My head shifts forward on the pillow, and my lips press against his. The salty taste of tears lingers at the corner of my mouth, but it’s better than the taste of blood, and it’s tempered by the dark cherry and oak scent of him.
Theo reacts to my kiss immediately. His body doesn’t go stiff, exactly, but I can feel each of his muscles responding, coming alive under my touch. His lips move against mine, soft and unhurried, and his hand slides around to my lower back to pull me a little closer to him.
Our first kiss, in the alley the night Marcus beat the shit out of Greg, was hot and overwhelming, something that built from zero to one hundred so fast it almost scared me.
This kiss isn’t like that.
It builds slowly, achingly slowly, starting with little brushes of our lips and gentle swipes of our tongues, with breath shared in the space between us.
It’s… gentle.
This is the most gently I’ve ever been kissed, and it’s everything I need right now.
Theo rises up onto one elbow, rolling me onto my back and draping his upper body over mine as his tongue licks the seam of my lips. He pulls my lower lip between his, then releases it to pepper soft kisses to my cheeks, across the bridge of my nose, and along my jaw line.
I know he’s tasting salty tears just like I did earlier, and I get the strangest feeling that he’s trying to kiss the remnants of each teardrop from my skin.
With a soft noise, I turn my head and capture his lips again, sliding my tongue into his mouth as our kiss deepens.
It’s like we’re drawing the pain out of each other, exchanging pieces of our heartbreak through the connection between us, and although it doesn’t lessen the hurt, it diffuses it somehow, making it a little more bearable.
The slow, steady build of heat between us begins to burn hotter, and my chest rises and falls as I try to catch my breath. Theo breaks the kiss to glide his lips down the column of my throat, and my stomach clenches as my clit throbs. I roll us again, pressing him onto his back and draping my body over his, my legs straddling his lean hips.
Sometime in the middle of the night, he must’ve kicked off his pants to get more comfortable, and I can feel the growing shape of his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs and my sleep pants. Resting my chest against his, I brace my hand on the mattress, my dark hair falling around my face like a curtain as I kiss him like I might never stop.
Honestly, in this moment, I don’t want to.
I want to keep rocking against him, tasting him, breathing him in. Stoking the slow-burning fire that flickers between us.
I want him to know that I’m still here. That he’s still here.
That we still have each other, and that we’ll get through this somehow.
He’s fully hard now, his cock throbbing between us, hitting the perfect spot on my clit each time I roll my hips against him and drawing little gasps of pleasure from me.
The room is quiet, our sounds muffled and soft. Small.
But what’s happening between us doesn’t feel small. It feels big. It feels meaningful, and I remember what Theo told me about being closer than brothers with Marcus and Ryland.
They chose each other.
And I choose them.
Theo’s fingers dig into my hips, some of the gentleness of the kiss fading as need flares between us like a physical force. He holds me tightly, guiding my movements as his hips thrust up against me—slow at first, then harder and faster, hitting my clit with each thrust.
I whimper into his mouth, breaking the connection of our lips to press my forehead against his, our noses practically touching as our gazes lock. His face is so close to mine that I can barely focus on him, but somehow I feel like I can see all of him.
I can see the way his mouth drops open slightly, his lips tight with effort as his sharp breaths collide with my own. I can see the way his eyes churn like a stormy sea as he pauses his strokes, grinding his clothed cock against my pussy as his grip on me shifts slightly, his palms sliding lower to grab handfuls of my ass.
My toes curl and my breath catches as I grind down on him too, using the thick length of him to chase the pleasure building in my core. We’re hardly moving anymore—just small, intense pulses as we hover on the precipice, rubbing against each other as if we’re trying to fuse our bodies together.
“Fuck, Rose.”
The words are a shuddering, whispered groan. Theo lifts his head off the mattress, finding my lips with his again as his whole body goes rigid. He thrusts his hips hard, and the pleasure rising up inside me reaches its peak, sending me tumbling over the other side.
I writhe against him, breath coming in choppy gasps, and as the orgasm cascades through me, I feel the warm, wet heat of his release. His cum spurts into his boxer briefs, soaking into my pajama bottoms as his cock pulses again and again, spilling every last drop.
My arm gives out, and I collapse on top of him, my face buried in the crook of his neck.
We’re both breathing hard, our chests pressing tighter together with each of our inhales. His skin is warm, flushed with arousal, and he wraps his arms around me, hugging me against him.
His cum is a sticky mess between us, but he doesn’t let go of me. He doesn’t roll me off of him and slide out of bed to get cleaned up. He just holds me.
And when I start to cry again, slow tears that seep from my eyes like molasses, he presses a kiss to my temple, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair.
Chapter 6
I fall
