Between Here and the Horizon(75)

My senses were overloading, greedily trying to shove each other out of the way so I could focus on how he looked, how he felt, how he smelled and how he tasted all at once. Sully seemed as if he were fighting the exact same battle.

“You’re not real,” he told me, curling a piece of my hair around his index finger. “How can you be?”

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I said breathlessly.

“Then why do I constantly feel like I’m underwater when I’m with you? Dreaming? Imagining every second?” His mouth came down on mine, hungry and demanding. I didn’t tell him I felt the same way. He wouldn’t give me the breath to do it. He demanded it all from me, demanded everything I had. His hands worked their way underneath my shirt, moving confidently upwards, until he was roughly cupping my breasts. He bit my lip at the same time, tugging on it sharply, growling a little. My head was spinning. The powerful beam of light swept across us again, turning night into day, and Sully took hold of my shirt, pulling it off over my head in one swift movement. My bra didn’t last long either. He reached around and unfastened the clasp at the back, then tore the straps from my shoulders, throwing it over his shoulder.

My back arched away from the wall of thick glass behind me so that my chest was offered up to Sully; he took full advantage of the fact and bent over me, taking one of my peaked nipples into his mouth, and then the other. His hands were full of me. My head was full of him.

“Sully. Oh my god, please…” What was I begging for? I didn’t even know. For him to be inside me? For him to throw me down on his bed and take me? I definitely wanted that, but my plea was asking for more than that. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t ruin this. Please don’t let me ruin this. Please don’t let me go. Please don’t let me love you…

Begging could only get you so far, though. I was filled with an undeniable, solid awareness of myself, and how little control I had over my own heart. It was a treacherous, cruel thing that kept trying to lead me down a path I didn’t want to go down. In reality, I was blundering my way blindly down that path already, lost and so turned around that I didn’t know which way was up, and Sully was the only thing I could see anymore.

He smoothed both of his hands over my hair, then down over my shoulders, resting them on my hips. “How stupid are we being, Lang? How much further are we going to let this go?” he asked hoarsely.

“I don’t know.” My own voice was small. Unsure. Scared. Sully pressed his forehead against mine, breathing out heavily. He closed his eyes, muscles in his jaw jumping, like he was struggling to stop himself from tearing me apart.

“I already told you,” he said. He sounded calm, but it was a false calm, too flat and too even to be real. I could still feel how crazed his pulse was beneath my hands, evidence of his true emotional state. “I already told you I wasn’t going to hold back.”

“Then why are you?”

He laughed softly. “For you. Because I’m thinking of someone else before myself for the first time in a very long time. Frankly, it sucks.”

I kissed him. I kissed him long, and I kissed him hard. “Let go of the reins,” I said. “Neither of us want to be gripping them so tightly right now.”

He opened his eyes. I felt as if I were pinned to the spot, unable to move. “No bullshit?” he asked quietly.

“No bullshit, Sully.”

My feet were off the ground. One second I was leaning back against the glass, still stroking my hand slowly up and down his hard cock, and the next I was in his arms. He rushed to the bed, and I waited for the sensation of falling as he lowered me onto the mattress, but it never came. He tore at the sheets and the blanket that were on the bed, throwing them to the floor, and then he was tearing at my jeans, too, ripping them from my body. Dropping to his knees, he planted his hands firmly on my ass cheeks, and he buried his face between my legs, biting at the soft cotton material of my panties, groaning loudly. “Fuck, Lang! What the hell have you done to me?”

I was too stunned by the feel of his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh to stutter out a response. He pressed the flat of his tongue against me, pushing my legs open a little wider, and then he was hooking my panties out of the way with his index finger and he was licking me, tracing his tongue torturously slowly over my *, teasing at my clitoris, still groaning in that pained way that made me want to scream.

He pushed his fingers inside me as he licked, and my knees buckled out from underneath me. Sully laughed under his breath, guiding me so that I was lying on my back on the welter of sheets he’d just thrown into disarray on the floor.

“Does that feel good?” he asked softly. “Because it feels good to me. And it f*cking tastes good, too.”

“Shit, yes, it feels good.”

“Perfect.” He bent down between my legs again, pushing them wide open so he had better access to me. His mouth hovered less than an inch above my *. Looking up at me, eyes half closed, lips wet, he said, “Watch me, Lang. Watch me eat your *. Keep those eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see your face when you fall apart for me. I want to see your eyes roll back in your head when you come.”

I obeyed him without question. He flicked the very tip of his tongue over my clit, pumping his fingers inside me, and it was simply too much to bear. I rocked against his mouth, panting, barely conscious of what was happening anymore. I kept my eyes on him, watching him work his tongue over me, and before long I could feel it rising inside me—that tingling, prickly, delicious, demanding sensation that sank its claws into me, threatening to pull me under.