Page 57 of Where We Burn


Font Size:

“Raw,” I whisper, my voice shaking a little. “I want you just as you are.” The words are barely out of my mouth before he thrusts inside me. “How are you even…”

“Are you kidding? I needed to take the edge off because if I’d gotten inside you before I came, I would’ve blown in seconds.” He thrusts again, harder this time, dragging a broken moan out of me. “One look, Piper, that’s all it takes. One look from you and I could come like a fucking animal. Not ashamed to admit you wreck me.”

“You’re getting harder.”

“You feel that?” I nod, my mouth open as I try to fully process the moment. Try to absorb the feel of the man of my fucking dreams, buried to the hilt inside me.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, so soft I barely hear myself. But I need his mouth, his breath, the feel of his lips on mine.

He dips down, his tongue sliding against mine, and I can feel him wrestling back that feral side of himself just to give me this tender moment.

“Now please fucking move, Christian.”

His fingers tangle in my hair, and with one brutal stroke, he pulls out and slams home so hard I arch clean off the bed. He does it again and again—slow but devastating—hitting places inside me I didn’t know existed.

“Christian… it’s… fuck, it’s too much.” His pace turns punishing, like he’s trying to carve himself into my soul. “It’s… holy shit… I’m going to?—”

“Come for me,” he murmurs against my lips. “Be my good girl and get me off with that tight pussy.”

Yeah, he’s going to kill me with that mouth.

His words alone nearly finish me. But when his mouth latches onto my breast, hand still tangled in my hair, the sensation sends my orgasm ripping through me like wildfire.

I shatter completely, crying out his name as my nails sink into hisbiceps hard enough to leave marks he’ll wear for days. He doesn’t slow down. He just keeps fucking me through it until he drives in one final time, a guttural growl tearing out of him as he pulses inside me, his hips locked tight against mine.

My hand trembles as I reach for his jaw, memorizing the feel of him like I’m trying to etch it into my bones—just in case this is all I get.

“Don’t move,” he whispers, like I’m even capable of it right now. He turns to kiss my palm before claiming my mouth, keeping himself buried deep.

When he finally slides out, he spreads my thighs even wider. The way he looks at me, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watches himself drip from me—god, I’ve never felt more worshipped.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, his fingers tracing through his release, coating his fingertips before dragging them over my clit in slow, torturous circles.

My entire body is overstimulated, but I never want him to stop.

“Mine.” His eyes lock on the evidence of him still glistening on my skin. “You’re mine.”

I have no idea if he’s talking to me or my vagina at this point, but I don’t really care because both have just been thoroughly fucking owned by this man.

We’ve been talking for what must be an hour, wrapped up in conversation like we’re making up for lost time. It feels natural and effortless, as if we’ve slipped into something we were always meant to be. We jump from one topic to the next—work, favorite places, dreams we’ve never dared to speak out loud. And now, I’m grilling him about his brother Colton because, hello, total fangirl moment.

“So, what’s he really like? Because the interviews make him seem like this golden boy who can do no wrong, but no one’s that perfect.”

“I’m starting to get a little worried that you’ve got a thing for my baby brother.” His fingers trace lazy patterns on my hip, but there’s ahint of something possessive in his voice that makes my insides flutter.

“Definitely not.” I laugh, poking his chest. “But if you could score me tickets, I wouldn’t complain… God, what I’d give to hear him and Trace Montgomery sing ‘Heaven In Your Eyes’ live.”

“Is that your favorite song?” he asks, and I nod, all dreamy. “Noted.”

His chuckle rumbles through me, and we fall quiet as moonlight spills through the window, painting silver streaks across his skin.

“I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas already,” I say, and he presses a gentle kiss into my hair.

“Are you spending the holiday with your sister?”

“Yeah, we don’t have any family, so it’ll just be the two of us.”

“Travis mentioned you don’t see your parents.” I appreciate that he asks straight out; there’s no tiptoeing around the subject like he’s afraid I’ll break if he pushes too hard.