by Lisa DeBells
Did she crave me as much as I her?
I stood before her and took the coffee mug she clutched in her hands. Such small delicate hands that I wanted all over my fucking soul. My sanity had taken a fucking hike. Was Eden even capable of love? She had me thinking after last night that maybe I was. Had she ever been loved? The notion made me jealous. I looked at her and I saw hope, in me, that’s the feeling she gave me, and I’d be ruined if she left now. If she didn’t want me, better to not know the full extent of what i’d lost. I knew I affected her, her lust reflected my own and what I would give to not have feelings of decency. Maybe I should just caveman her over my shoulder and make my cock the legitimate reason to stay. Don’t stay for my soul. No pressure. Just let me fuck the shit outta you, and you outta me. This had a hardening effect on my cock.
But if I let her leave now, keeping all this inside me, eating me away, I would feel cheated at the chance to know how far we could take this. So I will only ask her once. Her choice. Mine. My Eden. My choice.
*******
Eden
They both appeared a minute later. Chase called out goodbye to me then left with a confused look. Had they just had words? Mitch walked back to me, took the mug out of my hands and sat it on the table.
He was pensive and intense. His eyes held no malice, but there was that tick in his jaw that pulsed as he clenched his teeth and I knew that in itself meant there was something more to this look. What had I done to cause such acute emotion in him? Maybe Chase had set him straight, reminded him of all the hot-blooded girls that were much prettier, much perkier, and an all-round hotter package.
“Your choice.” WTF? It was more of a statement. His voice was as hoarse, and those damn lips distracted me every time he spoke. My nipples poked hard at the soft cotton of his shirt tenting two perfectly formed peaks. Thanks, body, for siding with Mitchell, object of my confusion.
“What choice?” It was necessary that he give me some options here. I wanted him to tell me what they were. I’m not a gambling woman, and I wouldn’t be played by him. “You should tell me what they are first, Mitchell. Fair’s fair, no?” Ha! Two can play, if that’s what he wants.
He towered his sublime body over me, like an exhilarating waterfall. I wanted him in so many ways; his beauty belied what he held inside.
“I won’t ask again, Eden.” He lowered his head, his chin almost touching his chest, closing his eyes and inhaling. How many layers of Mitchell could I strip? How far would I push him just to hear him say the words I wanted to hear?
“Your choice.” He held his hand out and snapped his chin up, again raining his brilliant green eyes on mine. “It’s all of me or nothing at all.”
“You.” He was offering me him. My tiger, the man that asked me if I wanted to tame him, he was asking me if I wanted him.
“You’re the choice.” My words were an affirmation.
“I can’t make you any promises, Eden, for a future . . . and you will probably want to run. I should make you go now. But I can’t. It’s not in me, to do that, when it comes to you. So if you choose me—” He took in a deep breath, and let it out in a rush. “—if you want me, you will be mine.”
“Mitchell, I—”
“You tell me now. There’s no thinking it through, nothing to plan, no list of pros and cons, just feel it. Fight or flight, baby.” He paused, letting this proposal sink in. “What do you say?”
I was standing at the edge of a cliff, my toes scuffing the corner of the rocks. I wanted to peek over the edge. I really did. But my fear held me back. I would protect what I had built inside of me. I could be safe and predictable. As long as I lived by my rules and never ever got close too the edge I would still be living, in my neat little buffer of a life.
A huge issue I had with staying level-headed and sheltered was not having Mitchell. He wasn’t joking with me; he had only ever been upfront and open when it came to me . . . us . . . never backing down, because he was worried he might hurt me. For that I wanted to say yes. He knew I could handle it; was that why he was pushing me, testing my limits when it came to him? Maybe he knew what I needed before I wanted it. Maybe he wanted to fuck around a little bit more. Maybe I would end up a broken mess after he’d left me and taken all the pieces of my soul with him. Maybe he could see past the beauty and heal what has kept me broken since I was ten. Could he fill that void in me. Damn it to hell, he was worth the risk. Would he catch me if I jumped? Was he worthy of more than what I ever thought he would be on that night eight encompassing days ago?
