Five months later
Two hundred fifty-three pieces later
With his mouth fused to mine, Ryan pushed me back against the shower wall. Our hands clasped together, and he pinned them above my head before bending to my shoulder and scraping his teeth against my skin.
I gasped as he plunged into me.
He took my weight, and his left hand let go of mine to drop to my thigh. He gripped me there as he sank even deeper inside me.
God.
This guy.
Pleasure built and built low in my belly, and I used my free hand to hold on to him, sinking my fingers into his hair.
The shower beat down on us, but Ryan shielded me, taking most of the water. A slight mist coated my face, and as I drew in oxygen, I drank in some water too.
We had been together for almost a year. In forty-three days, it’d be the anniversary of Willow’s death—the same day I’d first crawled into Ryan’s bed. I’d gone through hell this last year, but he’d been with me the whole time.
I trailed my fingers down his back, feeling his muscles shifting as he thrust in and out, keeping a steady rhythm.
He bent forward, dropping his lips to my nipple and sucking.
I closed my eyes, feeling desire and the momentum building in me. I wanted him. I wanted him harder, deeper, and in the whole year, that hadn’t lessened. If anything, I craved him more and more. Like tonight—we were going to prom later, but I’d stepped into the shower, knowing I had to feel him before we endured a night of mere touches and the whisper of being together.
All eyes would be on us.
All eyes would be on him. He’d be voted prom king, which was no shock to anyone. There was a prom queen, and there were rumors it would be me, but I doubted that. I’d only moved there a year ago. It didn’t seem right, even though I was Ryan’s girlfriend. I wasn’t the most liked girl in the grade. But knowing everyone would be watching Ryan made me almost desperate to feel him first. I wanted to remind myself that he was mine, only mine. I wanted to feel him moving inside me, and I wanted to see him watching me the way he did when he took me at night.
I looked up to find him watching me once again.
His eyes were dark, heavy, primal.
Adjusting our bodies, he lifted me higher against the shower wall and began going harder. He was claiming me.
Pulling my hand free from his, I wrapped my arms around his neck, bending forward to kiss his throat.
He groaned, the sound rumbling deep, as his other hand found my hip. He slammed me against the tile, going harder and rougher.
I laid my head back, gasping in more breath as I tried to ride with him, but this was for him. He held me captive as he ground into me. An onslaught of pleasure assaulted me, and I sank into it. Hell, I felt half-drunk from this. All I could do was hold on to him until I felt my climax coming.
“Ryan,” I gasped. My fingers bit into his back, my nails scraping his skin. “I’m going to come.”
He slowed, grunting. “Not yet. Not.” Thrust. “Goddamn.” Thrust. “Yet.” Thrust, and then he tensed, his hands tightening on me to almost bruising pressure. “Now.” And he exploded.
I let go, the climax crashing into me, making my body jerk and shake.
He held me the whole time, waiting until both our bodies had calmed before carrying me out of the shower. My legs remained wrapped around his hips, and I clung tightly to him and rested my head on his shoulder.
He ran a soothing hand down my very wet back and took me into my bedroom.
“Fuck.” I sighed as he laid me down and then eased out of me.
He laughed, skimming a hand down my side before following the motion with his lips.
I ran my hand through his hair and then down his shoulders and arms as he moved back up, bracing himself above me. His eyes found mine, still so dark.
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Yes.” My hand cupped the side of his face. “I’m good. You?”
He nodded, falling down to kiss me again before settling onto the bed next to me. “Shit.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t want to go tonight.”
I laughed, curling on my side and kissing his shoulder. “Ship’s sailed on that one, Prom King.”
He groaned again, catching my hand and tugging me until I straddled him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I matched his grin, both of us still riding the wave we’d just created in the shower. I was naked, and as his eyes trailed down my body, I tipped my head back. My hair had grown longer over the last year. I didn’t have the heart to cut it. Willow always kept hers long, and I wanted it like hers tonight, though mine was darker. I felt the tips of it grazing my back, and it felt nice, but more than that, I enjoyed the feel of his eyes on me.
I knew, even before looking, that they’d be lust-filled, dark, carnal. As if on command, I felt him twitch under me again. He was growing hard, and unable to stop myself, I reached down for him.
“Holy shit, Mac.” A guttural moan ripped from him, and he tensed under my hand. His hands went to my hips, but he didn’t move me. I had him in the palm of my hand.
I began to rub him, making him even harder. “So if you’re named prom king, we both know another girl will probably be prom queen.”
He began to pant heavily as I stroked his length. “Can we talk about this some other time?”
“No.” I grinned, enjoying the power I had over him. I touched the tip of him, pausing there. “You’ll have to dance with this other girl.”
“Goddamn, Mac.” His chest rose up and down. His eyes were starting to go wild. “I’m going to get you back. You know that.”
I was hoping for it.
I kept sliding my hand over him. “And when you dance with this other girl, you aren’t going to like it.” I held him, squeezing just slightly. “Right?”
He was almost trembling, and he shook his head. “No. Hell no.” His fingers sank into me, flexing. “Keep fucking going.”
So I did, but this time, I scooted back and bent to take him in my mouth. His entire body paused, his hands in my hair. I could’ve kept going, but I didn’t want to torture him. At least not yet. I’d wait until after the dance, after Kirk’s after-prom party when we were alone again. Then I’d torture him all night long.
He didn’t wait long. Once my mouth settled over him and I began moving up and down, his hands fisted until he was ripping me away. He flipped me over, and grabbing my leg, he raised it over his upper arm and then slid inside, sheathing himself deep.
I sucked in a breath, letting the air out through my teeth at the sensations. Goddamn. That felt so good.
“Now you were saying?” He smirked at me, pushing deeper in before sliding out, only to go back in.
I sighed, letting the waves of torment roll in, and a half hour later, after he put on a condom, he had me whimpering and biting my lip to keep from screaming. Then my entire body went slack.
Afterward, he curled against my body and kissed my neck. “There’s no one else I want to dance with,” he whispered, his hand palming my breast. “It’s only you.” He kissed me again, his thumb grazing my nipple. “Only you, Mac.”
I already knew this. I’d known this all year, but it felt good to hear because I felt the same. There’d be no one else.
Closing my eyes, I murmured, “Good, because I love you.”
His arms tightened around me. “I love you too.”
Thirteen pieces just fit back together, all at the same time.