Cross Crease (On The Edge Book 3)

by Elizabeth Hartey

  She stares straight ahead into my chest rather than into my eyes when she says, “I’ve realized a few things recently, D You were right about me. I can’t…you know…sleep around. And you can’t…well…I know how you feel about relationships and monogamy.” She glances up. “It hurt too much to be with you and…I mean…it would hurt too much to be with you and then have you be with someone else the next day. I don’t want to be hurt. I…like you said…I deserve someone who’s going to respect me, someone I can trust. I guess I’m a one guy kind of girl, after all. Guess that’s what I want.”

  The liquid need in her eyes grips my heart and twists it. She’s voicing all the reasons I haven’t touched her before now, all the things I’ve told myself time and again when it comes to being with her. But things are different now. We’re different now. I would never hurt her. Never.

  I place a finger under her chin and tip her head back. I need her to look at me when I say what I’m about to say. “I understand. I feel the exact same way. I do respect you, and I promise you can trust me. I want to be that guy for you. Unless…unless you want someone else.” Christ. If she says she wants the dick head, I don’t know how I’m going to handle it. How am I going to live without her?

  When she doesn’t answer, I take the opportunity to add, “But if it’s me you want, then it’s just you and me. No one else. Whatever happens, I would never hurt you. I’d destroy anyone who did. Trust me, Pip,” I whisper. “Let me…” I decide to tell her without words how I feel.

  I cup her cheeks and capture her lips with mine, trying to let my kiss finish the half-spoken promise. I pour everything I have into the kiss. She responds with a helpless cry and then slips her tongue into my mouth. In seconds it’s all heat and tongues clashing. It’s no longer soft and flirtatious. This is all hunger and savage need. We keep kissing and nibbling and ravaging each other’s mouth.

  God. She tastes familiar, but at the same time like everything I’ve never had, like everything I never knew I wanted. Until now. I’m crazy with desire and so hard with the need for her, I’m sure my cock could drill through steel. But if this is all I can have, I won’t make a move to take it further. I’ll just keep kissing her forever.

  “Heaven,” I whisper against her kiss-swollen lips.

  “D,” she gasps my name on a breath. Her hands slide under my t-shirt. Pushing it up, she stops long enough for me to raise my arms to allow her to tug it over my head.

  A wry grin curves her lips as she stares at my chest. She leans in and licks down my pecs and around my nipple. When she sucks it into her mouth and continues teasing it with her tongue the room around me blurs.

  “Holy fuck,” I breathe out, my gaze fixed on her. “Wha…what are you doing, Gorgeous?”

  She looks up, smiles, and mumbles with my nipple still in her mouth, “Everything. I’m going to do everything.”

  I can’t hold back another second. Hope this isn’t her favorite blouse. I push her back and rip her shirt open. She giggles when buttons go flying everywhere. Her pink lace bra is hot, but I’m not interested in any obstructions between us. It takes flight, seconds after her blouse. I scoop her up into my arms and rush toward my bedroom. The need to feel her naked against me is uncontrollable. Although I intend on having her on every surface in this place, I don’t want our first time together to be on my living room floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Heaven

  As we walk into his gigantic bedroom—which is somewhere around the size of most LA apartments—a small lamp on his night table comes on, automatically casting a sultry glow around the room. I take a nervous glance around. The decor is contemporary in black and grey tones, the walls stark white. My entire cottage would probably fit in this space.

  D lays me gently on the bed. As I lie back, uncertainty begins to take hold again. He said I could trust him. He said he would never hurt me. If he only knew how he’s hurt me already.

  But this is different. He’s different. This isn’t the same Damon Wolfe, the aloof, insensitive, loner. This is D, the complex man he keeps hidden inside. The sensitive, caring man I’ve caught glimpses of throughout our years as friends. The boy who captured my heart so many years ago.

  I hold out my arms in an open invitation. I just need to feel him in my arms for reassurance. This is right. This is perfect.

  He climbs over me and captures my lips in a kiss. When my breasts press against his bare chest, I moan into his mouth at the overwhelming sensation: lips against lips, soft skin against hard muscle, racing heartbeat against racing heartbeat. I slide my hands down his back, at last having the opportunity to savor every smooth, hard muscle.

