Page 64 of Love Again

“Jesus, Devon, I swear you’re the reason I’m alive. You’re the reason I feel,” he says, burying his face in my neck. In the peachy morning sun filtering through the blinds, everything I see is flash cut. His hands run over my body—forehead, throat, collarbone, chest, stomach—sliding around to the small of my back and then my thighs, feeling how wet I am. There’s the sound of ripping foil. A condom.

Then he’s back on top of me again, his hands over my body, pulling me to him, lifting me up, spreading my legs apart. He puts his arms on either side of me and dips down, kissing me deeply.

My body is tight, aching hard, and my hands hang on to his wrists. Moans and other undefined sounds escape my lips

Poised above, he gasps. “Look at me. Devon. Look. At. Me.”

I open my eyes.

In that moment, he plunges all the way into me to his base. I’m stretched wide and nearly come in that instant. I cry out, my head coming forward. He uses a hand to tip it back, and then he kisses me again.

He’s fucking me, and I so want to be fucked.

Luke moves in and out of me, hard, thrusting, pushing me up, and my head is thrown so far back, it’s over the edge of the bed. My arms flail, and he grabs them and pins them down. At the same time, I squeeze him with my sex, gripping him as tight as my groin can.

My eyes are closed now. I can’t see anything. I can feel him filling me, and I clasp him even harder.

He comes. His stomach bunches, muscles rippling, and he bucks five, six, seven times, his arms shuddering with the effort.

Then, it’s over. He moves us to our sides but stays inside me. He kisses my temples, my eyelids, my cheeks, and my mouth—tenderly now.

His stubble has left me with beard-burn, but I love the heat of it on my face. I touch one cheek.

“I’m sorry. Should I have shaved?” He voice is deep, gravelly, sexy.

I can barely speak. I shake my head and cup his jaw with my hand. I kiss the tiny cleft in his chin and then pull his face to mine and kiss him more deeply.

We lie like this for a while, and then he slowly pulls out, the quick intake of breath a testament to how sensitive his penis remains. He rolls onto his back, his cock still throbbing slightly. I go get a washcloth in the shower, run it under some warm water, and come back.

“Give me,” I say, holding out a hand, and he passes me the condom. I flush it down the toilet.

When I return, he’s finished wiping himself.

I nestle into bed with him. His eyes are closed, and his heart still beats hard in his chest. I’m almost asleep again when I feel his hand between my legs. I moan, and the moment my lips part, he’s kissing me.

“I love you, Devon. You are as necessary as the air I breathe,” he says and then covers my lips with his.

I float between being both groggy and aroused. He slips two fingers inside me, then his lips move down my body.

In ten minutes, I don’t care about anything in the world. He takes me to the edge of something twice, and then I go over into some dark, exquisite abyss where my body and mind fold into each other. My body is focused, tight, ready for release, and all my mind can handle are sensations. He’s in me again, but this time, I have no control. Thought is absent—there’s this physical force bearing down on me, boring through me, welling up and exploding.

I scream when I come, loud and hard, and grab his hair and pull him down on me. I writhe under him, thrusting hard, but his hips and weight keep me pinned.

Slowly, with a delicious, laborious clarity, the world comes back into focus.

Luke rests on top of me. My legs shake but are still wrapped around him, my arms holding him the way he held me when I first opened my eyes.

Chapter Seventeen

Devon

I can smell smoke the moment we’re outside. I’m sure they let Cory light the fire on the beach again. He and Bryce are pyro brothers. The first whiff of smoke always makes me alert, even when I know it’s only a pit fire.

That morning, Luke and I stopped on our way into Rockland, picking up something from the Pratchetts. Whatever it was in the Pratchetts’ barn, it stayed in a bag Luke passed to Carlson. I didn’t have time to be inquisitive.

The day was spent with Mateus and Nic, doing a lot of groundwork, computer work—the kind of work that leaves me stiff and grumpy. We go over property titles and make phone calls about other fire sites, including the two down in Massachusetts that Turrow mentioned.

No more teeth were found, and we only discovered two very tenuous connections to Judge Barr.