Caught Up In You (Edgeplay Part 2)

by Jenna McCormick

  With a shaking hand, I reach for the red file, pick it up open it. The first page does indeed look like a standard employee file, name, date of birth, social security number, a copy of my driver’s license. The next page is my collage transcript, including the incomplete courses. It’s the third page that’s a knife to my gut.

  Mother: Debra Ann Sinclair

  Whereabouts: Currently unknown

  Father: Unknown

  Subject is believed to be the byproduct of rape. See attached police report.

  I’ve seen more than enough and close the file. The wording makes me gag. Byproduct of rape. Doesn’t that just say it all?

  “You’ve read this.” I whisper. It isn’t a question. I hate him in that moment, for exposing my greatest shame, for sitting there smugly while all the time knowing…

  “No,” he startles me out of my downward spiral and I look up, meeting his gaze. “No, I didn’t read it.”

  “Why not?” I don’t know if I believe him, but I want to, so badly.

  “Because,” Connor says, but doesn’t finish his statement.

  “Because why?” I need to know. With his resources and paranoia, I’d think he would gobble up every last morsel of information he could acquire.

  He gets up, moves to the railing and stares out at the seemingly endless expanse of ocean.

  I follow, even though Snarkarella hisses that I should leave well enough alone. “Connor, why wouldn’t you read it?”

  He turns to me, gripping my arms tightly. “I can’t guarantee that I didn’t, not one hundred percent. You need to understand that.”

  Oh, he’s talking about his other self. “Okay. But you just told me earlier that you make the same choices when you’re in blackout mode. And I’ve been with you then, I think you would have said something about what’s in there. So I’m asking you again, why didn’t you just read it?”

  “Because I want you to trust me.”

  If not for the grip he has on my upper arms, I might have collapsed onto the deck. Did I hear that right? “Come again?”

  He sucks in a breath. “You don’t know how difficult it’s been for me, wanting to know every last little thing about you and having that in my possession. I told myself it was only fair, since you’d been reading about me in the tabloids.”

  “But that stuff’s not real.” It scares me a little that I’m starting to understand how his mind works.

  He nods. “Exactly. I want to know Baily. I want to know everything about you, but I want you to tell me because you trust me with the information. I want to earn that right.”

  “Why?”

  His laugh is devoid of humor. “Beats the hell out of me. I’ve never been so conflicted over a decision before. I make a call and I stick with it until new intel emerges, which could lead to a new decision. There isn’t room for second guessing and self-doubt when running a company, and shouldn’t be any in personal relationships either.”

  He sounds absolutely disgusted with himself for not following his standard protocol, for protecting my right to privacy.

  How can I not kiss him after that?

  He’s startled at first, when my lips feather over his. I realize as far as he’s concerned this is our first kiss. With that in mind, I tunnel my fingers into his hair and open my mouth, touching my tongue to his, giving it my all.

  Connor jolts as though I’ve zapped him full of electric current and then a harsh groan tears from deep in his chest, perhaps from his very soul. Then his hands are on my ass and he’s lifting me, pressing my body against his erection, grinding me against him.

  Through his shorts and my bathing suit, I feel his heat, his hardness, and I crave the sensation of him inside me, fucking me, mimicking the rough thrusts of his tongue.

  With one last swipe through my mouth he pulls back, rests his forehead on mine. “I want you. Want to remember touching you, being inside of you. Let me make love to you, Baily.”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  Connor sets me down and, ignoring the breakfast dishes, he grips the files and then leads me to the bedroom. I frown until I see him stuff the folders into the living room fireplace and strike a match.

  Hand in hand, we watch the papers ignite. It’s a small gesture, considering with one phone call he could have the same information and more. But the gesture touches me deeply, makes me want to trust him. Not just with my body, but with all my secrets.

  Cupping my face in his hands he murmurs, “You’re all the temptation I’ll ever need.”