  He kisses a trail down my neck and then across my collar bone. My skin prickles in chill bumps, definitely an inaccurate description, since rather than being chilly I’m burning up. He moves further down to my breast and sucks me into his mouth. A soft gasp escapes my lips. His tongue flicks over my hardened nipples. I push my chest up in a wanton need for more. He chuckles against my skin.

  “Your tits are perfect. I fall asleep at night thinking about these tits. I could spend a lifetime worshipping them.” He moves to my other breast, licking, nibbling, and then sucking on the nipple. Oh my. He certainly has a way of using his words…and tongue.

  “That feels so good.” My body trembles along with my words. I grip the bedcovers in an attempt to steady myself.

  “That’s just the beginning of what I’m going to make you feel,’ he says, and continues kissing and licking a trail down my stomach until he reaches the top of my jeans.

  He pops open the button on my pants and slides the zipper down. Standing up, he tugs my jeans off and drops them on the floor. His fingers skim the elastic on my lace panties. They join my jeans on the floor before I even realize they’re off me.

  He’s a man on a determined mission. He’s also the only man who has ever undressed me. Call me crazy, but it’s almost more seductive than the way he was licking me.

  For a moment, lust-filled, silver Wolfe eyes penetrate my soul. Except for his spectacular bare chest, he’s fully clothed in jeans. While I, on the other hand, am totally naked, lying spread eagle across his bed like a human offering. His wintery, heavy-lidded eyes sweep over my body. I’m being scrutinized by a demi-god. I’m sure he must be able to see the way every part of me is quivering. I’ve never been this vulnerable, this exposed to anyone. It’s intimidating and embarrassing. I move to cross my arms over my chest.

  “Don’t.” D’s command stops me mid-movement “You’re gorgeous, Heaven, like every artist’s vision of Venus. Don’t ever cover yourself.” Ever? Like never ever? Pretty sure a girl could get arrested.

  “I need you to do something for me, baby,” he says, his hands stroking my thighs. I shudder at his touch. I glance down, unable to miss the enormous bulge in his pants. Do something for him? Pretty sure I know what he wants me to do. But I don’t know how to do anything. Except for the one hit and run night with him, I’m a complete neophyte at this stuff.

  “O…okay,” I stutter, my nerves taking hold again. “Wh…what do you need?”

  “I need you to let me taste you.” He licks his lips. My whole body responds in an unintentional clenching plea.

  “Taste me? You mean you want to…” I glance down at myself. I’m unable to say the words. God. I’m such a semi-virginal dimwit. I don’t know anything about anything. I’ve never even let a guy go down on me because I was too busy saving myself for the perfect guy—this perfect guy.

  “Yes.” He pulls me to the edge of the bed and drapes my legs over his shoulders, giving him a bird’s eye view of my lady parts. “Every. Single. Inch. Of you.” Well, this is interesting and a teensy bit disconcerting.

  But then he begins talking to…my vagina, apparently. Because he looks straight into my core when he says, “I want to taste you.” He places a light kiss on my left inner thigh. “Lick you.” He licks and kisses my right thigh. “Suck you.” Dear God. All discomposure vaporizes
and lands between my legs in the form of wet pleasure. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes and bask in his words and the warmth pulsing through me.

  I’m sure the way he’s sucking on the soft flesh of my inner thigh is going to leave a bruise. The thought drifts through my lust-muddled brain, it’s fine with me if he leaves bruises on my entire body if this is what it feels like to get them.

  “I want to feel you come on my face,” he says while continuing to stare into my most private place. Just like that. Like it’s the most normal thing in the world to be explaining to my V-jay what he wants her to do. And then he takes a long lick down my center.

  “Oh!” I buck so hard from the sensation caused by his tongue on my throbbing clit, it’s only thanks to D’s quick reflexes I don’t take his head off with my pelvis. “Sorry. I…” I bite my lip.

