Fear of Falling

down for the fly of his shorts, desperately needing to feel every part of him, inside and out. Blaine sat up a bit, giving me access to the buttons that sheathed his hardness. And once he was free, my eyes grew wide with delightful shock as I took in the sight of his beauty. Because, dammit, he was beautiful. Every long, hard, swollen inch of him.
    He settled between my thighs. “I’ll go slow,” he murmured against my lips as if he could feel my tension. Relief flooded my joints. Blaine was incredibly well-endowed. Hell, he was flat-out big. Bigger than I had ever had.
    The tip of him teased my slick entrance, slowly pushing through the barrier of tightness. Even through the slight pinch, I welcomed him inside me, my walls hugging him after adjusting to the intrusion. Blaine pulled out a bit before sliding in deeper, causing me to gasp at the foreign feeling of pure pleasure. I couldn’t focus on my insecurities. Fear was a distant memory. All I could focus on was the man cradling me, kissing me, as he filled me to the brim.
    Blaine worked himself into me, stroking me deep and slowly. I caressed his back and shoulders before taking his face in my hands to look at him. His expression was a mixture of strain and ecstasy as I gazed at him though glassy eyes. He felt so…good. So good that he had conjured emotions I had never felt before. Emotions that I wanted to feel everyday from here on out.
    I moaned and whispered his name while Blaine echoed my pleasure with sounds of his own. He was vocal as he rocked into me over and over, groaning, telling me I was beautiful, saying how good I felt, even growling as he sped up the tempo and pressure began to build. It was the sexiest thing I had ever experienced, and it heightened my arousal even more.
    Tears sprouted at my eyes when the telltale signs of orgasm began to sweep over me, tightening my belly before blooming into an inferno that scorched each nerve ending. I clenched around him, matching the pulsing of his hardness inside me. Blaine shut his eyes tight and hissed as he pounded into me harder, melding pain with the intense pleasure, pushing me into another devastating climax. My back arched off the bed, and Blaine grabbed my hips until only my shoulders and head remained grounded. He surged into me harder and faster still, my garbled screams meeting the sounds of his own building orgasm.
    Blaine’s body finally went rigid as he held still inside me. I pulled him down on top of me and wrapped my arms around his neck. I was spent, but I wasn’t ready to let him go. The feel of our wet arousal and sweat was slick between us, but I didn’t care. I wanted him close. I wanted to hold him like he had held me so many times. Like he was holding me now, kissing me, smiling down at me lazily.
    “You are amazing. So fucking amazing,” he whispered.
    “You’re not so bad yourself,” I grinned.
    He nuzzled my neck and nipped my skin, causing me to squeal-moan with him still twitching inside me. I squeezed him tight. I never wanted to let him go.
    Just as the glory of afterglow began to sweep over me, my tired eyes ghosted over his shoulder.
    The door.
    It was closed.
    But with Blaine on top of me, kissing my nipples, and working me back into a frenzy, I was too incredibly happy to even be afraid.

“I was seven when my mom and I left.”
    At hearing her confession, I reflexively squeezed Kami tighter, her soft, naked body curled around mine while she traced the ink on my torso and arm. I still couldn’t believe she was here. And even more than that, I couldn’t believe she had given herself to me after divulging the horror of her past. Hearing those words, seeing her tears, stirred an insane feeling of desperation inside me that I had never felt before. I was beyond outraged, but my need to comfort her outweighed my need to hunt down the sick fucker who hurt her. I knew at that point that I would do anything for her. I would risk my life to protect her, and give anything to ensure that she never felt that type of pain again.
    “My mom is from a very strict, traditional Filipino family. My…father…is American. He was a musician and met her at one of his concerts when she was just a teenager. My mother’s refusal to stop seeing him was a huge show of disrespect, and her parents kicked her out when she was only 16. He took her back to LA with him, and they were married within a year.”
    She stopped her account to kiss the inscription on my left pec, conjuring