Riding The Edge - Elise Faber Page 0,58
“I don’t want you to love me like I’m fragile, amore.”
The endearment made my heart pulse. “How do you want me to love you?”
Her mouth curved. “Like it’s our first time and our last. Like you want to hurry up and get to everything and like you want to kiss me inch by inch by inch.” She touched my cheek, water streaming down her hair, dripping off her body and onto mine. “Like we only have ten minutes and like we have a century.” Her lips came close. “But not like I’m fragile. Never like I’m fragile.”
My arms closed around her, brought her flush against me. “God, I love you.”
Her eyes widened, but since declaring my adoration for this woman hadn’t exactly been on my radar, and I wasn’t sure if the shock on her face was good or bad, I took her words to heart.
I kissed her.
Like I’d just handed my heart to her on a silver platter.
Because that was what it felt like.
As though she knew what I was feeling, Ava placed her hand on my chest, just over where my heart was thundering. “I love you, too,” she murmured, pressing back slightly. “Which is why I think I was so desperate to keep you away. I fell for you a long time ago.” Her teeth bit into her bottom lip.
Unsure.
She was unsure and yet so fucking brave. Because she’d let the walls down.
Because she’d let me in.
“I fell for you longer ago.”
Amusement replaced nerves. “Yeah? Well, what if I said I fell for you first?”
I nipped her lips. “Should we have a competition to decide who fell in love first?”
A grin. “Maybe.”
“Later,” I murmured, carefully lifting her off me and setting her on the blanket. A second later, I was on top of her, kissing my way down her throat, nipping at the spot I’d discovered two years ago, just beneath her right collarbone, that was excruciatingly sensitive.
She shivered, fingers tunneling into my hair, holding me close. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything.”
Just as I’d remember every moment of this day. Love in her eyes, pink on her cheeks. Rivulets of water streaming down those delicious curves. Whiskey on her tongue. Goose bumps on her skin as I kissed my way between her thighs, pushed her underwear down her legs. A heel pressing into my spine.
The way she cried out my name when I licked her.
“Oh—” She broke off, hands falling to her sides, head thrown back. “That’s—”
“Mmm,” I murmured, circling her clit with my tongue, pressing firmly, sinking a finger into the tight wet heat, and keeping the pressure and rhythm consistent as she arched against me, as her hands clenched, as—
She burst into flames, convulsing around my finger.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” I said, moving up her body and kissing her lips, coaxing her down with gentle strokes between her legs. My cock was a hard brand in my shorts, certainly obvious, as my clothing was completely soaked through and plastered against my body.
Her hand trailed lazily up and down my back. “It’s not fair you’re that good at that.”
“I think it’s very fair,” I told her. “I like eating you out.”
“Permission granted,” she said. “Anytime you want.”
I laughed, pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to take—”
She flipped me in an obscenely tricky move, flopping me over onto my back, rising onto her knees as she straddled my hips. “Your ank—”
Her lips found mine, her tongue thrusting into my mouth, her hands slipping beneath the fabric of my T-shirt.
And I never finished my sentence.
Not when she tugged up on the shirt, and I helped her yank it over my head. Not when she reached behind her and unbuttoned my shorts, shifting so she could tug them down enough to free my cock. Not when she put her hand on me and stroked firmly.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I groaned, placed my hand over hers, stilling her, lest I embarrass myself.
She rose up, slowly sank down.
Wet heat on the tip of my cock.
The barest thread of sanity laced through me, and I gripped her hips, stopping her downward motion, even though every cell in my body was telling me to yank her down, to press deep inside, to move and move and move. “Cond—”
Her fingers pressed over my lips. “IUD.” She smiled.
I nipped her fingertips, guided her hips down instead of up.
And . . . fuck that was everything. Tight and wet, hot and deep. Sliding into her until her pelvis rested on mine. She shifted, pressing closer, a moan rumbling up