  Looking down, seeing D’s beautiful face between my legs, his long, sexily disheveled hair and his heavy-lidded eyes eating me alive with desire, is enough to make me come without any further stimulus. I tangle the bedcovers around my fingers and hold on, preparing myself for the next thing he’s going to do to me.

  “Relax, baby.” D gives me a lazy smile and places a soft kiss on my leg. “Have you ever had a guy go down on you before?”

  “No, I…I’m sorry for being such a rookie.” I blow out a breath.

  “A rookie?” He chuckles and takes my legs off his shoulders before standing up.

  Nooo. I inwardly protest. I’ve ruined the moment being a complete nervous ninny, know-nothing.

  He leans over me and places his palms flat on the bed on either side of my head. “Heaven,” his tone is no longer soft and sultry. Instead, he sounds like a professor about to lecture me for turning in a late assignment. “My beautiful, naïve, sexy as fuck girl.” Well…no professor has ever lectured me like this. “I have been dreaming about this moment with you forever,” he continues.

  “You have?”

  “Yes, I have.” He cups my cheek with one hand, and all I want is for him to keep touching me—everywhere. “And the only thing that could possibly make me happier than to finally have you here, in my home, in my bed, is to know I will be the first man to make you feel everything I’m about to make you feel when I fuck you with my tongue.”

  “Oh…I…” My entire body flushes in heat.

  “So, is it okay with you if I continue to taste you? Because you’re so fucking sweet, I can’t wait to get back to eating you.” He stares at me, the muscles in his arms flexing from the way he’s holding himself up. Jesus. They’re like flesh-covered tree trunks.

  “Y…yes. It’s okay,” I stutter.

  “Okay. Good.” He leans in and presses a hard kiss to my lips. He nibbles my bottom lip and then soothes it with his tongue. “But you have to relax, Gorgeous.” His words become soft and caressing again. “Because I’m going to take my time and savor you like a fine wine. Nice and slow until you explode your sweetness all over my tongue. Got it?”

  “Yes. Yes. I’ve got it.” I’m nodding like a bobblehead. Oh. My. God. I’m dripping wet, quivering like a leaf, and so turned on I may begin flying around the room.

  He trails kisses down my body again, sliding down as he goes. When his head is between my legs, I’m mortified by how wet I am. Kneeling on the floor, he bends my legs and places my feet on the bed.

  “Mmm,” he hums and slides a finger inside me, sending shivers throughout my body. “So wet. So soft.” Oh God. I clench around his finger. Tensing every muscle, I try to keep my hips from jumping off the bed.

  “Relax,” he repeats, whispering against my swollen lips. He slides another finger into me, working me, lighting me up. “I’m going to lick up every drop of this sweetness.”

  This is nothing like the night at the resort, the night D doesn’t remember. This is slow, seductive, cherishing.

  Sliding his fingers from me, he continues to follow through with his promises. “Let me take you somewhere you’ve never been before,” his breath whispers over me.

  “Th…that almost sounds like lyrics to a song, D,” looking down at him, I coo in pleasure.

  “Then let me make you sing.” Damn. Who knew my cynical friend was a poet, as well as a legend in bed?

  He pushes my thighs apart, spreading me wider, giving him access to every part of me. Then he parts my lips and circles his tongue around my throbbing clit and I’m no longer on his bed. I’m soaring, then free-falling as he continues to lick and suck me. Using his tongue to fuck me deeper, he presses his thumb to my needy clit. I tangle my fingers through his hair, tugging him toward me. My hips once again push up, this time in an unrestrained reflex to grind against his mouth and ride his magnificent tongue.

  He takes me to the edge and then brings me back. Savoring me, as he promised. “Oh God. Please, D. Please.” I bite my lip to hold back my begging outburst. He looks up, his tongue still working me, his gaze dark with molten desire.

  “Does that feel good, baby?” His deep voice vibrates through my entire body.

  “Oh. God. Yeeess!” My hips circle against his mouth to help confirm my statement.

  “Then don’t hold back. Tell me what you want. I’m all yours to command.”

  He nibbles at my clit. I’m writhing and groaning and begging, “Ahh, God. Please. Please.”

