Page 75 of Over the Edge

I backed her against the wall, lifting her by the backs of her thighs. The towel came loose in the process, falling forgotten to the floor. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I pressed her harder against the wall, my mouth leaving hers to trail hot kisses down her neck.

“I hate you,” she gasped even as she clawed at my shirt, popping buttons in her haste to get to skin.

“I know,” I growled against her throat, my hands sliding up her bare sides, feeling her shiver against me. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

She answered by ripping my shirt open the rest of the way, buttons scattering across the marble floor like tiny gunshots. Her fingernails raked down my chest, leaving trails of fire that went straight to my cock. I groaned into her mouth as she bit my lower lip hard enough to sting.

“Bed,” she gasped against my mouth, and I didn’t need to be told twice.

I carried her to the bed, our mouths never breaking contact, my hands gripping her ass, fingers digging into her soft flesh. We fell onto the silk sheets in a tangle of limbs, her naked body writhing beneath me as I struggled out of my remaining clothes.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” I muttered, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while the other trailed down her body. She was already wet, her thighs parting eagerly despite the anger still flashing in her eyes. I slid my fingers through her slick folds, watching her arch into my touch despite herself.

“Feeling’s mutual,” she gasped, her head thrown back as I circled her clit with my thumb.

“You want to be reckless? Want to push every boundary?” I growled, working my finger in and out of her soft, slick heat. “Let me show you what reckless feels like.”

She arched against my hand, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Flynn?—”

I silenced her with my mouth, swallowing whatever she was about to say. I didn’t want words right now. Words were where we got lost, where we hurt each other. This—her body trembling beneath mine, her pulse hammering against my lips as I kissed down her throat—this was honesty.

I knew her body now, knew exactly how to touch her to make her come apart. Her hips bucked against my hand, seeking more friction, more pressure.

“Tell me you’re mine,” I demanded against her ear, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath it. “Say it.”

“I’m not—” she gasped as I curled my fingers, hitting that spot that made her eyes roll back. “I can’t?—”

“You can.” I withdrew my fingers, and she cried out, bucking up to keep them until I wedged my hips between her thighs and positioned myself at her entrance. I dragged the head of my cock through her folds. “Say it, Lyric.”

Her eyes flew open, blazing with defiance even as her body trembled with need. “Make me.”

The challenge in those two words snapped the last thread of my control. I thrust into her hard, burying myself to the hilt in one swift movement that had us both gasping. I wasn’t wearing a condom and the sensation was indescribable—her hot, silky walls gripping me without any barrier between us. I nearly lost myself right then, overcome by the raw intimacy of it.

“Fuck,” I breathed, my forehead dropping to hers as I fought for control. “You feel?—”

“Move,” she commanded, her nails digging into my shoulders.

I withdrew slowly, savoring every inch of friction, before slamming back into her. She cried out, her back arching off the bed. I set a punishing pace, driving into her with all the frustration and fear and need that had been building since the moment she walked into the mission briefing.

“Say you’re mine,” I demanded again, my voice rough with exertion.

She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut, lips parted around breathless moans. Even now, she was fighting me, fighting this connection between us.

I shifted my angle, hitting deeper, and her eyes flew open. “Flynn!”

“Say it.” I slowed my thrusts, making each one deliberate, deep, torturous. “Say you’re mine, Lyric.”

“I—I can’t—” Her voice broke on a sob as I ground against her, circling my hips to hit that spot inside her that made her walls clench around me.

“Why not?” I whispered, pressing my lips to her temple, tasting the salt of her sweat. “Why won’t you let yourself have this?”

Emotion flickered across her face. Vulnerability, fear, something else I couldn’t name. For a moment, I thought she might actually answer, might let me see past her walls.

Instead, she hooked her legs around my waist and flipped us over with surprising strength. Now straddling me, she took control, rising up on her knees before sinking back down, taking me impossibly deeper.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my hands flying to her hips, guiding her movements. The sight of her above me, wild and beautiful in the dim light, her body gleaming with sweat as she rode me—it was almost enough to make me forget my question.

Almost.

---