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“Please don’t stop,” she said, breathlessly.

He chuckled softly, then rocked into her again, earning another sweet sound from her. “No chance of that.”

She lowered to her elbows, cheek pressed into the comforter, and he could feel her body surrender. Anything he wanted, he could have—everything from her posture to the rapt look on her face said it. The reality of that was like a heady drug dumped into his blood. She may be a smartass sometimes, may rebel against some of the rules, but goddamn if she wasn’t gorgeously, perfectly submissive when she was under his touch. Pleasure, pride, and something else he didn’t want to label at the moment swelled high in his chest.

She whimpered softly beneath him, and he braced himself over her back, wrapping his arm around her to reach her clit. She had taken her punishment with grace tonight, and now he was going to make damned sure he brought her to a place to make it all worthwhile. As soon as he touched the swollen button, she arched her back like a cat, pulling his cock even deeper inside her. He groaned along with her.

“You have permission to come when I do, baby,” he said, increasing his tempo, no longer content to go slow and easy. He needed to hear those fuck-me screams of hers. That sound did things to him he couldn’t even describe—knowing that she was out of her head, lost to it all—was like pure adrenaline for him. He continued to thrust inside while stroking her clit, their bodies going slick with sweat in the effort to prolong the pleasure.

Then he watched her fingers curl into the comforter, her knuckles going white. She shifted restlessly beneath him, like the buildup of energy was too much to hold in her body. He knew she was past the point of return. Feeling no pain. All pleasure. All need.

“Come, my angel” he whispered.

The low, keening cry on the heels of his command was like bliss-soaked music. He gripped her hard and fucked into her like a man possessed, dying in the pleasure of her clasping, clenching heat. Her sounds. The scent of her skin and arousal. It was all too much. Right as she buried her face in the blankets to muffle another grinding moan, he came hard, spilling inside her and letting loose his own shout of release.

It was the perfect moment.

With the perfect woman.

And for just those few minutes, as they rolled over and curled into each other, he let himself imagine that it wouldn’t be temporary. That he’d found that girl.

But he knew hope was a wicked bitch. One who had proven time and again that the minute you believed in something or someone, you got decimated.

And even if Cela thought she wasn’t telling her parents about staying because she was afraid of how they would react, he knew the truth. She hadn’t told because she still wasn’t sure of her decision.

She wasn’t sure of him.

And that’s what had hurt him tonight.

So he knew that he had to cherish these stolen moments with her, because like everything else good in his life—there was always an expiration date.

And every instinct he had said the clock was ticking.

THIRTY

The next morning I found myself in the completely odd position of waking up in Foster???s bed and getting ready to go into work with him. I’d run over to my place to shower and put on fresh clothes. But right after, I was back, hand in hand with him as we headed out for the day.

He’d offered to give me a tour of his company today, and I was looking forward to seeing it. But as he pulled up to the Starbucks drive-thru window and handed me my latte, it wasn’t lost on me how very domestic this felt. How fast this was all happening. I tried to push away the anxiety that came along with that. Half of me was thrilled at how comfortable everything was, but the other half—my practical half—was warning me to slow down my assumptions.

He pulled away from Starbucks and set his coffee in the cup holder. “So have you thought any more about when you’re going to tell your family?”

I sipped my drink, the too-hot liquid burning the tip of my tongue. I winced—whether it was from the coffee or the question he’d asked—I wasn’t sure. “I was thinking maybe it’d be best to tell them in person.”

He looked over at me, eyebrows lifted.

“I’m supposed to go home for my birthday, not this weekend but next, and I figured it’d be more respectful to talk to my dad face-to-face. Maybe I can make him understand better if he can see how excited I am about this new job.”

“Sounds like a brave route to take,” he said, nodding. “And a mature one.”

I held my fingers around my cup, hoping the warmth could chase away the chill going through me at the thought of talking to my dad face-to-face. “I’ve already tried to tell him on the phone, and it was an epic fail.”

“I’m sorry. If I could help make it easier for you, I would.”

I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. I just wish I could fast-forward time and have it be done.”

“I know the feeling,” he said, almost to himself more than me.

Before long we were pulling in front of a shiny building with the 4N logo on it. Foster pulled into a reserved spot close to the front and helped me out of the car. “Wow, you get your own spot and everything. Fancy.”


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic