Inevitable Detour (Inevitability Book 1)(47)

He sighs. His gaze is raw, and I know he can’t hold off any longer.

And then it finally happens. Farren shifts his hips and fills me. And nothing has ever felt so right.

He doesn’t move. No one does. He leans his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. And maybe Farren doesn’t come with promises, but I do. I belong to him. Whether it was intentional or not, he’s molded me to be his and his alone.

We breathe together, joined as one. And then he begins to move…just a slow in and out. He’s still molding me, just in a different way. He’s teaching me what to expect from him. He picks up the pace at some points, goes slow at others. He shifts me this way and that, drives into me from various angles. He’s trying me out. And as I learn how Farren likes to f*ck, I respond to him accordingly.

Wrapping my legs around him tightly, I dig my nails into his back. “You feel so f*cking good, Essalin,” he tells me.

I want to tell him he feels amazing, too, but hell if I can talk. It’s just moans and incoherent sweet nothings that escape my mouth. That is, when Farren’s mouth isn’t on mine, kissing me insistently, making me accept his tongue as willingly as I accept his cock. And accept it, I do. Farren f*cks like the alpha he is. He’s amazing, and before long I’m at the threshold of unparalleled ecstasy.

When he feels me tensing, he quickens the pace. “Let go, Essa,” he commands.

His words push me over the edge. I close my eyes and grip his shoulders as I come and come. He pumps into me, a final succession of hard thrusts that don’t stop until he empties into me. He knows I’m on the pill, and we both know we’re clean, so I revel in the fact that even when he withdraws, he’s still in me in some way.

Farren gets up to go to the bathroom, and I watch, in awe that his amazing body was just on me, in me.

He returns with a warm washcloth and starts to clean me up. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asks.

He appears concerned, so I make sure to respond in a cheerful, satisfied voice. “Are you kidding? I feel great.”

He chuckles, kisses me lightly, then continues to dote on me. I stretch languorously as he finishes with his gentle ministrations with the washcloth. He eyes my body lustily, and when I look down I see he’s starting to get hard again. It makes me feel good that I can turn him on so quickly after he’s just climaxed.

I pull my knees up, and he places a hand on one. “Want to do it again?” I ask, brow rising.

With a suppressed smile, Farren spreads my legs and climbs in between. “Essalin.” He says. “What have I created?”

While he’s smoothing away hair from my face, I say to him, “You’ve created someone who wants you again, and again, all the time, a lot—”

He silences me with his mouth and gives me what I want—him.





The plan is to leave bright and early so we can meet up with Rick and Haven in Albuquerque by noon. But then Farren gets word that there’s been a delay.

“The doctor couldn’t be reached until yesterday evening,” he explains.

We’re in the little café attached to the side of the store across the street from the motel, the one where I bought the tequila.

“He’s seeing Haven today,” Farren continues. “Once we get the all clear for her to travel, Rick will notify us.”

I haven’t spoken to Haven, but I suspect Farren has, so I set down my fork—I’ve barely touched my pancakes anyway—and ask, “Have you talked to Haven?”

He lifts his coffee to his lips and murmurs from behind the ceramic cup, “Yeah, I talked to her briefly, once.”

While Farren sips his cup of joe, I ask if I can talk to her.

“Essa,” he responds with a sigh as he lowers his cup to the table. “Even the burner phones aren’t one hundred percent secure. They can be tapped into and traced. I think it’s best if we wait.” He offers a stunning smile, one surely meant to placate me. “You’ll see her soon enough.”

I’m placated, for now, but I still have another question. “Are we still heading to Albuquerque today to wait for Rick and Haven there?”

“No,” Farren replies, “we’re staying here until I get word that they’re heading up there.”

“I’m fine with staying here,” I say quietly.

I’m speaking more to myself than to Farren. And it’s the truth. I like this little piece of serenity out in the middle of nowhere. I like our tiny motel room, where we laughed and loved last night. I liked how afterward the neon glow from the motel sign kept the night illuminated, even when all the lights were out. Farren’s body was cast in shades of blue as I watched him sleep. He appeared as contented as I felt.

I sigh now, and Farren looks over at me across the table. “What are you thinking about, Essa.” He smiles coyly. He knows.

But I still reply. “I was thinking about last night.”

He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “It was pretty amazing,” he murmurs.

“It was,” I agree.

After our moment has passed, we finish our breakfast and head back across the street to the motel. Much later in the day, we hear from Rick. The doctor, though, we discover has advised Haven not to travel for another day or two. Rick informs Farren that his sister is suffering from a respiratory infection—the result of having been kept locked up in “cold, damp” places.