Sugar on the Edge (19 page)

Savannah opens her door, smiling at me shyly. I stand there a moment… drinking her in. She’s wearing her long, dark hair loose, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Another pair of tight, faded jeans, a heavy cream, cable-knit sweater, and black riding boots with brown leather trim completes the look of a woman that’s set to go on a lazy car ride with me down the coast.

Which was my original intention. Just to get out for a bit… spend some time with her. See what other surprises she can hit me over the head with. See if maybe I can figure her out, look for cracks or falsehoods. Maybe even expose her for a flash in the pan, and maybe not a woman deserving of what may be growing into an obsession for me.

Instead, I’m overwhelmed with desire for her.

Desire, not lust.

Because they are two different things.

Lust suggests a carnal need to slake oneself until there is no further need.

Desire suggests a craving… something that is pervasive and without end. Something that slowly pulls at you… warms you from the inside out and fogs your senses entirely.

This is what I feel for Savannah at this very moment, as she stands before me all sweetly naïve as to what I really want. It’s the first time that I want something that I don’t think I deserve in the slightest, and the selfish part of me… the part of me that doesn’t give a fuck if I end up shredding her in the process, decides to take it.

Stepping into her house, I crowd into her, causing her to step back a few feet so I can I follow her in. I shut the door behind me and bend down, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around my waist. Her arms automatically come up to grip my shoulders, and I take the opportunity when her mouth opens in surprise to kiss her, slipping my tongue inside.

This is the third time I’ve kissed her.

But the brotherly kiss I first gave her last night, and the slightly hotter kiss that I followed up with on the heels of the first one, shouldn’t even count.

No, this is truly our first kiss and I go in deep and possessing, demanding she yield to me.

She does… immediately, her fingers digging into the muscles at my shoulder. Her mouth moves against mine, her tongue battling… tasting oh so sweet, feeling divinely warm. A tiny little moan slithers up from her throat and coats my tongue with her own desire, and I start walking through her living room.

I pull my mouth slightly away, but I leave my lips resting lightly against hers. “Where’s your bedroom, Sweet?”

She leans in and runs her lips up my neck, one hand going up to the back of my head to grip my hair tightly. “Straight back, second door on the left.”

Savannah’s fingers tighten in my hair, and she tugs my head to the side as I walk down her hallway. Her tongue flicks against my earlobe and then she bites it, causing me to groan at her boldness. I may have to change her nickname to Spicy, because she’s not all sweet I’m finding.

I make it through her bedroom door, briefly taking note of the pale, yellow walls and white eyelet and lace comforter on her bed, complimented with a slew of white-and-yellow little pillows with lace trim and silk bows.

So sweet.

So Savannah.

I walk to the end of the bed, lift a knee up to crawl on it with her still clinging to me, and then bend forward until her back hits the mattress. She releases her hold on me, laying her head back and looking up at me with hot eyes.

“I thought we were going for a ride,” she teases me, and I find I like being teased.

“Change of plans,” I tell her as I sit back on my haunches, studying her loveliness. Prior to this moment, I was trying to lump Savannah into a category based on my experiences and hurts. She was either the heroine or anti-heroine type, and now I’m not sure what she is.

She’s just something… else.

I think about what she told me last night… about the hell she went through after nearly being raped. I wonder if the horror of that moment… when she had no control over her situation, when she was clawing at her would-be rapist with a fevered desire to protect her innocence… I wonder if those memories come back to her when another man touches her.

It makes me doubt what I’m about to do to her, and my selfishness takes a back seat.

“Do you want me to do this?” I ask her hesitantly.

“It depends… what are you about to do?” she asks coyly, and without her saying another word, I can tell by the look on her face, by her shy words that are tinged with longing, that she wants whatever I give her.

But I need to make sure. Lifting my hand, I skim my fingers up her neck and wrap my hand around her throat lightly. I use my thumb to stroke her jawline for a moment, then lift my hand and trail my fingers back down her neck and to her collarbone just peeking out from her sweater. “I’m going to possess you, Sweet. I’m going to take my time doing it. I’m not going to let you up out of this bed until I’ve had my fill of you, and honestly… I’m not sure how long that will take. I’m going to control your body… make you scream… make you writhe against the bed, love. I want you to beg me for it… and only if your words are sweet enough for my ears, will I give it to you. So, I ask again… do you want me to do this?”

She never hesitates… not even for the half second it takes her to suck in air between her teeth. “God, yes.”

Her complete surrender slays me. Leaning forward, I place my hands on the bed at her shoulders and kiss her again. For the fourth time, and it’s even better. Her lips are so soft, her breath tasting of mint and sugared coffee. Her tongue is at turns bold, then shy, and as I move my mouth over hers insistently, I find it doesn’t take much for her to submit to me wholly.

Pulling back from her once again, I scoot off the bed. “You have way too many clothes on for what I have planned.”

