Page 64 of At the Edge with You

It has taken years and years of therapy to get my thoughts under control, and I’m proud of how far I’ve come. My intrusive thoughts and I are not friends, but when my brain suggested that I kiss Jett first, I decided it was onto something.

Jett’s lips are so close, whispering such sweet things and looking so damn inviting, and I can’t resist. I swear I could getdrunk off how he looks at me alone, but when he’s telling me how he feels about me with a song… Yeah, I’m a goner.

I have never wanted to kiss someone so desperately in my life.

Before I can change my mind, I touch my lips to his. The sigh that leaves his lips only fuels me further. I press my lips harder against his, relishing the feel of his flesh on mine and loving how soft his lips are. Suddenly, I’m tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and then a needy little moan leaves my lips.

Holy shit, I don’t want to stop.

I trace my tongue along his bottom lip, and he moans against my mouth. There is no denying the wetness between my thighs, but when he makes noises like that? I feel as if I may explode. God, he makes me crazy. Jett takes that as his cue and assumes control of the kiss, his fingers tangled in the back of my hair. I open my mouth for him, not allowing myself to think about anything but him. Unlike my wary kiss, where it seemed like I had no clue what I was doing, his is eager, hard, and oh-so good. Jett’s hand holds me reverently as he devours my lips, kissing and nibbling while never letting go of me. He lets small moans leave his lips that have me in awe that I’m causing him this kind of pleasure. Mine is evident, little whimpers that I don’t even recognize making their way out of me.

The only reason I pull back is because I can’t breathe, but he doesn’t let me go far. His eyes are hooded, dark, and burning with lust as they meet mine. He kisses my bottom lip once, then twice before kissing the top one. He leans his forehead to mine, his thumb stroking my jaw as our eyes lock. His pupils are blown out when he gazes into my eyes like I just stole the Beer League Trophy only for him.

Jesus, he is beautiful.

“I don’t usually like kissing on the mouth.”

Did I really just say that?

I close my eyes in pure humiliation, but his thumb still strokes my jaw ever so sweetly. I feel him smile against my mouth as he whispers, “Well, you’re really good at it.”

My eyes fly open to find him still looking at me like I’m holding the holy grail of hockey sticks. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He leaves me breathless when he takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist. Then he brings my hand down to his lap, to his cock that is long, hard, and proud. “I’m always sporting a chubby when you’re around. You turn me on just by existing, but now that I tasted that sweet mouth, heard those little moans, princess, you have me about to burst through this zipper.”

My lips part as my hand glides along his cock of its own accord. He doesn’t guide me; he only watches as I move my hand over his length. My heart is in my throat, and I’m in awe of how much I affect him. His eyes basically roll back in his head as he groans deeply in his chest. “Fuck, Fable.”

My whole body responds to his plea. My nipples ache against my bra, my stomach is clenching, and my core is throbbing. “I’m wet.”

He makes a choking sound before his eyes meet mine. “You don’t ever take it easy on me, do you?”

I press my lips together, shaking my head. “I say that because I don’t usually get wet.” His brows pull together, but I don’t allow him to comment, my shame making me ramble. “I can’t seem to stay in sync with someone when we get intimate. Because of that, I get too lost in my thoughts to get wet. I usually start thinking of other things, like my grocery list?—”

His lips capture mine again, cutting me off, and I lose myself to the kiss. I crave it, I need it, and when he leans me back against the couch, I go willingly. He tucks me up under his body, and I welcome his weight. One of his hands holds me at my hip, while the other holds my face. He slips his leg between mylegs, and I arch against his thick thigh, moaning loudly into his mouth. He smiles wickedly against my lips, and I smile back, our eyes meeting. “First, I don’t like hearing about you being with other men.” A smirk pulls at my mouth that has his eyes flashing with possessiveness. “But what I’m hearing is that I have to make sure you stay in the moment with me.”

My heart trips, does a flip, and lands flat on its face at the sentiment. “What?” I ask shakily as he strokes his thumb along my swollen lip. Surely I heard him wrong.

“I have to make sure you’re with me,” he says softly. “And trust, that’s no hardship, princess.” He kisses me again, a chaste, sweet kiss that has my toes curling.

How does he know what I need?

I swallow hard as he trails kisses down my throat to the neckline of my dress. He kisses me softly before he presses his chin to my chest. “In sync?”

My heart swells as I swallow. Emotion threatens to choke me as his lips curve up to one side. I feel my eyes welling with tears, but I refuse to ruin this moment. I slowly nod, and a striking look of eagerness comes over his face as he swirls his tongue along the swells of my breasts. He moves his hand from my waist to cup my breast, and then he is rolling my nipple through my dress with his thumb and forefinger. His voice is husky and dirty as he mutters, “One.”

I’m so lost in the feelings he’s pulling from my body, I can’t even form words to ask why the hell he’s counting. He moves to my other breast, doing the same, and another wicked grin comes over his face. “Two.”

I swear my heart is about to come out of my chest when I realize he’s counting my piercings. His eyes move to mine, heat and pure seduction in the brown depths. “Can I see them?”

I pull down the bodice of my dress without answering, and his eyes widen at the sheerness of my bra. His breath hitchesfor only a moment before he leisurely runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Fucking stunning,” he whispers, pulling down the cups of my bra and dropping his mouth to one of my nipples that has a barbell through it. He swirls his tongue along the metal balls, causing me to moan so loudly my face flushes at how needy I sound. He likes it, though, his cock throbbing against my thigh as he moves to the other nipple. His mouth is hot, sloppy, and I love it. I’m so damn hot, I don’t even know what to do with myself.

I run my hands up his back, holding his shoulder, while I tangle my other hand in the curls at the back of his neck. His hips shift against my leg, and the feel of his hard cock has me trembling everywhere.

“Please,” I whine, arching into him. “More.”

He curves his tongue along my nipple, pulling another moan from my lips. Then against my taut point, he asks, “More?”

“More, please,” I beg, and he smiles against my heated flesh.

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