Wreck the Halls

Almost there.

The hand still clutching her ass applied more pressure, shoving her hips down to meet his upward drives. “I know it’s a long fall, but I’m going to catch you. Every time,” he said through his teeth. “Let go.”

That reminder of their unique trust turned out to be the push she needed and the results would be seared on his brain for the rest of his life. The way she bore down with her lower body and let out a muffled scream into his neck, her pussy shrinking up tight around his shaft and throbbing through an orgasm, her back, thighs, and belly shaking, every inch of their sweating bodies fused together. Colors that hadn’t been invented splashed on the backs of his eyelids, his mind in a state of total and complete nirvana over giving Melody pleasure.

But more. He needed more. He needed to consume her, so he wouldn’t have to live a minute of his life without feeling her presence in his fucking bones. Get deeper. Taking her mouth in a rough kiss, he flipped them over on the couch, using his shoulder to press her knees high, all the way to her shoulders and he lost it. He completely lost his mind.

I don’t have to pull out.

I don’t have to stop.

More than that, though, he couldn’t fathom doing either of those things. Who would want to leave the cradle of this perfect human’s body until they were forced to?

Not him. Never again.

Her bent legs were preventing him from kissing her, so he threw them over his shoulders, the cushion of her calves meeting the breadth of his back. He slung one arm beneath her hips to hold her steady and gripped the arm of the couch with the other, riding her in an aggressive way, encouraged by her kisses and moans, that he’d never associated with love, not until now. But then again, he’d never expected to be this deeply devoted to anyone. Never expected to find out what romantic devotion even meant.

For Beat and Melody, it meant trying to exchange souls through every eager kiss, every rough slam of his hips. For them it was a battle they both could win.

“I’ve never come inside of anyone,” he panted in between plunders of her mouth. “And I’ll never come inside of anyone else.” His lips raked over to her ear, his teeth closing around her lobe in a light snap. “I know that’s part of what’s making you so wet.”

“Fair is fair,” she hiccuped, reaching overhead to cling to the arm of the couch. Looking him in the eye. “You’re my only one, too.”

“Mel,” he choked out, his abdominals reaching peak strain. “Melody, I’m there.”

“I know, baby. You’re so big now.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, pinpricks of light appearing in his vision. Melody calling him “baby” drop-kicked him right over the edge. And he didn’t have a single second thought about pulling out. There was no option but joining himself completely with this woman.

His woman.

“Stay inside me,” she whispered, planting kisses on his jaw.

“I am. I will. No choice,” he said hoarsely, seeing nothing now. Only feeling. “A matter of survival. That’s what you are. Goddammit, it’s . . . oh fuck, it feels so good. Wrap your ankles around my neck. Oh shit, I’m coming inside of you.” The muscles of his back, neck, chest, and stomach pulled taut to the point he was positive they would snap until some kind of otherworldly bliss cut through him like a buzz saw, elevating his stomach to his mouth, his eyes lost in the back of his head. “Oh my God, Melody. Melody. It’s so fucking good.”

His body screamed at him with urgency after that first wave of undiluted pleasure and he drove into her frantically, trying to eradicate the rest, shouting her name as he fought through the raw ecstasy of release. Beat became someone else in those frenzied moments, someone with no filter or self-control, his teeth razing her neck, his hips bucking roughly, filth spewing from his mouth into her perfect, delicate ear.

“I will worship you every day,” he growled. “I will wreck you every chance I get. I want to live between these legs.” Then the filth turned into sap and he couldn’t control that, either. “You’re so beautiful, Peach. It hurts to look at you, but I can’t look anywhere else. I just want you naked and looking at me all the fucking time.” His lower body bore down. “Moan for me until the last drop. Do it. Please.”

“Beat . . . Beat . . .”

Some small part of him might have worried that he was going too far with those feverish words, but the nails digging into his buttocks, helping him rock and grind out that final wave, the kisses she continued to leave on his throat, his face, they told him she was matching him beat for beat. A perfect harmony. They were the greatest song ever written. And when he collapsed beside her and they locked together like two pieces from the same puzzle, one heart thundering against another, he planned on singing their song for the rest of his life.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





December 19



They woke up to the sound of the intercom buzzer going off.

Melody’s brain commanded her to open her eyes, but only one of them cooperated, revealing a blurry, off-balance world. Better to skip life today and resume tomorrow. Sleeping longer was the only option. This wasn’t normal sleeping, though. She didn’t usually wake up plastered to another human body, not a stitch of clothing between them.

She was spooning. With Beat. In her bedroom.

Her rear end was in his lap, her feet sandwiched between his calves, her head resting near his shoulder. His heart thunked steadily against her spine, his breathing even and beloved. His body was warm and welcoming, his angles corresponding perfectly to her curves. The fingers of their left hands were entwined in front of her on the mattress, his thick, lightly tanned digits braided together with her shorter, paler ones.

An enormous sense of rightness expanded in her rib cage until moisture pooled in Melody’s eyes. I’m in love. I am most definitely in love.

Last night felt like a dream.

After they’d been together on the couch, they’d hydrated, showered as a pair—laughing as pink paint circled the drain—and ended up stumbling wet from the bathroom onto her bed where they’d engaged in a very slippery, very soapy round two. Doggy style! She’d never imagined herself a down-on-all-fours kind of girl, but behold, Melody hath seen the light. She flushed to the roots of her hair now remembering the slap of Beat’s lap against her bottom, his fingers digging into her hips, fondling her breasts, his wild breath in her ear.

Now that I’ve come inside of you once, I’m addicted, he’d panted. I can’t stop.

Fine by her.

They would just stay in this bedroom forever. Watch nostalgic movies and order takeout and do it until the end of time. Nobody could stop them.

The buzzer went off again, longer and louder this time.

With a growing sense of trepidation, Melody unlaced her fingers from Beat’s and reached out to grab her phone off the side table—