He doesn’t move a muscle, his gaze drilled to the dashboard.
“Look at me,” I command, angling his chin forward and robbing him of a choice. He winces at the eye contact. “Read my lips. I’m. Not. Fucking. Leaving.”
I can see him fighting it. Fighting us. Swimming against the current of not one, but a thousand seas, facing a tidal wave he knows will kill him, but he’d rather it be him…
Than me.
“I’m going to ruin you, Kass.”
“Then ruin me.”
The second my lips descend upon his, he surrenders himself over, kissing me so hard I stagger backward. He holds me in position, his arm knotting around my waist. He kisses me like I’m his last wish and he’s a dying man. His lips taste like all that is bright and warm in the world.
But… they also taste like all that is dark and cold.
He’s falling apart.
I can’t stomach seeing him like this.
How long has he been denying himself anything real? How many good things has he pulled the plug on in fear of life screwing him over? All I know is I can’t take another minute of that look in his eyes. So, I do the only thing I can think of to chase it away.
I unbuckle his belt.
His breath jumps when I tug his jeans down with frantic, clumsy hands.
“Baby, wait, we don’t… We don’t have to do this,” he rasps, the lust in his voice dismantling his credibility.
He wants this.
I want this.
He just needs to let me give it to him. I sneak a hand inside his briefs and free him. He pops out between us.
Straining.
Thick.
Hard.
He opens his mouth to argue, and I shut him up with a slow, longing kiss, fumbling with the hem of his T-shirt and jerking it over his head. I pull back to drink in his ridiculously defined body, running my fingertips along the cut of his pecs, his abs, and finally, bunching the summer dress I wore to impress his mother up my thighs. His eyes flare as I wiggle my panties down my legs, tracking the movement with eager attention.
I grip his length.
He groans.
“Kass, did you hear me?”
I love that he’s trying to be a gentleman. To clarify that this wasn’t his end goal. And when I dig through the glove compartment of his car for protection, there’s not a single doubt in my mind. He didn’t think this would happen, hence his forgetting to refill his stash.
There’s nothing.
Not one condom.
Our eyes link up, the situation’s high stakes dawning on us.
I’ve never gone bareback with anyone in my life. And in that moment, when I look up at the damaged, blue-eyed boy in the driver’s seat, I can’t think of a better person to do this with. But there are other factors to take into consideration.
“I’m clean. Just got checked.” He reads my mind.
“Me too.”
“You’re on the pill, right?”
I nod.
That short conversation is the green light we needed. I crash our lips together, fisting my hand up and down his shaft, working him quick and hard. He heaves a curse as I guide his tip to my entrance. Only then does he seem to realize what we’re about to do. His eyes fly open.
“Kass…”
It’s one word. But it holds so much meaning. I read between the lines. Hear him loud and clear. He’s telling me this is my last chance.
My last out.
He’s saying, If you don’t run now, I’m never letting you go. I cup his face, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
“I’m here.” I tell him the same thing he once said to me, stifling a shaky plea. “Let me be here.”
Then I sink down his length.
Inch by inch, I take him.
Until he’s balls-deep inside me.
Bare.
For the first time.
A grunt resonates from somewhere deep within his throat, and his hands dart to my waist. Mine grip his shoulders. I hoist myself up, then slide down, creating perfect friction.
I do it again.
And again.
Will draws me in for a long kiss.
“Fuck, this feels…” He almost sounds in pain.
“I know,” I croak against his mouth.
He brings me down onto his lap roughly, intensifying my moans and jerking my dress out of the way to watch as he fills me. I slip my fingers into his hair, picking up the pace with every heart-wrenching second. The sensation is so intense, so strong, it’s almost… too much. I’ve never been this emotional during sex, and based on Will’s bloodshot eyes, I’d say the feeling’s mutual. He tugs at my dress, obviously annoyed that I’m wearing so much clothes, and yanks the fabric down my chest until my breasts break free, jiggling along to his wild thrusting. He devours my skin, his tongue teasing, swirling around my nipples. I can’t help clenching around him, needing more.
“If the World Was Ending” by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels plays on the radio, our hearts beating along to the chorus. He releases my nipples, his hand banding around the back of my neck for a hungry, breathtaking kiss. Our eyes meet, my lips dipping open when his hips press into me, pumping deeper. He nudges a loose strand of my blonde hair behind my ear.
“Will.” I can’t suppress a breathy moan.
It’s like a click.
Like I just gave him his heart’s version of an insurance policy. Like he needed me to go through hell with him, see his demons up close and still come out the other side before he could say it.
“Fuck, I love you,” he chokes out.
My lungs feel constricted.
My heart squashed into a fist.
“I love you, Kass. So much. Too much,” he repeats.
Someone tell that thing in my chest to calm down. Tears soak my cheeks, streaming down my face.
“I love you.” I kiss him with salty lips.
Our lips join with each thrust.
Somehow, I know these three little words just destroyed one of the last walls standing between us. And when we both find our release, I dare hope
