Page 235 of Cross the Line
And my greedy heart eats up every syllable like it’s not already too big for my body. For me.
Leaning in once more, he brushes his lips lightly over mine, keeping his deep gaze locked on mine, and asks, “How do you want me, Baby?”
My pulse is screaming with need and the marrow-deep thrill of owning every part of him while I drag my lips to his ear and say, “In every way.”
Not just his body. I want every part of Eli, every way I can have him. Physically, emotionally, and fuck, even spiritually. I want every last piece of his existence to meld with mine.
Without pause, I smooth my hands up his sides—from hips to waist—while my mouth inches down his neck, lapping the briny beads along his collarbone to his nape as I move around him.
His heart hammers through his back into my chest, faster with every caress of my hands and every openmouthed kiss I place along his shoulders.
His ass grinds back into my groin when I palm the underside of his cock along the lower ridge of his stomach. With a languid thrust, I push through the cleft of his ass and slather more lube on us.
Eli’s back crushes to my chest. His erection throbs in one of my hands while the other grips my shaft. I mold two slick fingertips over my tip and circle his hole, easing inside again and scissoring him open.
“Push back, Sweetheart,” I tell him when the head of my cock presses to his entrance. “Take what you need, Eli.”
With his head on my shoulder, he cants his wet stare to mine. My hand runs up his torso to hold his face to mine when he tentatively rocks back into me. I want to hold him in every way I can. To give him everything he needs, even what he can’t verbally ask for.
A tear coasts down his face as my blunt tip nudges against him, and I push my fingers all the way to the last knuckle, stretching him one last time for me.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” is all I can say, swiping his tear with my thumb as he follows my instruction, and his shaky exhale eases me inside him. “I got you.”
We both hold still. I let his body sink over me at its own pace. I’m trying so hard to keep it together—to ignore the ache pulsing from my balls to the pit of my stomach, curling my toes as his tight body swallows me inch by inch.
“JJ…” Eli cries, brows pulling with his plea. “Kiss me. Please, just fucking kiss me.”
Instantly, I crush my mouth to his. The movement urges us deeper as I tilt his face and devour every cry, every sob, every agonizing groan and whimper. I drink them down while pouring all my love into him.
I don’t stop. Not for a single second. Not even to catch my breath when I bottom out inside him and all the air whooshes from my lungs into his chest.
Fucking Christ.
He’s so damn tight I can feel the clench of his ass all the way through me. Like an all-body chokehold that makes it impossible to remain still when his groin flexes.
Chasing the heat of his body is an instinct I can’t control. It’s as natural as the burn in my lungs, forcing me to come up for air when Eli collapses into my chest. His head is on my shoulder as I move in and out of him in gentle strokes, and his garbled curses litter the air.
“So good…” I murmur in between kisses to his shoulder. “So,so, fucking perfect.”
Eli’s hands grip my glutes. Short nails clawing into me with every leisurely thrust of my cock.
“Jayden…” he calls out my name like a desperate prayer, and I reply with one long stroke that slaps my groin to his ass. “Fuck.Fuck, Baby…fuck!”
“I love you.”
There are a million words spinning around my head with the drive of my body into his. Yet those three are the only ones my brain can compute and my mouth can vocalize.
They’re the only ones that matter.
“I love you, Babe…” So I keep saying them, on repeat like a promise, my own prayer devoted to the only man I worship with every cell of my being. “I love you, Sweetheart… Eli… I love you…”
“JJ…” he chokes as I wrap my arm around his chest, and my hand brackets his throat, holding him firmly to me while my other hand pumps his cock in fast, even strokes, matching the tempo of my dick bottoming out inside him on repeat. “Don’t stop.Fuck, don’t stop.”
His fingers dig deeper into my thighs. As if he’s as desperate to bury himself under my skin as I am in him.
Every time I stroke alongthat placeinside him, his body tenses. Muscles twisting with a maddening clench that sizzles straight to my balls.
My pulse pounds harder, faster, igniting that sweet hum that numbs the world.
