"Now I'm strung out on it," he went on, his voice a caressing rumble that dragged over her nerve endings. "I found the strength to delay gratification. Thank God."
She was embarrassed to realize that her anger was gone. She couldn't form words yet with her trembling mouth. He pressed a coaxing kiss against her lips. Slipped his tongue inside, exploring while his fingers thrust, deep enough to make her gasp, writhe, mewl. While his thumb caressed her clit. Getting it just...exactly...right.
"I don't just want to shove it into you," he whispered. "I want you to love it. I want you to come and come. Until the neighbors are banging the walls, begging you to stop, so they can hear their TVs again."
That made her shake with a burst of teary laughter. "I am not a screamer," she informed him. "So don't get your hopes up."
He looked skeptical. "You were screaming just now. At me."
She bristled. "Oh, bullshit! That was different!"
"Yeah? Was it?" His grin flashed. Wow, he was smooth. He'd wrangled her right through her little freak-out, with such grace and skill, she hadn't had a chance. She must be so transparent.
"You don't understand." Her voice wobbled perilously. "I can't just take this easy, like you want me to. I have to seize the moment."
"Don't worry," he urged. "You'll seize lots of moments. Hours of moments. I won't let anyone take them from you."
He pushed her down until she was flat on her back. She glanced up at the crystals that still spun above her in the window. The light trapped in their depths swirled and glittered in her tear-blurred eyes. He kissed her chest. Dropped seductive kisses, trailing lower, and lower. She sensed where he was going, panicked, and started to struggle up onto her elbows again. "Um, hold on. Wait. I can't...I can't--"
"You will." His voice was steely. "Relax, for one goddamn second, Edie. Let me make this good for you."
His lord-of-the-manor tone pissed her off again. "I told you how to make it good for me!" she snapped. "By getting the fuck on with it!"
"I can't. You're too small. I don't want to hurt you." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Are you into pain?"
She was taken aback. "God, no. I avoid pain whenever possible."
"Good." He pushed her legs wide. "Because if you were, you'd have to find some other guy to..."
His voice trailed off. She jerked up, to see what he was looking at. He was staring down between her legs, rapt. His eyes so bright, she could feel his gaze, like a touch. His intense regard was a sweet lick of delicious heat. "Ah," he whispered. "God. I take that back."
Oh, please. It was just her normal, furry muff. He didn't need to carry on about it like it was something celestial. She reached down, grabbed a handful of his hair. "What? You take back what?"
"No other man touches this." He fitted his hands around her vulva, cupping it, caressing it. "Just me. This is mine. All...mine."
Raw possessiveness roughened in his voice. She squirmed as he slid his thumbs over her slick folds, spreading them apart. Staring at her. Every tiny, quivering detail of her. Like he wanted to devour her.
"I, ah..." She coughed, cleared her throat. "That's a very intense sentiment to express after...how long have we known each other?"
"Very intense," he agreed. "So's this." He leaned down, dragging the tip of his tongue up her slit, sliding through her folds, swirling it up and around the taut nub of her quivering clit, suckling. "Your pussy is so beautiful. I want it. It's mine."
His voice vibrated against her sensitive bits, making her giggle and snort. "Oh, please. Pussy? That's such a silly word for it. Oh, my God, that...that tickles. That's...oh, God, that's amazing."
His eyes crinkled over the dark puff of her pubic hair. "I like that word," he said, pausing to flutter his tongue across her clit, a delicate trill that sent shudders of pleasure through her. "It's the best word. The other words sound too harsh to me. Pussy is softer. Lighthearted."
She gasped with pleasure as his tongue lashed, darted, delved. "I'm...I'm not particularly soft," she pointed out. "Or lighthearted."
"No?" He slid his tongue inside her. "You are, too, soft. Amazingly soft. Getting softer all the time. But would you rather use a different word? I'll accommodate you. I'll use any word you want."
He nuzzled her groin, making her shake with helpless shudders, half laughter, half breathless excitement. "Stop that," she giggled.
"Not a chance," he said. "As for lighthearted, hey. That can change in an instant. It did for me, the second that I met you."