  “Please what, baby girl? What do you want?” He delves back into me with his magic tongue. I swear I see rainbows and shooting stars.

  “I want to come. I have to come! Please.”

  He pushes two fingers into me, taking over for his tongue long enough for him to say, “There’s only one thing I want before I let you come.”

  Jesus. What is he saying? “Don’t stop,” I moan.

  “When you come, I want you to really let go. Scream for me, Heaven.”

  And then he goes back to licking and sucking and drinking me in. Yup. Damon Wolfe has the most incredibly talented mouth and tongue, which he is using to say and do the most wonderful, dirty things.

  He said he was mine to command, but at this moment I’d do anything he asked. And I do. I play all his requests. When I reach the point where I’m about to ignite, I sing out, “Your tongue deserves the MVP award!” No shame, because it’s the truth. I scream his name, chant prayers, groan sounds I didn’t know I had in me.

  My whole body shakes as I come apart, consumed by sensations I didn’t know were possible without burning up and completely disintegrating. When I come down to earth, I have no desire to move or speak or come back to reality. I’m a sated jellyfish. No control over my body.

  “Hey. You okay?” I believe that’s the smiling voice of the man whose tongue just blew my mind, tickling my cheek. Although, I’m unable to open my eyes to confirm my belief.

  “Mmhmm,” the only response I can manage.

  “Can you move?” The warm voice pours over me and melts me even further into the bed.

  “Auhn uh.” I succeed in shaking my head and giving a contented grin.

  Two strong arms scoop me off the bed. I moan in protest. Then I’m on the bed again, my head on a pillow, covers being pulled over me.

  “Thank you,” the seductive voice feathers across my lips. “Your sweet pussy deserves the MVP award too.” And just like Sleeping Beauty, his soft kiss brings me back to life.

  “D.” I open my eyes and sigh against his lips. He tastes like my sex and caramel body wash.

  “Hi there. Thought I lost you for a minute.” He smiles. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

  “Mmm. I have no intention of moving, ever.” I wriggle, belying my declaration.

  “Definitely don’t move like that.” He stands up. I groan in disapproval. “Yet,” he adds the afterthought. “I’m going to get us a snack.”

  As I look at him, I realize he still has an iron rod straining in his jeans because he hasn’t had any satisfaction. “But you’re still…” I push up on my elbows and glance at his crotch.

  “I have your favorite cereal. How’s that sound for a l
ate-night snack?”

  “My favorite cereal?” What is he talking about? That huge thing bulging against the unforgiving denim has to hurt.

  “Yeah, those maple wheat things you like.”

  “I thought you hated those sugary things,” I say to his back as he moves across the room to his dresser.

  “I’ve acquired a taste for them, along with other sweet things.” He looks back and gives me his sly grin and my crotch area clenches.

  “Let me get outta these jeans first.” He pulls sweatpants from a drawer and in one quick move kicks off his jeans and briefs. Sweet Jesus! I’m looking at the back of a naked god. If I’m a so-called vision of Venus, he’s Bandinelli’s Hercules. Every angel in heaven must have been working overtime when they put him together.

  He’s impossibly chiseled. His hulking shoulders are so broad, I could spend several pleasure-filled hours admiring them. His wide back vees down to a perfect trim waist and his muscular ass is a blessing which deserves a lifetime of adoration.

  Right now, though, there seems to be another large area which is in pressing need of attention. He slips on his sweatpants, turns, and adjusts himself. The head of his unsatisfied gigantic cock is peeking out over the waistband. He casually adjusts himself to no avail, because now his rock-hard erection is pointing right at me through his loose pants, like a divining rod.

  “Here you go. Slip this on while I get the cereal.” He hands me a t-shirt. “The remote is on the night table if you want to pick something to watch. I’ll be right back,” he says and makes another nonchalant move to adjust himself before walking out the bedroom door.

  Is he kidding? He wants to watch television and eat cereal while he’s still…uncomfortable? This is not the same man who had gotten himself off and left me with nothing but an “I’m coming so hard” and a snore. This was a guy who wanted to take care of me, give me everything without a care for himself.

  I think I’m falling in love—and it’s terrifyingly glorious.