After the Fall

shudder resonated right through me.
    “Fuck,” he whispered again, and nudged me away from his neck and searched for my mouth. He kissed me and ground his hips harder against mine.
    As I was struggling to find the words to tell him we should get some of these clothes off, he broke the kiss and sat up over me, and as I held my breath and watched, he pulled off his shirt.
    Jesus fuck, he was fit. He wasn’t one of those gym rats whose tendons and muscle fibers were visible from space, but his biceps and his forearms were noticeably defined, especially where the tattoo’s lines and curves emphasized the contour of his muscle. His abs were smooth, flat, with subtle grooves highlighting the very beginnings of a six-pack.
    I ran my hand up the center of his abs, up to the thin fan of dark hair on this chest. “It should be illegal for you to wear a shirt. Just so you know.”
    He laughed softly, his cheeks coloring. How a man that gorgeous could be that shy, I had no idea, but he wore the shyness as well as he wore ink and those faded jeans that needed to come off right now .
    Obviously we were on a similar wavelength, because as he came down to kiss me again, he started unzipping my shorts.
    The casts eliminated any possibility of removing my shorts and boxers—or any of my clothing, for that matter—in a graceful or remotely sexy manner, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind. Between us, we stripped off the rest of his clothes and mine, and my God, he was as gorgeous below the now-absent belt as he was above it. Powerful legs, narrow hips, and a very hard cock that was exactly the way I liked it: long, thick, without reaching terrifying porn star proportions.
    With nothing else between us, he lowered himself on top of me, and we both shuddered when his cock pressed against mine again. He came down all the way, his body sinking onto mine, abs and chest meeting one warm inch at a time, and I wrapped my arms around him, not giving a damn about the awkward weight of the plaster on my right one.
    “Arms getting tired yet?” I asked.
    “Nope. I could do this all night.”
    “Good.”
    He kissed me lightly, then started down my neck. My mouth formed toneless curses as he inched down the side of my throat and past my collarbone. His lips were soft against my chest. He made his way to my nipple, and his eyes flicked up to meet mine as he gently bit it. I moaned and let my head fall back onto the pillow, arching my spine off the bed to press my body against his, and he slid his hands under my back. He headed lower, taking his sweet time and teasing my abs with his light kisses. I could almost imagine that sensual, talented mouth on my dick, and I was already desperate to return the favor before he’d even gone down on me.
    He continued toward my hip, and then farther, and I nearly levitated off the bed as his lips slid over my cock. I dug my teeth into my lower lip and gripped his hair. His lips and tongue were going to drive me insane, I just knew it, and if I could have moved at all I’d have thrust upward, fucked into that amazing mouth.
    I wanted him. Holy fuck, I wanted him. I wanted to know how much power he had in that gorgeous, toned body, and I wanted him fucking me until we both came.
    But right alongside that desire was something else. Something I’d never felt in a moment like this. It was like an inkling of panic that hadn’t quite broken open yet. That sense that nothing had happened yet, but it would , I was sure of it. I had no reason to distrust Ryan, and I wouldn’t have been in his bedroom if I did. Still, a vision flickered through my mind of being pinned down, immobile, unable to fight back effectively. Of being fucked at someone else’s whim. What if he was too rough and he hurt me? What if I wanted to stop?
    Then the panic broke: I couldn’t move. Not fast and not far, no matter how much I wanted to or how badly I needed to get away.
    Ryan raised his head. “Something wrong?”
    He’d caught on, so he was in tune with me. To my responses. I could trust him, right? What was I so worried about? This was ridiculous. He’d back off at the first sign of distress, like he was doing right now.
    But my heart wouldn’t slow down.
    “What?” Ryan moved up closer to me and touched my face, furrowing his brow. “You okay?”
    I took a few deep breaths, willing my heart rate to come back down. This was stupid. What was the matter with me? I tried to shift, as if I could subtly shake away some of this