When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys 2)

“Okay?” I managed. “Holden…is this okay?”

He nodded, his abs cut in stark relief at the strain of taking me. “Don’t stop. God, River, please don’t stop.”

I pushed in deeper, the tightness around me unlike anything I’d ever known. Pulling at me, drawing me into him, until finally our hips met.

“Oh fuck,” I breathed, my forehead falling against his. I braced myself with both forearms now, holding myself still. Afraid if I moved, I’d break him. Or me. “Holden…?”

“So good,” he whispered brokenly into the dark, heated space between us where there existed no one but him and me. “God, you feel so good.”

I kissed him and slowly drew my hips back. A groan escaped me at the same time Holden hissed out a yes. The tightness gave just a little, enough that I pressed back in. Again. And again. A little faster now.

“Yes,” Holden managed, his sweaty forehead still pressed to mine, his hands gripping my arms. “Just like that.”

In and out, I moved in him, his body taking all of me and releasing me just enough, never letting go, until we found a rhythm. Sensations unlike anything I’d ever known wrapped around me with every movement. I lost contact with myself and became us, moving faster, taking us both higher.

I made fists in the sheets and pushed up, back arched, my hips now driving into him. Holden gripped my forearms, mindless words falling out of his mouth. Yes and more and my name. With a strangled sound, he took himself in hand. Only a few strokes and he came, his release spurting over his stomach, dripping over his fingers.

“Give it to me,” I breathed, shocked at the words coming out of my mouth. At the raw need that had my body in a feverish clench as I drove into him again and again.

Holden’s eyes flared. He brought his fingers to my mouth and pushed them inside. My eyes shut and I groaned at the salty taste of him on my tongue. My hips pounded against him, flesh slapping flesh.

“That’s it,” Holden coaxed, tracing his fingers over my lips. “Come, River. Come hard in me. Now.”

A strangled sound erupted from my throat as the ecstasy that had been building snapped, the fever breaking, releasing a flood of sensations—an orgasm that ripped from me into him. I gave him everything and he took it, his hands on my hips now, pulling me in tight and pushing me back, guiding me through every slow moment until there was nothing left.

I collapsed over him, and his arms went around me, clutching me tight.

“Holy shit,” I breathed into the crook of his neck. Safe, as the last ribbons of the orgasm shuddered through me. I sank into perfect bliss, into him. I could have slept for a million years, wrapped in him.

Holden’s hand found my hair at the back of my head and the soft sensation broke me out of my stupor. I jerked my head up and searched his eyes.

“Are you…? Are you okay?”

To my shock, Holden was blinking away tears.

“Perfect,” he said thickly and sniffed. “It was perfect, you bastard.”

A small laugh burst out of both of us. Carefully, I pulled out of him with a small grunt, and we lay for a few minutes more, his fingers tangling lazily in my hair.

I started to drift off to sleep, but in all the months we’d been together, I’d never spent the night. An unspoken rule of our arrangement. A futile effort to keep things casual.

I forced myself to leave the bed and went to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up, disposed of the condom, then ran warm water over a washcloth. I came back and Holden was lying on his side, watching me. I wiped the cloth over Holden’s skin, his penis, and gently drew it between his legs.

He closed his eyes, a pained expression drawing his brows in tight. As sure as I knew my own name, I knew no one had done this for him before.

Anger burned hot. I tossed the washcloth aside and curled up behind Holden, wrapped my arms around him, and drew him tight to me. His back to my chest, his hands locked in mine.

“You don’t have to be home?” he asked warily.

I tensed. “Not yet. Unless—?”

“Good.” He pressed himself closer to me and in moments, he was asleep.

I lay awake for a long time, feeling the rise and fall of his c

hest in my arms, his heart beating under my hand.

Mine…