I stood up on raised toes, stood as tall as my legs allowed, with conviction I straightened my spine. I rose as tall as my legs would allow. I placed my hand firmly in his and faced the man that made me want to run, fast and head on toward the precipice of the cliff, and leapt gloriously with my head flung back, arms outstretched at my sides and eyes shut, because today Mitchell was going to catch me. And I would choose him, not knowing if he would catch me tomorrow.
Mitchell
“Kiss me you fool.”
“Tell me you want me first.” Fuck, I needed those words. My chest was tight with need.
“I want you, Mitchell Stone,” she whispered. Why did I want more when she was all ready giving me herself? Choosing me. Those three little words, “I want you” would never be enough. She sunk her lips to my face and kissed me sweetly, like she was raining all these small kisses, healing the hurt in me. I turned my head because I needed to taste her, claim her, and kiss what was now mine. Her mouth was so warm and familiar. I caressed her tongue with my own. She tangled her fingers at my nape, pulling me in harder as if she couldn’t get enough. I knew the feeling. Her warmth flanked me, and I needed her in every way. Eden was like this drug, specifically formulated just for me, my own kind of medicine, to cure me, the ache. Could it take away the bad? I wanted to explore her all over again, knowing what I know now, after her choice was me. Fuck me!
We were in harmony, and now I was going to take her upstairs . . . again . . . carrying her, because this was what I liked to do to. I was the man. Her man. Eden’s fucking hero.
I sauntered like a prowling predator, on a mission to get her into my bed. I wanted to take this slow. Then she was pulling away from me, my lips forsaken for words. I groaned, hungry for more than words right now.
“Take me to the kitchen, Mitch.” I was confused, and crinkled my brow questioningly.
“Your hungry?”
“Yes but not for food.” She smirked and I fucking loved that she was teasing me.
“Hmmmm, you want it on the bench then? I like that.” Eden had her eyes rolling as I walked us over to the kitchen. She leaned over to the pages that I’d drawn on, especially for her, and picked the drawings up.
“OK, now where were we?” She starting kissing me again. Her hands held the papers at my back. I grabbed behind her knee.
“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” Just like you have my soul, around you. “So, how bad do you fucking want me?”
“You’ll get a big head.”
“Too late for that.”
“Oh I know. I can see one and feel the other.”
This banter we had was incredible. I liked talking to Eden almost as much as I wanted to strip her naked and mate with her for the next seven days. She caused some primal shit in me. “Gonna show you what you do to me, baby, all day, all night. We aren’t coming up for food, sleep or air.” I walked us up my stairs and licked all the little spots on her neck I could get to. She tasted like sugar.
“Mitch.” And the way she said my name, low and seductive, like I slayed her . . . I was her man, and she was my woman. Mine. Mine. All mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eden
I was tucked tightly into Mitchell’s side. My head was resting in the nook of his neck, every breath I took intoxicating. His scent drugged me, all of my senses so eager to drown in him. His strong arms closed around me, the one I was lying on splayed over my hip, possessively. I traced little lin
es over his abdomen, making patterns as I warred with the emotions within me. How could I feel so much toward someone I hardly knew? I felt like Mitch had some kind of guardianship over me; maybe it was the way he’d taken care of me that first night? Either way every cell begged for more.
I had lost my head somewhere along the way. This was not me. I didn’t do random, and I certainly wasn’t the insouciant type of woman that didn’t live responsibly. Regardless of all of this, my care factor equaled zero. So what was it about Mitchell Stone that had me letting down all of my defences, dropping the guard I’d thought was unreachable? He’d made me question every decision I had ever made when it came to men.
Oh, I had experienced some absolute jerk-offs, too. This niggling thought gnawed at me. What if I hadn’t met Mitchell? Surely all of the hurt and humiliation of my latest bust up, as public as it was, had been worth it. A world without Mitchell, knowing what I know now, would be dark and boring. I would have kept living in my safe little world, with all of my things that made me happy. I didn’t need a man. Until him. I had never known any man that could hold a flame to Mitch. He’d set a precedent for anyone that might come after. I couldn’t imagine wanting another man; this was it for me. Done and dusted.