  Chapter Six

  Connor studies me and I see it, the look of hunger in his eyes. I’m sure I have a similar expression in mine. So much is still unsettled between us, but he is with me and in this moment, we belong to each other.

  He tumbles me onto the couch, his hand sliding up my inner thigh while his lips seek out the pulse point in my neck. He’s careful not to press all his weight into me, treating me almost as though I’m fragile. Precious and irreplaceable.

  Wrapping my hands around his back, I pull him closer, needing his weight pinning me. He resists at first until I whisper, “I need to feel you.” Then he’s grinding that thick shaft into the notch between my legs, devouring my mouth, his hands hot against my skin.

  He retreats and grips my hair with one hand, tipping my head back so our eyes lock. “Have I come inside you yet?” His fingers cover my mound, massaging my swollen sex through the fabric of my bathing suit.

  “No,” I tilt my pelvis, needing his touch to delve deeper. “I’m not on birth control.”

  Satisfaction glints in his eyes. “Good. When you are, I want you to wait for me.”

  “Wait for you?” Lust fogs my brain so I’m not entirely sure what he means.

  He nods, and a hank of dark hair falls down, giving him a roguish air. “Yes. I want to remember what it feels like when I come inside you for the first time. The look on your face as I take you. The way your pussy milks my cock until I spend. The sounds you make when you feel the hot gush of my seed against your womb. I want those memories, complete with the knowledge that it’s the first time. Save it for me.”

  “Oh, Connor,” I push the stray lock of hair out of his eyes, my heart breaking for him, for the fact he has to ask this of me. “What made you this way?”

  A shadow falls across his face. “We aren’t going to discuss it now.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

  I nod once, accepting his words. Whatever darkness holds part of him in thrall, he doesn’t want to talk about it. After the way he responded to my need for privacy, it doesn’t feel right to push him. Instead, I brush my lips over his in a sweet caress, trying to convey the nonverbal message; I’ll take whatever you want to give me.

  The stiffness leeches out of his shoulders and he tears his lips from mine and groans when I grip his cock, working the rigid flesh through the fabric of his shorts. A smile steals over my face when I feel how hard he is already. “And here I thought you might not want me.”

  His fingers clamps down on my wrist, holds my hand still. “Why would you think that?”

  Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?

  Because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone? Snarkarella offers.

  “It’s not important.” I try to wrestle my hand free and draw him into another of those soul shattering kisses, but he’s having none of it.

  Pinning both my wrists over my head, he shifts his weight so he’s lying alongside of me on the massive couch. “No, I want to know what you mean by that. Have I ever given you a reason to think that I don’t desire you?”

  “Not the other you,” I hastily assure him.

  His eyes narrow. “But me, the way I am now?”

  I bite my lower lip and he sucks in a sharp breath. My sex twinges as I remember the night before. “You’re a little…inconsistent. Like right now.”

  He is genuinely baffled. “I don’t understand.”

  I gesture down our bodies. “Well, we’re talking.” I stres
s the word, hoping he’ll intuit why I find that so unsettling.

  Connor blinks and strong emotion flickers across his features, something almost akin to pain. “You prefer him.”

  “No,” I hastily say, but guilt gnaws at me. Hadn’t I been thinking exactly that a few hours ago?

  He retreats to the other side of the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.” There’s a layer of frost coating his words. My lover is gone and Mr. Edge sits in his place.

  Struggling to right my clothing, I reach for him. “Connor—”

  “And here I was worried about him hurting you, when all the while you’d rather be with him. Perhaps if I concentrate I can resurrect him for you? I’ve never been able to before, but if he knows you’re primed and ready, he might stage a coup.”

  “Stop it!” I yell, smacking the couch cushion in frustration. I’m a heartbeat away from hitting him. “Do you realize how crazy this sounds, that you’re jealous of yourself?”

  His eyes close and he leans back, rubs his forehead like he has a headache. “We should be going soon.”

  “No.” I surprise us both with the word. So far in our relationship I’ve been tagging along for the ride, content to sit back and let Connor steer the ship. But it’s time for me to take a stand.

