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“I’m sorry,” Jos said again, but before that self-loathing could creep into her voice, Eden stopped her.
“Don’t apologize for the things you had to do to survive.”
“I don’t like to talk about my past, and the future isn’t something that we…that we can…it’s not going to work.”
“It is,” Eden argued furiously, like she could make Jos believe her just like that.
“I feel like every inch of my skin is flayed open and bleeding.”
“It’s not,” Eden soothed. “Let me show you it’s not.”
She needed Jos to tell her yes. To give her permission. She wasn’t going to force her touch on her. She couldn’t soothe the hurts that were bone deep by a brush against the skin, not if Jos didn’t want it. She couldn’t offer comfort if she wasn’t willing. She needed to hear it.
Jos was moving into her, grasping her face and bringing her close, before the rush of a word, yes, fell from her lips. The word burst between them, a star beam of light, a bright, full moon, powerful and hopeful. When their lips met it was beyond anything Eden had ever known, not just feeling or connection, but an unbreakable bond. It was surrender, but not her own. That wasn’t what Jos wanted or craved now.
“Yes,” Jos whispered again. “Please, Eden. I need you.”
Chapter 20
Jos
Those were her words, a plea and a prayer falling from her mouth, and even though she could barely believe it, Jos knew they were true. She needed Eden more than she’d ever needed anything. What she needed was to harden her heart. To go back to that place inside herself where she wasn’t scared or vulnerable, where she wasn’t that sad little girl, and nothing could ever hurt her again.
I can’t fall in love with her. I won’t fall in love with her. Love doesn’t have to be on the table. Even as she thought it, in her aching, wounded heart, Jos knew she was a liar. Everyone loved Eden. She was easy to love. She was easy to fall for. She was easy to want.
And Jos did. She wanted her. She wanted Eden to be hers.
Eden kissed her sweetly, so sweetly. Like she wanted to give her all the peace and quiet and calm she had in every atom of her being. She wanted to turn that physical and transmute it into that seal of their lips. Jos couldn’t take it. She wanted all that sweetness. She wanted to open herself up to it and feel it, but she wanted more.
Eden’s hand cupped Jo’s face. She kept kissing her gently, until Jos was ready to tell her that she needed more. To ask her for more with the hungry movements of her lips and her tongue and the roll of her hips that was changing from a swell to a tidal wave.
She waited for the surge to come over her. The craving of power, of wanting to be in control, of needing to be in control because she had to control something because that was the only thing she could do in her life. She had to take that power back for herself, so she wasn’t a victim. She had to take and take and take and maybe that would fill up the endless hole inside herself, but it never came. It never materialized. That hole felt small and far away, and she wasn’t trying to fuck herself back into feeling something she could bear. She felt it. Far more than she’d ever felt before, and it was painful and horrible, and somehow, it wasn’t terrible at all. It didn’t crush her. It didn’t kill her.
Jos gasped into Eden’s mouth and the kiss intensified, until they were devouring each other. It was almost like Eden was afraid to touch her, so Jos captured her hand and guided it down, until it rested on her breast. Eden acted out of instinct. She cupped Jos’ breast, rolling her fingers over the nipple until it was beaded and hard and Jos’ hips lurched forward, slamming into Eden’s. She kissed her fervently, like it was going to be her last chance, with more passion than she knew was possible for her to feel.
All of it was echoed lower, in the way Eden toyed with her breast, so sweetly and innocently, wanting to give her pleasure without the roughness, without the pain, and the way her hips rolled against Jos’ own, searching for purchase, searching for a way to ease the tension and pressure and sheer delight building there.
Jos grabbed Eden’s hips and did what she had never done with anyone. She swung her around so that she was on top. Eden straddled her with ease, staring down at her with wide, sparkling eyes and swollen lips.
“Is this okay?” She paused, breathing hard. “If it’s not okay, we don’t have to—”
“It’s okay,” Jos said firmly. She didn’t honestly know it was okay until the words were out, and then she knew they were true. She was on the bottom and Eden was on top and she was okay. She wasn’t going to lose her shit. It was okay to give up this much control, and maybe more.
“Okay.” Eden bent her head and cupped Jos’ breast. She suckled her nipple into her mouth.
Jos’ head fell back against the pillow, grinding into it. She was wet everywhere. Her wet hair there at the pillow. Eden’s wet, warm mouth and her soft lips working her nipple in a maddening rhythm. She was wet between her legs, soaking there, slicking down her thighs. She wanted to close her eyes and revel in the sensations, all brand new and not nearly so frightening as she’d always thought they would be, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop watching Eden. She was transfixed.
Eden trailed kisses lower, over Jos’ ribs and belly. She didn’t stop until she was between her legs. She looked up at Jos, not asking for permission, but asking her to watch, and it was so dirty and sexy that Jos could have come just from the expression of awe and rapture on Eden’s face.
Eden cupped Jos’ breast with one hand, plying her nipple, pinching just enough to make Jos moan, and with the other, she spread Jos apart for her mouth. She didn’t kiss her gently or easily or warm her up or work her up into anything. That wasn’t what Jos needed, and it wasn’t what Eden needed either. She ate at her furiously, licking her, suckling her clit, darting her tongue inside Jos’ entrance, kissing her with open mouth kisses that were wet and noisy and so deliciously erotic that Jos’ hips rose off the bed and slammed back down over and over.
“God, Eden…” She couldn’t catch her breath. She was nothing but craving and need, and all of it made sense. Everything in her life, every shitty
part and the horrible pain, the moments of fear and hunger and all the loathing and the hiding, made sense because she wasn’t hiding anymore. She wasn’t in pain. She wasn’t tortured, at least not in that awful way. She was spiraling and falling, yearning and aching, and so broken wide open for Eden to see, and that was the way she should be. She couldn’t take it back even if she wanted to, because Eden had crawled up inside her chest and she was wrecking her and healing her.
Eden drove Jos crazy, drove her the brink, and then, when her hands tangled in those long, raven tresses and yanked hard, slamming Eden’s face down against her, holding her there, she made her come. She made her come with two fingers inside her and her tongue on her clit and her whole presence, her joy, her spirit, her safety, wrapped around her like a warm, invisible blanket.
After, Eden raised her head and kissed her way back up Jos’ body. She stretched out overtop of her, curve to curve, their skin warm and sticky, their breaths hot and heavy and out of sync, and she kissed her. Jos loved the taste of herself on Eden’s lips. She loved the way her muscles shook, and her body trembled beneath Eden’s.