She was sobered by his intensity, and groped for something to say, reaching hopefully for the giggling vibe again. "What word do you use for your own..." She jerked her chin expressively. "You know."
"My male member?" Her goofy semantic shyness made him grin. "I don't have much occasion to talk about my dick. I don't refer to it much. Got a preference? Lady's choice. Go wild. Be creative."
She was bright red. "Um. Whatever is fine. We don't really have to, um, talk about it."
"It doesn't matter a damn to him, what you call him," he informed her, solemnly. "All he cares about is what you let him do to you."
"Oh, yeah? What is he going to do to me? And when? Hah! After all my begging and yelling? I'll believe it when I see it, buddy."
"Then I'd better shut up and get to work." He shoved her thighs wide, and buried his face between them to caress her with lips and tongue; thrusting and swirling around her melting muff. It hit her all at once, along with the next shuddering spasms, how crazy she was, dragging this big, mysterious man into her bedroom. She'd have dragged him into her body, too, if he hadn't been so stubborn.
And sexy. Her body was changing into something new, flushed with hot, wild energy. This wasn't going to evaporate on her, or fizzle out. Kev was utterly in command of himself, her body, her pleasure. All she had to do was give in, and let him nudge her expertly along to yet another shining peak, another wild, astonished free fall--
She soared, spun, dissolved. Each wrenching pulse propelling her deeper into that magic place that only he had ever taken her. Where she felt complete, and whole. She glowed, shone.
When her eyes fluttered open, they streamed with tears, but she was not embarrassed by them. It was part of the emotional intensity between them. Honest, and achingly real. Terrifying and wonderful.
He waited, poised over her, his eyes boring into hers. She blinked away moisture, dragged in as much breath as she could, which wasn't much. Tried to move, couldn't.
He'd wedged himself inside her. She gasped and clutched his shoulders as he started to move. Slow, rocking strokes. Sensual pulses, pushing that big, hard cock impossibly deeper.
"That's more like it," he muttered, his voice a harsh rasp.
She dashed the tears away, started to say something, but she had nothing coherent to say. He could feel everything she thought and felt with his body, read it in her face, decipher her every brain wave. It was wonderful to be so close. She tried to lift herself, to meet his thrusts, but she was riveted by the slow push of his heavy body into hers. Utterly at his mercy.
She grabbed a handful of the flannel sheet and dragged it up to wipe ticklish tears on her face. Noticed a smear of black ink on the fabric as she let it drop. More tears slipped out. She was drenched. Slick with sweat. Flooded with lube. His strokes deepened. Still tight, but a wonderful sliding shove inside--and a slow, caressing drag out. Plunging, rocking. Again...and again.
She struggled up onto her elbows so that she could see every detail. Kev grasped her arms and pulled her until she was sitting, right at the edge of the bed, his shaft deeper inside than she'd known was anatomically possible. They stared down at the hot joining, damp foreheads resting against each other, hypnotized by the wet gleam of his thick cock as it slid out. They moaned together, as he surged inside once again. Each thrust making tiny, sexy liquid sounds. Gasps. Sighs.
She was so alive and aware, inside herself. Every slide of his body was a liquid, moving kiss, petting secret inner spots of unbearable sweetne
ss, stroking them into quivering life, waking them to desperate need. Each thrust made her crave the next. She bucked against him, desperate for more, deeper, faster. Harder.
She dragged him closer, trying to speak. He caught whatever garbled thing she was trying to say with his hungry kiss, and that was fine. Better, even, because her frenzied response was more honest and to the point than any words could be.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with wild abandon. She would let him take her anywhere. She wanted to toss away her fears, the barriers she hadn't know she had, blast down the walls around herself. She wanted him inside, at her core. One with her.
She whimpered and gasped as his thrusts quickened. He slammed against her, his breathing harsh and loud, kissing away each tear as it slid out, hips surging powerfully. She hung on, riding him with perfect trust into the thundering heart of a storm.
Losing what she thought was herself there. Finding something else in its place. Something precious and nameless. Sweet, and lovely. Her naked heart, glowing like a live coal.
Free as a bird soaring, and yet forever bound.