“Better remedy that,” she says with a grin and sits up to start pulling her sweater over her head.

Placing my hand at the center of her chest, I push her back down on the bed. “Uh-uh. Let me do this. Let me unwrap you in my own way.”

She immediately lies back on the bed, bringing one hand to rest across her stomach and the other thrown over her head. She watches me with curious eyes filled with soft yearning. “Okay,” she whispers. “But will you undress first?”

“I thought I was in control,” I chastise her gently with a warning look.

“Please.”

Just one word.
Please.
And I give into her immediately.

Kicking my tennis shoes off, I reach down and quickly remove my socks. I’ve never stripped for a woman before… not at her request, and sadly, I find there’s no sexy way to remove one’s socks and shoes. But once they’re out of the way, she gives me a soft command. “Your shirt… take it off.”

Smiling darkly at her, I lift the hem of my dark gray Henley and lift it slowly up my torso. For the first time ever, I’m glad that I work out. I’m glad that she’ll watch me as I reveal myself to her, and I hope she finds pleasure in looking at my body.

I’m temporarily blinded when I pull the shirt over my head, but I hear her loud and clear when she sighs in pleasure. As I toss the shirt aside, I find her eyes pinned to my chest. I stand there… absolutely still, and watch her watch me. Her eyes roam… over my stomach, my ribs, my chest… my shoulders, my arms, then back to my stomach again, before dropping down a bit lower where she looks hungrily at my hard-on straining against my jeans.

My hands come up and pop the button, and she stares at me harder. When I hesitate, she never gives me a moment of respite and says, “Hurry.”

Oh, fuck… she’s seducing the shit out of me and has no clue. The fact that my sweetly timid Savannah is demanding me to undress… so she can see my straining cock, causes my head to fill with a thick fog of primal lust.

Taking a deep breath to control my raging pulse, I unzip my fly and push my jeans and underwear all the way down. The elastic snags momentarily over my erection, and then it’s freed where it stands up tall under her gaze. I clumsily kick my jeans off and away from me, and then stand up straight before her with my hands loose at my side.

Savannah just stares at my cock, her eyes wide, and I realize even though I fucked her brilliantly yesterday, she’s never had a clear look at my completely nude form before. I can tell by the look on her face that she likes it, and I have to restrain myself not to fall on top of her.

“You’re stunning,” she says reverently, and my knees almost buckle from her praise.

“Will you touch yourself?” she whispers. Even though her words are barely audible, they are delivered with command. I have no clue where Savannah learned how to say these things, or where this boldness is coming from, but I’m becoming powerless against it. I think I may do anything she asks of me.

My hand almost rises to do her bidding, then I shake my head and blink away the fog. I give her a dark smile and reach down to one of her booted feet. Squeezing her calf underneath the soft leather, I tell her, “Not another word out of that beautiful mouth of yours. I’m in control.”

“But—”

“Not another word,” I tell her with a hard stare and squeeze her leg. “If you do, I’m going to stuff my cock in your mouth to keep you quiet.”

Savannah’s eyes close and her body shudders in pleasure over the thought. I have to bite the inside of my cheek until I almost draw blood to stop myself from crawling up her body and doing just what I threatened.

When her eyes open back up, she just nods at me and keeps her lips sealed firmly shut.

All I can think about, at this very moment, is sucking on Gavin’s cock. His threat to shut me up by putting it in my mouth causes lust to course through me, and I can feel heavy wetness between my legs. I’ve never given a man a blow job before… never wanted to. Not until this very moment. I briefly think about pushing up off the bed and latching my mouth on to him.

That would show the supremely confident Gavin Cooke, who seems content to put me in a narrow category, what he’s dealing with.

The only thing that stops me is the promise in his eyes that he is going to deliver something to me that is going to probably shatter me to pieces. I’m quite sure… when we’re both done and spent… I won’t ever be the same.

So I hold my tongue, hopeful that it will have a chance to lash at that beautiful piece of velvet and steel at some time in the future.

I feel so beautiful… so wanton… so free, as I lay here on the bed, fully clothed while the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on stands before me utterly naked. He’s almost blinding in his magnificence, and the darkness that seems to coat a good portion of his character attracts me as much as his physique and beautiful face.

I was so confused last night when he left me. I was sure he wanted me… wanted to make love… fuck me again, whatever you call it. A man like Gavin has urges that I know he gives in to over and over again.

It was almost demoralizing when he stepped away, but when he told me I was doing everything right, it made sense to me. I was being me, and Gavin was attracted to that. It didn’t matter if I was a heroine or not. There was something about me that had caught his eye, and I was going to see where it took us both.

Gavin unzips one boot and pulls it off, before doing the same to the other. He quickly takes off the thick, wool socks I’m wearing and tosses them casually aside.

His gaze comes to mine and his gray eyes are so dark, they almost seem black.

“You can’t imagine the things I want to do to you, Savannah.”