Chasing Crazy - Kelly Siskind Page 0,76

between us.”

“Sam, did you miss the part where I said I want you in me. Like now. Fuck the condom.” Desperate me is bossy.

I don’t know if it’s the swearing or the realization of what we’re about to do, but he crawls toward me, hunger on his face. He nudges my legs with his and places himself exactly where I want him, his hand gliding up and down his shaft. His tip comes to rest at my opening, but he stills and whispers hoarsely, “You have no idea.”

They’re the same cryptic words he spoke the last time the two of us were in a tent. “Then show me,” I say.

He does. He pushes. In. In. In. Gentle but steady, stretching me until I have to adjust, my knees falling wider, the pressure turning delicious. He groans and drops his head. He’s big, thick, almost to the hilt, filling me completely. With one quick thrust, our hips are flush.

“God, yes,” escapes my mouth, followed by a guttural sound.

I jerk upward, but he’s ready. He pushes up slightly. “Okay?” he asks.

Sublime. Spiritual. Transcendental. “Perfect.”

I clench around him and contract as I tilt my hips. He pulls out, dragging slowly, and thrusts back in. Harder.

“Fuck, Nina.” He grunts, the sound vibrating in my chest.

I don’t panic. I don’t hold back. I live in the moment, letting every fantasy I’ve ever had fuel my rhythm. Our rhythm. He rolls his hips into mine, working me into a frenzy of white-hot lust and hormonal chaos that has my vision blurring. “Sam,” I cry, and he devours me.

I claw his ass to pull him deeper as I arch and moan, my teeth marking his neck and shoulders. His body writhes over mine. We grope and suck and shudder, neither of us able to hold still in the slightest. Frantic. Needy. Deeper. More. We’re wild together, beyond what I ever pictured. Each long drag coils my already wound body tighter.

“I’m close,” he grounds out.

“Yes, yes,” I say. White-hot fire burns through me, building. I fist his hair, curls tangling through my fingers, and he spreads me wider. So good. So, so good. Tension coils low in my belly, searching for release.

I latch my legs around his waist. He practically crushes me as he drops lower, his tongue invading my mouth. When I don’t think I’ll survive the heat searing my belly, a tear slides down my cheek, the raw emotion gathering too much. With it, a wave of pleasure consumes me, intense and mind-blowing. Sam takes me to the moon. Stars flashing, head spinning. Convulsions rack my body.

This is surrender. This is joy. This is Sam and me.

Clenching around him, I call, “Sam. Sam. Sam.”

He pumps faster, his release spilling into me. He shouts, “God. Fuck. Nina,” and a string of words in short gasps. His lips fall against mine, kissing me with more passion than before, pressing his weight fully onto me until it’s hard to breathe.

I’d stay here forever if I could. In my Neverland. The place where Sam and I don’t have to grow up. Where we’re free from the life-altering decisions that could keep us apart. He pulls back, and I whimper, still wanting those lips. “That was…” I shake my head. There are no words.

He exhales and says, “You have no idea.” But I think I finally do.

He opens his mouth again as if to speak, but closes it. There’s something different in his gaze. His brow puckers with what looks like…fear? My cheeks are still damp from the few tears I’ve shed. Tears of joy. Love.

His brown eyes shine with wetness, too. “I’ve never…” he starts but stops. His lids drift shut, and he rolls his hips. “Shit. I’m already hard again.”

I’m languid. Loose. Leaden. Spent. Entirely satisfied. But with that one move, want spikes through me. He swallows and opens his eyes, that fear still present. I want to tell him I love him but can’t seem to form the words. Something’s gathering behind his stormy gaze, keeping me quiet. Instead of speaking, I tilt my hips to allow him more access, and he moves deeper, but stills, breathing hard. I’ve seen every emotion cross his handsome face these past weeks, from sad to serious, ecstatic to mischievous. But I’ve never seen him look so—conflicted. Desperate.

“Sam…are you okay?”

His breaths swell deeper, his lips part, but he doesn’t answer. He blinks, and a tear falls from his brimming eyes. I brush it away with my thumb and he exhales, pressing his