CHAPTER 10
Kev didn't want to drift back from this plane of existence. He wanted to stay there forever. Live there, for eternity. Aware only of her.
Edie. Those soft, slender arms wrapped around him, his cock still in the clasp of her juicy pink pussy, her long, graceful legs clamping his thighs. Her head lay on his shoulder, heavy and limp, and her hair tickled him tenderly, fuzzy soft whorls of midnight darkness.
She fit. Like she'd been designed for his body. Pain and tension he'd never even been conscious of were instantly relieved by her touch. Her scent dragged into his lungs, gave him something his body needed more than oxygen. Every inch of his skin lucky enough to touch her was in shock from the perfection of that soft, hot contact.
He'd had sex before. He'd never really gone looking for it, and he tended to have long dry spells, but he indulged, when the occasion presented itself. But he'd never experienced anything like this.
He'd done his best by the women he'd slept with. He'd been polite, gentle, had taken pains to be a sensitive, satisfying lover. But the act had always struck him as an end in itself, leading nowhere but to a shudder of shallow release, and then a sad, empty flatness after.
And it created embarrassing situations, too. Women wanting him to feel things that he didn't necessarily feel. Or even want to feel.
Now he was drowning in feelings. Feelings that could kill him.
Edie. He felt the name, repeating it silently against her fragrant hair. Rolling the word around in his mouth. Loving the way it felt.
He'd come like a volcano blowing, but his dick was still rock hard. Unwilling to waste a second, now that it had found the sweet haven of her body. But he had to get rid of the latex, and let her rest.
He wondered if he'd been too rough. He hoped he hadn't bruised her. That would be humbling, after his posturing bullshit about self-control, about making her wait. Strange, that impulse, but he'd sensed that she needed a rock that she could fling herself against. She needed to push, so he'd pushed back. He hoped it had worked for her. She hadn't moved yet. In fact, she seemed to have knocked herself out.
His cock throbbed hopefully in the tight clutch of her body, wanting to rock and plunge afresh into her slick depths.
He allowed himself a few rocking slides, just to feel the tight, liquid kiss of her flesh along his length, the sigh fluttering through her. Then he held the condom in place, and dragged his unwilling cock out.
He lay her tenderly down on the narrow bed, spreading her hair out behind her head like a shining, swirling fan. Arranging it, stroking it with amazed fingertips. So soft. God. She gazed up, speechless, eyes heavy and dilated. Her soft pink lower lip caught between her teeth.
He pulled the condom off, looked around. Edie cleared her throat. "There's a wastebasket under the sink." Her voice was scratchy and dry.
He nodded, stumbled into the other room, and took care of it.
He stood out there, heart clutched with doubt. He'd always avoided even thinking about the possibility of being with a woman for the long term. It was unthinkable, given the unknowns in his life. The latent violence and danger in his past. It struck him as irresponsible, to expose some poor innocent woman to that. Or so he'd told himself.
Now he saw that reasoning for the shallow bullshit that it was. Truth was, he'd never wanted to badly enough. He'd never given a shit.
But he did now. Oh, Jesus, was he ever in trouble now.
What he ought to do was quietly put on his clothes and slink out. Leaving no address, no number. It was the responsible thing to do.
But that just wasn't going to happen. So fuck it. He let the implacable force of gravity drag him back into the bedroom, to Edie.
She'd pulled herself up, clutching the quilt. Her hair was a fuzzy, dark cape, her lips red, her eyes sultry and glowing. So fucking pretty, it made his heart stop. This couldn't be happening, but it had all the massive inevitability of fate. He'd been waiting his whole life for her.
She smiled, her eyes flashing timidly down to his tireless tentpole of a dick. "Are you, ah, cold?"
He was a blast furnace. His dick was going to be in a state of permanent inflammation, now that it knew Edie Parrish existed.
"Actually I'm burning up," he said.
"Oh." She picked at the pattern on the quilt with her fingers. "Well, whatever. I was just wondering if, um, you wanted to get under the covers with me, but if you're so hot--"
"Fuck, yeah! Absolutely! I changed my mind. I'm freezing. Going into shock from hypothermia. Warm me with your body heat. Please."
