The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(41)

He was a f*cking magician. Because never had anyone—woman or man—been able to suck me so deep.

I started to withdraw, but he gripped my bare ass and pulled me back down. His face was hidden between my legs, and I feared I was going to suffocate him, so I allowed his hands to guide my rhythm.

Resting my palms on his chest, I balanced myself and began drilling into his hot mouth. I stared down at Henry’s chiseled, naked body. He had been gorgeous before. But, with his mouth wide as I drove into it, he was unbelievable. Every so often, he gripped my ass, cueing me to switch to shallow glides in order for him to catch his breath. During those moments, he’d tease my head until he was ready again. The sensations were overwhelming, and combined with the visuals of his long, hard cock slapping his stomach with every thrust, I was already teetering on the edge of release.

I very easily could have bent over and sucked him off too, turning our seven into a sixty-nine. But that would have required me to give him a piece of myself. Allowing him the control over me that I refused to ever hand over again. And, given just how much Henry had already thrown me off-kilter, it wasn’t a risk I could afford to take. I’d broken nearly every rule I’d made to protect myself from situations like this. I couldn’t shred the only two I had left and take him inside me. No matter how much my mouth watered to taste him. To feel him in the back of my throat. To return to him the ecstasy he was freely giving me.

No. I couldn’t do that.

Thrust after thrust, his fingers bit into my ass cheeks, forcing me closer and closer to the release.

But what about him? There was no way he was getting off on this. Enjoying it, no doubt. But an orgasm was not about to rip from his body, leaving him limp and sated in its wake.

Unless…

Sucking in a breath, I decided bending wasn’t breaking. I wasn’t taking him inside me, offering pieces I no longer had to give. I was simply being a decent…. Friend? Fuck buddy? Groupie? Employee?

I groaned at my ludicrous—but accurate—thoughts. Labels had no place in this. I was about to explode in his mouth for the second time; the least I could do is take him with me.

Folding over, I balanced on a fist at his hip. “I’m not going to last much longer,” I grunted. “I need you to be fast, Henry.”

I heard his sharp intake of breath as I wrapped my palm around the base of his shaft. He was so long, more than half still showed from the top of my fist. My mouth fell open as I glided him through my fingers. I could have come from that alone. But, when his abs tensed, magnifying the sexy V that indented at his hips as he lifted from the bed, seeking more attention, I realized I wanted to watch him lose himself under my touch more than I ever wanted to come.

“Stop,” I ordered. “Let me do this.”

His only response was to take my cock in a relentless rhythm.

“Shit. Fuck. Oh my…” I repeated for the third time since he had shown up at my door. “Slow down.”

Henry hummed his refusal and worked me even harder. I pumped him voraciously, unwilling to come without him but unable to hold on much longer.

He stopped sucking more than once, unable to concentrate when the sensations overwhelmed him. Other times, I was the one frozen, trying to fight release back.

Eventually, his mouth won out and I emptied myself down his throat on a deep groan. The tremors were still working through me when he found his, white streams painting his stomach. The last spurt didn’t clear his cock, and it trickled down his plump, pink crown.

There was absolutely no way to explain why I did it.

None.

Temporary insanity, maybe?

Orgasm-induced intoxication, perhaps?

Or maybe it was due to the sheer magnetism of the man lying beneath me.

But, regardless of the reason, I leaned forward and, with one swipe, licked him clean. The musky flavor exploded on my taste buds. Henry.

Closing my eyes, I allowed the familiar yet completely unique taste to wash over me. We’d only been together twice, but the ground was shaking and my decade-old walls were starting to crumble. I could lose myself trying to rebuild them while the super storm known as Henry Alexander ominously hovered over me. Or I could sit back, relax, and enjoy the thunder. Even the strongest hurricanes had to die out eventually. Maybe Henry was mine.

Or, more likely, he’d be the earthquake that was going to break me down before swallowing me whole.

Either way, I wasn’t going to be left standing. I just had to decide how long I wanted to fight.





FOR AS AMAZING as it had felt when Evan’s tongue had sneakily laved my tip, what had come after that was even better. As soon as we’d both cleaned up, he’d collapsed beside me in the bed and we’d spent the next two hours bullshitting and laughing. We weren’t exactly cuddling or really even touching, but I could live with that because there wasn’t a spiral down anywhere in sight.

He was incredible.

Once I’d broken through his stoic exterior, he was actually really funny. My cheeks hurt from laughing. We didn’t get deep or talk about the greater meaning of the universe. We mainly just swapped stories about our friends. I told him about Levee and Sam. And he told me about his buddy Scott. I told him how my days usually went when I was on tour, and he told me how he’d been struggling to find a job after he’d gotten out of the Air Force. I did my best not to stare at him in awe as he spoke. I had a feeling I was failing miserably though, because every time his gaze met mine, his lip twitched in my favorite way.