Page 144 of When She Falls (The Fallen)
I gasp at the sensation of him stretching me. “It’s so damn good,” I whisper against his lips.
“You like my cock stretching your tight little cunt?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Ras pushes all the way in. God, he’s in so deep I can practically feel him in my stomach.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re perfect.”
I shiver from his praise. By now he’s learned how much I like it and he heaps it onto me.
Ras kisses my shoulder and starts moving, each thrust pressing me harder against the wall. My body buzzes, my nerve endings vibrating with pleasure. Everything feels so right.
It’s like my body’s made for him.
His mouth latches onto mine, biting and licking at my lips. I squeeze his biceps and arch my back until the spot is just right. “Oh my God.”
“There you are.” His palms squeeze my ass. “Fuck, baby. Milk my cock with that tight cunt.”
My muscles contract on their own at his words, and then my world shrinks to the feel of him inside of me and nothing else.
I fall over a steep edge and find oblivion.
Ras lets out a low moan and breaks apart moments after me. “Mine. You’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I pant, clutching onto him like he’s the only tether I have left to reality.
I want to stay in this feeling. Luxuriate in it. But an intrusive thought comes right on the heels of my last words.
When the honeymoon phase ends, how long will it take for him to regret losing everything because of you?
A wave of dread crashes right through the warm haze.
Ras pulls out of me and lowers my feet to the ground. He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I let him wash my hair and lather up my body, but my mind is elsewhere.
Is this how it’s going to be? Even in our best moments, will there always be an undercurrent of dread?
There’s a guillotine hanging above us, and we’ll remember it every time we look away from each other.
We dry off and go to have breakfast in the kitchen like everything’s okay, but it doesn’t take him long to notice the change in me.
He sees the look on my face and frowns. He’s become so good at reading me, it’s as if I’m his favorite book.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand into his. “You’re tense.”
I avert my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he implores, his voice low and penetrating. “Not to me.”
My lip gets caught between my teeth. “I’m afraid of how this will end.”
His eyes dim, like he wanted me to be honest, but maybe notthathonest. Or maybe he’s been avoiding thinking about our future because he knows there are no easy answers.
At his silence, my walls rise up. “Never mind.”
“Hey.” He lets go of my hand and slides off the sofa to kneel before me, putting our eyes at the same level. “This? It will never end. I know you’re scared. I know. But we can figure out anything as long as we’re together. You hear me? We will take it one day at a time.”