He was breathtaking to look at. His body was built for all things that sent you packing a bag on a one-way ticket to hell. I was certainly front and center in that line. His sexy smile and pouty lips, the way he enunciated his words, it was the smallest thing but it had my eyes riveted. His glorious hair that was five different shades, wheat, blonde, light brown, a little copper, it all framed a beguiling face, rugged and beautifully imperfect.
There were other things about him though, special little qualities that I found compelling. The way his eyes darkened when he looked at me like he could eat me. The fear that kept him guarded, like he could only give me so much of himself until he shut down. The way he pummelled his punching bag, like he was kicking the shit out of someone; it worried me to think that someone had caused that kind of tension in him.
I wanted to know more of him, I shook my head in defeat; this wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just that this pull, the spark born the night we met, burned. Bright and strong. I had a choice; he gave me an option. Light or dark. Full or empty.
I chose him, the light to my flame.
Mitchell. My Mitchell. I wanted to be his. Fuck, this was bad. I wanted him with more fervency than I had anyone before him. This was a worrying feeling, but I wouldn’t dwell on it right now, I could deal with it when I was at home, away from his intoxicating presence. I was ready. Devoted to being devoured, mind, body and soul, by him.
We were both quiet. I wondered if he was silent from being completely satiated in our love-making. Not love making you fool, hard, hot, dirty sex, call it like it is! My self-conscious would tell me.
I was restless. My legs were haphazardly resting over and through Mitchell’s, and felt hot and fidgety. I rolled onto my back, taking the sheets with me. The errant hair that was always falling in my face annoyed me more than usual and I blew it restlessly as I lifted my arms up and rested them on the pillow, looking to the ceiling for answers.
I could feel Mitchell’s gaze. Perhaps he was trying to work out what compelled me to move away from him. I wanted to look into the green depths of his eyes; I could read so much into them. When I did finally regard him, his beauty took my breath away. His head was propped up on his hand. Sometimes Mitchell had this mask on and was unreadable. I knew it because I lived it. It was so much easier to stay on guard; that way you wouldn’t get hurt. You stayed safe, but with that came loneliness. I think Mitchell’s fear drove him to take all kinds of risks; the gamble is his safe. Either way it was no way to live for long. I could see that hurt again, in his eyes. That shield in this instant was down. So was mine.
I turned my body toward his and mirrored him. He traced his finger over my cheek and down my throat, his eyes following its path. I felt the flame within me flicker to life; I don’t think it had been more than an hour since we finished our last round, but already my insides heated with his touch.
I watched his face for his reaction to me. Pink fleshy lips parted, inhaling air steadily. His finger made a lazy ascent up my throat and traced my lips slowly. I closed my eyes and deliberately bit the tip of his finger, holding it between my teeth. Mitchell’s low grumble propelled me further. I sucked it deep into my mouth and ran my tongue around it as if it was his cock. I wanted it to be.
“You’re a wicked woman.”
I moaned around his finger because his low, lazy voice was like my nirvana, tugging deliciously on all my sensitive areas. I pulled back and opened my eyes, only to be met with the daring green brilliance of his. Mitchell trailed the same finger from my lips down my throat to the center of my breasts. I watched as he clamped his bottom lip between his teeth, suggesting that he was indeed turned on.
“I’m a good girl and you know it.”
“Yes, and I’m your evil corrupter,” he said with a hint of mirth. Did he actually believe that he was evil? The thought had me slightly panicked. Mitchell might have had a past of questionable means but did I think he was bad? No way, never. He was too gentle and thoughtful, and I wanted him to know exactly what I thought of him.
“You’re not making me do anything that I don’t want to, Mitch.”
“My only wish is that you don’t run too soon.” I furrowed my eyebrows, confused by his words.
