More of You (Confessions of the Heart 1)

I pulled back so I could look at his face. “What you’ve always, always done to me.”

He angled up, kicking his pants the rest of the way free. That was right as a rasp of a sound was leaving me at the sight of him.

The man so hard and big as he strained from the chair.

“What is it I’ve always done to you?” It was a grated challenge from his mouth.

Maybe he wanted a confession.

Proof.

My hand was shaking like crazy when I wrapped it around the velvet flesh. Then I added the other. I gave a firm squeeze, and my tongue darted out to wet my parched lips. “Make me want things that I shouldn’t have. More of you.”

Always, always, more of you.

Copper eyes glinted.

Fire.

Flames lapping at my soul.

“Who says you shouldn’t have them?”

I almost laughed. It would have been maniacal, frenzied, a mirror to the way this boy made me feel. The way he’d always made me let go. Forget every worry and reservation.

I stroked the long, hard length of him.

A shiver rippled across his golden flesh.

Oh goodness, was the man beautiful like this.

Bare and ready for me.

And I knew I had to be delirious.

Because I was taking him in my mouth. My lips stretched around the hard mass of him.

So big.

Too much.

Everything. Everything.

I wanted to possess him the way he possessed me, and he growled out a sound that shot straight to my core when I licked at the underside of him.

“Fuck . . . Faith . . . you feel so good. So damned good. No one . . . no one has ever made me feel like this. No one. Not ever.”

I couldn’t stop them, the tears that sprang to my eyes as I began to suck him. As I opened myself up to him. Taking him deeper and deeper.

I’d wanted to possess him.

But it was Jace Jacobs who was possessin’ me. Filling my mouth with the measured surges of his cock.

Filling my mind.

Filling my heart.

My knees dug into the floor, and he twisted his hands tighter into my hair, the man rocking harder, deeper, taking more.

Taking all of me.

And I wanted to give it.

But I was so scared. So scared of fully lettin’ go.

Only, sometimes, we didn’t even realize we’d tripped before we were in a free fall.

Unstoppable.

The ground gone.

Ripped right out from under our feet.

I was just terrified of where we would land.

“Fuck . . . Faith . . . baby. That mouth. You have the sweetest mouth. Take it, Faith. Take me.”

He started cursing, barely sitting in the chair, wedging deeper and deeper into my mouth, hitting my throat, desperate for more.

More.

More.

More.

I let go of the chains that were holding me back, and my hands moved to either side of him on the chair. Holding on to it before I floated away.

He was holding on to it, too, the other hand on the table as he jutted and rocked, as if it was the only thing that was keeping us grounded.

Then those hands were back in my hair, tugging hard as he pressed himself as far as he could into me, my jaw sore and burning from the force of him.

And still, I relished every second.

His cock jerking.

His pleasure given to me.

He roared. A prayer he offered to me. His come in my mouth and my name on his tongue.

For a second, I owned it.

Relished it.

This boy I hadn’t been able to keep.

Panic climbed into my chest.

I couldn’t lose him again.

I couldn’t.

I’d never, ever survive.

I realized my eyes were pinned shut when he eased out of me, and I only squeezed them tighter when I felt his hands on my face, tipping it up so he could take me in.

“Faith, sweetheart.” His voice had gone soft, and his thumbs were brushing my cheeks, gathering the moisture I hadn’t realized soaked my skin in hot, terrified streaks.

“Don’t cry. Fuck. Please, don’t cry.”

Oh, I was a mess. Such a mess. But I didn’t want to hide from it anymore.

So, I let him wrap me in his arms.

Let him hold me while I wept.

The problem was, I didn’t even know what I was weeping for.

The future or the past.

Or maybe it was for what had come in between.

Because I felt another piece of its hold break away.

Like all of those memories had gone into a free fall with the rest.

Jace sighed into my hair. “I’ve got you.”

The scariest part of that was I’d never felt so whole.

Twenty-Nine

Faith

Seventeen Years Old

Faith gulped around her nerves, around her fear and trepidation and what threatened to be a broken heart as she stood at the end of the lane.

“Stop being a coward,” she scolded herself under her breath, forcing her feet to keep moving down the road that was little more than a path carved out by tires with a bunch of weeds growing up the middle.