  He scowls at me. “No?” One would think no one ever contradicted his edicts before. If I wasn’t so sexually frustrated, it might have been funny.

  Standing, I reach for the hemline of my sundress. Before I can overthink my actions, I pull the fabric up over my head and toss it on the couch. My hands are shaking as I reach for the tie to my bathing suit top, but I don’t give myself time to back out as I bare my breasts to him for what is essentially the first time.

  His pupils dilate and I give him credit for tearing his gaze away from my chest long enough to look at my face. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I want you, Connor.” It’s the absolute truth. I do want him, more than I ever imagined I could. “You didn’t make love to me last night and I let that one slide, but we’re not leaving here until I’ve been thoroughly satisfied.”

  Those beautiful, masculine lips curve up as I push the bottom half of my bathing suit down past my knees, letting gravity take it from there. Stepping out of the garment I ask, “Do you have a condom handy?”

  He doesn’t answer me, his eyes are too busy exploring every inch of my body. He’s so different this way, so much more reserved and his scrutiny makes me nervous. Connor the dominant likes my body, but will his reserved personality feel the same?

  “You make me unsure of myself.” Again with the blurting random thoughts out loud. Maybe I have Tourette’s Syndrome.

  His head snaps up and he reaches for my hand, tugging me closer, until I’m straddling him. “How so?”

  I lick my lips, mulling over exactly what I need to say. The last thing I want to do is offend him again. “You’re so…passive when you are like this. As though you don’t care one way or the other if we have sex.”

  “Oh, I care. Believe me, Baily. I care very much.” His hand skims the length of my body, from hip to shoulder and back. “I’m just not used to being aggressive with women. I’ve never bothered to actually pursue one.”

  That sounds so strange to me, until I remember I’m dealing with Connor Edge, the renowned playboy. “Women usually seduce you?”

  “Of course.” His arrogance is justly deserved. He’s handsome, sexy and filthy rich. He probably has to beat women back with a stick every time he walks down the street. He is like a pasha, having his pick from a modern day harem of beauties.

  The thought makes me scowl and his thumb follows the downturn of my mouth. “None of that now. You break the mold in so many ways, Baily. You are worth pursuit. The flaw is mine in not knowing how.”

  His hands curve around my backside where he squeezes my ass. “You’ve been doing just fine.” I mumble as his lips follow the ridge of my collarbone. There’s something so decadent about being naked in his lap when he’s fully dressed. “No more talking now, we just ruin things when we talk.”

  His grin is a shade wicked. “Then I better put my mouth to better use.”

  Tipping me back, he latches on to one pebbled nipple, scraping his teeth lightly over the throbbing peak.

  “Yes,” I gasp when one hand slides over my ass in a sinful caress, before delving two fingers into my saturated pussy from behind. Lifting my hips, I ride the digits, shoving them deeper inside my greedy channel, chasing release.

  With one final lick, he lets go of the tormented nipple. I shiver as cool air surrounds the wet flesh. “So hot and tight,” he murmurs a second before his hot mouth engulfs the other peak. Each tug he makes on my breasts goes straight to my sex, my body connected and overly sensitive. He withdraws his fingers and I groan, as the building orgasm slips away. I’m putty in his hands, and he knows it.

  I gasp as Connor lifts my higher at the same time he slides down in his seat, until his mouth is aligned with my sex. Bracing my hands on the back of the couch, I shiver when he blows against my wet female flesh.

  “So delicate,” Connor nuzzles my mound. His hands are full of my backside so I can’t squirm away. As if I would.

  I’m panting by the time his tongue traces the seam of my labia, shaking with need. The light touch makes me melt, it’s so different then the ravenous way he’s pleasured me before, as though I were the last meal. This touch is more reverent, almost as though he’s in awe of my body and the raw emotion is just as heady.

  Which is better, to be craved or cherished? With Connor Edge, I am both.