“I’m not the type to scare easily.”
He shook his head warningly at me. “You will, Eden, that’s what rips me. I fucking want you so bad that I will make you run.”
“I’m here now. Isn’t that enough?”
“For now. Until you get to know me. I’ve been in total darkness until you, Eden. My soul . . . it’s a dark place.” He thumbed my nipples lazily, causing them to stir.
I saw the war in his eyes. Fuck me, but he was torn. He closed them, therefore severing the truth I could see. But his eyelids wouldn’t be enough for him to hide behind. I felt the despair waft from him like ripples in an ocean. I touched his cheek and felt his body stiffen in response, cradling his face in my hand so that he could take some of my strength, I would make sure there was enough for us both.
I didn’t know if there was a future for us. I think our pasts would indelibly fuck us over before we even got the chance. But in this instant, I could give him whatever he needed from me to make all of those demons he kept shackled fade away for a while.
I wanted to cry. An ache deep inside me was hurting for this man. How could this soul be so wrecked that he thought he was corrupt?
“Your soul is a beautiful place, Mitch.”
He laughed icily. There was an amount of darkness in his eyes. He was taunting me, proving that the darkness was biting and dangerous. Pushing me away like he’d warned me he would. Strangely this chipped at the crack in my heart, I was hurting for the hurt in him. I wasn’t going to run . . . yet! I wanted to prove that I wasn’t afraid of whatever was in his past, but this was difficult. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. I let my hand weaken.
Mitchell was too quick for me though. He covered my hand with his, and I knew there was a frisson of hope. It was like a thread we had between us, winding us together. It was fragile and easily broken. I wanted to nurture that string and knit us together so we became stronger and unbreakable. This last little gesture would be my undoing. Mitchell had said he wanted me “badly.” I believed he needed me more than that, and I would dedicate myself, wholeheartedly, to find out the extent he would go to keep me.
The piercing unfriendly look faded from his features. His lips quirked into a shy smile. I gave the dimple in his cheek all of my attention, once again feeding the need I had for him, his body and whatever else he was willing to give me. I was insatiable, I wanted all of him.
“So, where do you want your ink?” His warm body covered me, he was so big, his wide chest and long torso flanked mine, causing me to lose my whole train
of thought. I giggled, shocked at being jostled about. I liked being underneath this virile and sexy beast that loved to play like a child sometimes. I could easily give myself over to him right now. I almost slapped myself for being so easy. Slut! whispered my cool, calm, controlled self. Christ she was boring, and I wouldn’t listen to her.
I pulled Mitchell to me and hummed out loud, thinking about his question. “I’m not sure yet, but I know what I want.”
“Tell me,” he said throatily. He placed kisses and licks on my neck, wet and open-mouthed, like he was eating his favourite ice cream.
“How can I when you’re distracting me?” His body was half rolled on top of me. His hard muscles softened into mine; he was heavy but my curves cradled him. I wanted to feel his full weight. I throbbed joyfully to my very core. His heavenly, huge cock dug into my thigh. My sex was already clenching and he wasn’t near being inside me yet.
“You taste too good.” His feathered kisses diverted me yet again. “Can’t get enough.” But he pulled his face away and hooked his hand under my knee, pulling me in closer to him. “Tell me what you want. I’m very curious and Eden, I can tattoo anything on you. I picked flowers because this is what you inspired in me to draw.”
“I want it all.” Shit; I’d let that slip. My brain-to-mouth filter was in tatters. I reached to the bedside table for the drawings, hoping to detract from my slip up. I had known instantly the flower I would choose. It would have to be the roses, so amazingly soft and life-like I wanted their permanence on my body.
“All of me?” His eyebrow quirked up playfully and he made a grab for my body. I giggled in delight because this playful Mitchell was one of my faves. “Come here, baby.” I let him arrange me to him; he liked to show me his strength, like when he picked me up, and I loved that he was so strong. He sat up and leaned on the bedhead with me nestled in between his legs. My body melted into a puddle of happy goo at his endearment for me.
