Chapter 10: The Light On

He filled me slowly, and neither of us breathed.

I had my palms flat on his chest.

Under them his heart was going hard enough to shake the narrow bed.

"Marcella," he said. "Marcella."

"I'm here."

"You're really here."

"Look at me," I said again, and he did, with the lamp full on his face.

He did not look away once.

I began to move.

It was nothing like the dark.

In the dark he had always held himself very still, and let it finish, and gone.

Now his hands were everywhere, spread over my hips, my back, the line of my spine.

Each time I rolled down onto him his mouth fell open.

"Slower," he said, and then, "No, don't."

"Which one?"

"Anything. Anything you want."

I laughed, breathless, and bent and bit the side of his neck.

He swore.

His hips came up to meet me and the bed frame knocked against the wall.

He rolled us over in one move.

I landed on my back with him above me, wet hair hanging in his eyes.

He caught both my wrists and pinned them to the pillow.

"Say if you want me to stop," he said.

"If you stop," I said, "I'll hurt you."

His mouth curved, helpless and surprised, and he kissed me.

Then he did not stop.

He drove into me deep and steady, and every stroke pulled a sound out of me I couldn't hold back.

I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He let go of my wrists and slid one hand under my hip and tilted me.

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