She giggled, which made his heart soar. They hadn't had many smiles so far. Mind blowing revelations, sure. Thundering orgasms, definitely. But not a lot of laughs. She held up the quilt for him, and he slid his body into the narrow, deliciously warm space beside her. Not that he was complaining about the close quarters. Any excuse to touch her again was fine with him. The tighter the clinch, the happier he was.
She arranged the quilt over his shoulders, and traced the pattern of burn scars on his deltoid with her fingertip. Burns from a cigarette, he figured. It was the best he could piece together, from the nightmares.
He loved staring at her from so close. Having her beautiful face fill his field of vision. He could let his senses drown in her, and die happy.
"Sorry about the tiny bed," she murmured.
"I don't care," he said.
"Nothing else would fit," she explained. "Unless I gave up the space for a dresser, which I suppose I could have, since I don't have much of a wardrobe. But when I got that bed, I wasn't figuring on..."
"On what?" he prompted.
The color flared on her cheek. He loved it. Sunrise on a snow-field, but warmer, softer. He couldn't think of anything fine enough, lovely enough, to be a metaphor for her.
"On hooking up with someone," she finished.
"Good." The surge of possessive hunger made his arms tighten around her. Wow. Hadn't known he had it in him. He was flustered.
"You could come over to my place," he blurted. "My bed's huge."
She looked through her lashes, with a mysterious smile. "Is it?"
He felt himself flush, with the sharp awareness that it did not look quite as good on his scarred, raddled face as it did on her perfect one. "Not because I'm in the habit of throwing wild parties in it."
"Hmm," she murmured, her eyes dropping.
"I'm just, ah, really big," he went on. "Uh, long, that is."
"I noticed," she said demurely.
His color got hotter. "I didn't mean it that way."
She slanted a sidewise peek at him, trying not to smile. She cleared her throat with a prim little cough. "Um. Neither did I."
Aw, shit. She was enjoying his embarrassment way too much. "Anyhow," he pushed grimly on. "The point is, there's plenty of room. My apartment is a converted warehouse. It's huge. Room for lots mo
re rooms, if I, uh, ended up needing them. I even put in two bathrooms. In case I should someday, you know. Get lucky."
She caught her lip between her teeth. "Um, are you, ah, kidding?"
He was pushing too hard. "I don't know," he said cautiously. "Tell me. What response would get me what I want?"
"What is it that you want?" she demanded.
They were stalemated in their weird little word dance now.
I want you in my bed every night. I want you to bear my children. I want to put a ring on you. Body and soul. All mine. Forever.
Uh-uh. Not yet. He'd scare her out of her wits. He shrugged. "Maybe it's too soon for this conversation," he hedged.
"It sounds like you want me to be your, um, girlfriend," she said.
His heart leaped. "Well? So? Would you like to be?"
"There are a bunch of questions that need to be answered first."
"Ask them. I'll answer, and you can move into my apartment."
She covered her mouth with her hand. "You're scaring me, Kev."
He peered at her face. It looked like she was trying not to smile, so he decided to go with the vibe rather than the face value of her words.
"I'll build you your own room," he offered rashly. "There are huge windows. Great light, for your drawing. I've got so much square footage, I could have a skating rink in there."
"Slow down, buddy. I don't know the first thing about you."
That was not true. He thought about the Fade books, and his arms tightened around her. She did know him, in ways he didn't begin to understand. She knew things he'd never told a living soul. Things he'd barely acknowledged to himself. She'd seen them, dreamed them, drawn them. Anything inconsequential thing that she didn't know, she could quickly learn. And that was part of the strange wonderfulness of this whole experience. Feeling known. Feeling knowable.
He'd always been cut off, even from himself. Half his memories, half his self, forever beyond his reach. No childhood, no parents, no point of origin, no frame of reference. No image of the person who had fed him as a baby, changed his diapers, taught him to walk, talk, read. All unknowns, even the stupid, inconsequential stuff. His favorite color, his favorite rock band, his favorite breakfast cereal, his astrological sign? Who the fuck knew? A person had to have been a child once, to answer questions like that.
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