Such was sex for me.

So experience hadn't exactly suggested it would be a fun way to spend what little time I obviously had left.

But that being said, Good Guy Glenn and Dickhead Danny were not Breaker. They had been man-boys. They had been guys with cocks and no idea how to use them.

Something told me that Breaker knew how to use his.

And my body responded to that.

It had never done that before.

Sex had been a weird detached sensation.

Certainly not hot.

Nothing like the fire I felt when Breaker's lips were on me.

And if he could manage that with just his lips, what could he do with the rest of him?

Maybe I owed it to myself to see.

With that, I folded my legs up under myself and moved until I was kneeling beside his body on the couch, my knees pressing against his thigh.

His eyes found mine a second before his hands went out, grabbing my hips, and pulling me roughly until I was straddling his waist.

I had the almost blinding realization that I was completely naked underneath his tee before his fingers pressed into my hipbone hollows, drawing a throaty groan out of my lips and making me forget all about unimportant things like panties.

My hands went to his chest, pressing down both to steady myself and to feel connected to him.

He was barely touching me and I could feel the pulsating desire between my thighs.

“You want more, you're gonna have to take it,” he said, making my body jerk back slightly. Take it? Take what? As if sensing my confusion, he added, “I ain't no slow and sweet lover, doll. I fuck hard and rough and you'll probably walk away from this with some bruises along with your memories. You accept that? You want that? Then you are gonna make the first move.”

Oh.

Well.

Okay then.

I was pretty sure I wanted that.

I had never needed to initiate before. Douchebag Danny had pounced on me. Shy, awkward Glenn had kinda just fumbled around until I responded. Sort of.

I was pretty sure I could initiate. I wasn't sure what kind of initiative he was expecting, but I slowly leaned forward, my hands pressing harder against his chest as they took some of my weight and pressed my lips to his.

Apparently, that was enough.

His hands slid from my hips, going around my lower back and completely flattening my body to his. Then one of his arms moved up my back, his hand grabbing the back of my neck hard as his head tilted and he deepened the kiss, his teeth snagging my lower lip hard and pulling. Unprepared, my hips jerked, rubbing against his, finding his cock straining hard against the material of his jeans.

Breaker's tongue slipped inside my mouth, repeating the same predatory mating dance it had the last time, promising things as well as demanding them. My hands moved up toward his shoulders, curling in, feeling like I needed to hold on. The arm around my lower back tightened and pushed down until I felt the exposed sensitivity of my sex brush against the rough material containing his cock. A surprised gasp escaped my lips and a growl burst from his, his mouth pulling from mine, his eyes holding mine as he pulled my hips across his hardness.

My hands curled into the skin on the sides of his neck, my mouth falling open on a huff of air.

His hand released the back of my neck, his fingers moving around to brush ever-so slightly over the skin near my collarbone, making a shiver course through my body.

“You're so sensitive,” he said, his voice even deeper than usual and it sent a shiver to somewhere he couldn't see but I could feel all too clearly. “Arms up, doll,” he instructed, both of his hands sliding down to settle at the hem of his tee that was inched up high on my thighs. My arms went up above my head and with no pretense, he whipped the material off my body, leaving me naked on top of him while he was still completely dressed. “Fuck me,” he said under his breath, his hands planting on the sides of my thighs while his eyes roamed over my body.

I had never had much cause to feel insecurity. Given that I spent almost all of my time alone, wearing whatever I wanted, foregoing makeup, barely bothering to run a brush through my hair some days, it never much occurred to me to feel much of anything about my body.

I knew most would feel self-consciousness in my position.

But Breaker's ice blue eyes raked over me like I was something of a wonder, something to be memorized, something he never wanted to forget.

So it didn't even occur to me to feel like I should hide that from him. Or even want to.

His hands slid up my thighs, over my hips, up my sides, then rested, spanning out on my rib cage, the bottoms of his thumbs brushing up against the undersides of my breasts.

His eyes went up to mine and held as his hands moved up and cupped my breasts, squeezing hard. My nipples hardened under his palms and my chest felt suddenly weighted, a heaviness there that I had never experienced before.

My brows drew together questioningly, but before he could even register the expression, he was moving. Knifing up from his position whilst slamming my back against the cushions of the couch and coming down on top of me, his lips taking possession of mine again.

My legs struggled underneath his, trying to break free. He brought a knee up between them, lifting some of his weight and I yanked my legs from under him and wrapped them around his back, pulling him down on me again. He made a grunting noise as his mouth lifted, running down the side of my neck, his beard burning across my skin as his teeth nipped into it.

And it was new.

Everything about what I was feeling was new. Foreign. But still somehow familiar. Like it had always been there, sleeping under the surface, waiting for someone to wake it up.

It was awake.

And it was consuming.

Like being on fire. That was what being with Breaker felt like... like I was burning, but blissfully sinking into the sensation, wanting to go deeper and deeper to see where I ended up, even if that meant in ashes.

Breaker's head tilted and moved down between my breasts, his beard tickling across my overly sensitive skin before his lips closed around my nipple and sucked hard. I arched off the couch, pushing myself further into his mouth, my hand slapping down on the back of his neck, holding him to me. Wanting, needing more.

His head pulled against my restraint but only to shift and take possession of my other nipple, sucking for a minute before nipping into it hard enough for me to yelp and jerk away.

To this, his head tilted to look up at me, a devilish smile playing at his lips.

He rested his weight on one of his forearms beside me, lifting slightly off my body to give him access. His head raised above mine, watching my face as his hand slid across my ribs, down my side, over my stomach. Then he paused, the smile coming back to his lips a split second before his hand flew between my thighs, stroking up my slick cleft.

My entire body jerked upward, my mouth opening to moan as my hand slapped down hard on his shoulder.

“Fuckin' drenched,” he growled, his finger sliding upward and finding my clit, circling it quickly.

No. Nothing had ever come close to this before.

This overwhelming sensation.

The feeling like I was going to explode and fall apart.

But not wanting to do anything but experience it.

My heart rate sped up. My pulse pounded hard in my throat and temples.

Then just as quickly as he touched me, he pulled his finger away, chuckling when I whimpered and ground my hips up toward him. He brought his hand up, taking his finger and slipping it into his mouth, tasting me.

I felt the blush heat my cheeks as I watched on helplessly, both embarrassed and too turned on to look away.