Page 43 of Craving the Edge

A powerful cry tore from his throat as my body pulsed around him one last time. He buried himself as deep as he could go, his hips locking against mine. His whole body went rigid, his arms shaking with the effort of holding his own weight. His climax hit him hard, a long, shuddering tremor that ripped through his body, each pulse dragging a ragged sound from his lips.

He stayed buried inside me, his head dropping to my shoulder, his breath hot against my neck. His arms began to tremble, then he collapsed, landing beside me on the mattress. He rolled onto his back, pulling me with him, our ragged breaths tearing through the dark.

I was boneless, shuddering in the aftershocks as his hand stroked over me, teasing my sensitive breasts, sliding down between my legs, teasing my clit. I did the same, reaching for his cock, which still felt hard as he flexed into my palm. Soft and powerful. Perfect.

I pressed my ear flat against his chest, listening to the frantic beat of his heart slow. His skin was warm, slick with a thin sheen of sweat that cooled in the dark room.

His fingers trailed lazy, idle patterns up and down my spine. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to get you in this bed. I’ve been thinking about it since the day you shoved that towel at me and wouldn’t look me in the eye.”

A breathless laugh escaped me, the sound muffled against his skin. My own hand felt brave, palming his cock and tracing a line up across his stomach to the surgical scar on his right shoulder. “I’ve never… Not like that. Not even close.”

“Good,” he growled, sounding smug and satisfied. He shifted, pulling me tighter until my leg was hooked over his thigh and there was no space left between us. “Because I plan on doing it again…and again.”

My body still hummed, a low thrum of pleasure that made my skin feel entirely too sensitive. Every place his fingers grazed, every point our bodies connected, sent a fresh jolt through my system. I let myself sink into it, into him as he kissed me again, deep and slow, his tongue claiming me as thoroughly as his cock had.

He went quiet then, his breathing starting to even out and slow against my chest. I watched the stupid, satisfied smile settling onto his face as he drifted toward sleep, and a familiar script started playing in my head. Get up. Get dressed. Walk away before this gets messy. Leave before he can abandon you. It was safer that way…

But I didn’t move.

His arm tightened around my waist, an unconscious act that pulled me closer until I was flush against his side. The city lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows painted silver and orange stripes across the quilt, the dark room cocooning us from the world outside.

I could’ve disentangled myself. I could’ve slipped out of his bed, gathered my clothes from the floor, and been gone before he even stirred. He’d wake up alone and it would be simpler for everyone.

Instead, I watched him.

The hard lines of his face softened in the dim light. The tension he always carried in his body was gone, his lips slightly parted. This was a version of him no camera ever caught, a man stripped of the armour he wore for the world. It was the face of the man who hid his broken hand and the fighter who watched me from across the gym floor, not the cocky athlete who sold out arenas.

I stayed awake, listening, watching, until I was sure he was properly out. Only then, once he was lost to the world, did I let my own eyes close. I leaned my head against his shoulder and followed him under.

CHAPTER 15

DECLAN

A sliver of grey light cut through the gap in the curtains, dragging me from a dead sleep.

For a second, my body tensed, anticipating the empty space beside me. I was used to waking up alone.

I turned my head on the pillow.

Char was still there. Her dark hair was a mess across the pillow, one bare arm thrown over her head. I watched the slow, steady rise and fall of her back, the rhythm of her breathing the only sound in the room.

She hadn’t done a runner. She stayed.

It meant something. It had to.

Careful not to wake her, I reached out. My knuckles brushed the soft skin of her upper arm. She didn’t stir. I let my fingers trail from her shoulder down to her elbow and back again.

Laying here, with just her, the world a fucking million miles away…it felt like I could finally take a breath.

I shifted, the mattress dipping under my weight. I moved over her, bracing on one elbow as I lowered my head toward her perfect breasts.

My mouth closed over her nipple. I drew on it, a hard pull that dragged a sharp sound from the back of her throat. My teeth grazed the ultra-sensitive tip.

Char’s body went taut as she let out a ragged gasp. Her back arched, lifting her clean off the bed as her hands came up to fist into my hair. Her knuckles dug into my scalp, pulling me harder against her.

I kept the pressure steady, my tongue tracing slow, wet circles. The skin beneath my mouth felt scorching hot. I moved to her other breast, repeating the action, feeling her body writhe with pleasure.

I slid lower, guiding her legs apart, the muscles in her thighs tight with anticipation.