he was saying. He might leave, but he’d always come back and wreck her in the best way possible.
He finally lost control and all his broken, buried passions took over. The good, the bad, and the holy hell. He became astorm. Her storm. And she held on for dear life. She couldn’t break, she had to be strong enough for him to unleash.
They had time to sort all the ugly stuff.
There would be a lot of pain on their journey, she knew that. She was okay with it if he stayed and fought with her.
****
The second Ethan’s orgasm took a downward turn, he realized Cat was shaking, and it was all wrong. “Oh fuck! Cat!”
Ethan flew off her, panicking. “Omnis! Help me!”
Nothing.
“Zero!”
Cat continued shaking, making choking sounds. “Oh fuck, fuck,” he yelled, fighting to think, to remember anything. He flew off the bed and found his phone, fumbling for the code. He found Patches and hit the number, hurrying back to the bed. “Nooooo!” he roared as she continued to fucking shake and choke.
“Hey man, we—”
“Cat’s having a seizure!” he yelled. “And I think she’s fucking choking!”
“Did she swallow something? Was she eating?” Patches hurried.
“We were having sex, fuckinghelpme!”
“Where is she?”
“On the bed! Oh God, she’s choking!”
“Get everything away from her. Don’t let her fall off, try to keep her turned on her side. Do you see vomit, blood, anything?”
Ethan put the phone on speaker and threw it on the bed, turning her on her side and searching at her mouth. “I don’t see vomit or blood,” he yelled.
“Is she breathing? Is air moving?”
“I don’t fucking know!”
“Is her chest moving, feel for air at her nose. Where the fuck are you?”
Ethan felt her chest but couldn’t tell with his hands and her shaking.
“What color is she? Blue, gray, or pale?”
He felt at her nose next. “I feel air! Oh God, fuck! I’m at home, the hidden one! She’s… she’s white as fuck,” he gasped.
“White means pale and pale isn’t blue—that’s good. Keep her mouth aimed down. Bishop!” Patches yelled away from the phone. “It’s Ethan, Cat’s having a seizure, call the Creole Kings and tell them to send their fastest bird—she needs a real fucking hospital, not what I have.”
“Holyfuck, I’m on it.”