  “More,” I beg as he dabbles lightly over my clit. The sweet teasing torment shoves me higher, so damn close yet way too far. His hands hold me still so I can’t buck or writhe against him the way I want to and if I let go of the couch, I’ll lose my balance. Although from the way Connor is exploring my folds, I have no doubt he’d follow me to the floor. Perhaps even through the floor.

  He used more than just his lips and tongue. His jaw rubbed against my opening as he teased my clit. His cheek periodically brushed against the inside of my thigh as he kissed and touched every part of me.

  My eyes teared up, from emotional overload or unspent lust, I’m not sure. Connor rips away the illusion that I have any control of my body, leaving me a quivering mess of shameless need. One finger, still slick from time in my sex presses against my back passage. When he seals his mouth over my clit, I’m done for. Crying his name, I fall apart, my body yielding to his completely. That finger slides past the outer ring of muscle easily, exploring virgin depths and sending me even higher, pushing past limits I didn’t even realize were there.

  “Good girl,” He praises me, fingering my ass gently while nuzzling my thigh. “Give yourself to me.”

  “Yes,” I repeat the word over and over as he eases me down onto the couch, until my face is pressed against the cushions and my backside is in the air. The sound of a sipper sliding down along with the sweat evaporating off my skin makes me shiver. A wrapper rustles and the couch dips as Connor climbs over me.

  His hands slide down my back in a sensual caress and I feel the tip of his cock as it prods against my wet core. The position leaves me so open to him. So vulnerable, with all of my sensitive bits exposed. If not for my recent orgasm, I doubt I could accept it.

  Gripping his shaft, he works it against my blood engorged tissues, wetting himself in my lube and teasing me until I squirm against him. His voice is rough and ragged. “Tell me what you want, Baily.”

  “I want you inside of me,” I whisper and he groans as he sinks deeply inside of me in one, strong, smooth glide.

  I gasp, because the angle hits every hotspot inside of me. He retreats just as slowly before lunging down again, burying that long shaft in my melting core. His body blankets over the top of mine and he cloaks me with his heat. Several more of his tortuously slow strokes, stretch me, fill me, makes me yearn for more. Reaching between
my thighs, I work my clit with the heel of my palm and rest my fingers against the base of his cock. Something about touching there, where we are joined, and feeling him move in and out of my body strikes me as deliciously intimate.

  “Mine,” Connor growls. Here in the throes of passion with all the masks ripped away, I recognize him, that part of me knows the bits of him which transcend titles or faces, because it’s older, stronger, more instinctive. Everything outside of us ceases to exist as he tunnels into me with increasing force.

  I gasp as he bodily lifts me, with his cock still buried deeply in my clenching sex, and sits me on his lap, facing away from him. I’ve never swooned in my life, but his demonstration of strength has me pretty damn close.

  “Ride me,” He buries his face in my hair, hands on my hips to hold me in place.

  The position is awkward at first, with only my toes on the floor and nothing to grip and steady myself. With Connor guiding me, I slowly rise up, until only the blunt head of his cock is still inside me, then push back down, taking him as deep as I can go.

  “Yes, just like that.” One of his hands snakes down to my spread sex. I gasp as he catches my clit between his index and ring finger and taps on the taut bud lightly.

  My confidence grows and I move faster, so my breasts bounce every time I slam down onto him. Each second stretches out into an eternity. The scent of sex cocoons us in our own little world.

  I sink my fingernails into his muscular thighs and he bucks up beneath me, slamming home hard. A few more thrusts like that and I’m done for, coming in a wet rush, coating him with my slick release.

  Connor withdraws and my body sags, limply, slick from sweat and sex. He pushes me onto my back on the couch, spreading my thighs wide and cupping my ass in his big palms. Our eyes lock as he lunges forward, slamming home. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  It’s an effort, but I manage to do as he bids. Connor grunts once in satisfaction, then bucks his hips, shoving his cock forward until the blunt head batters the mouth of my womb. His thrusts are punishing, and exactly what I need from him now.