AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Consequently, I’ve had some really good sex.
Or so I thought…
But that night with Edmond in Chicago changed everything. It turned my world upside down. Until Edmond, I had no idea that kissing could open a portal to another world, a magical place full of not only erotic delights, but wonders of the soul and spirit.
We’d only known each other a few hours before we hit the sheets, but Edmond was the one who taught me the difference between sex and making love.
I left his hotel room a changed woman, one who would never again smirk condescendingly when people talked about how much better sex is with feelings involved. In fact, after years with Manny, just the mention of “making love” could bring tears to my eyes. Deep down, in the part of me that sensed I was being held captive—though I never would have pegged demon mind control—I was scared I’d never feel that way again. I feared that one night with Edmond would be my only experience with epic, soul-and-body-shattering sex, and it broke my heart into jagged pieces.
They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but there were nights in that trailer in Nevada, when I’d lie in bed feeling so lost and alone, and wish I’d never met Edmond Blackmore. Knowing what I was missing, knowing that a kiss could make me feel whole instead of hollow, the way Manny’s always did, made the pain so much worse.
Even after our engagement, when kissing became part of our relationship again, being close to Edmond still hurt. He was always holding back, refusing to allow the chemistry between us to ignite in the name of keeping me “safe” from grief when he’s gone.
But I’m already grieving him. I will mourn him every day that he isn’t with me—truly and completely with me—whether we fuck like bunnies until the new year or keep every kiss as chaste as the ones I give my sisters.
I hold his gaze as he rises over me, naked and beautiful and so close to being mine, willing him to look into my eyes and see the truth.
“I don’t want fantasies,” I say, arching into his hands as he cups my breasts, squeezing them tight before he rubs his thumbs over my nipples. “I want the real deal. I want flesh and blood you in my bed, every night.”
His expression sobers, but he doesn’t stop rolling my nipples between his fingers, making it so hard to concentrate on anything except how much I need him inside me. Tiny explosions of desire detonate across my skin and I’m desperate for relief, but I need this more—I need this promise from a man I know keeps his word no matter what.
“Don’t fight it anymore. Don’t fight this, fight us,” I say, a hungry sound bursting from deep in my chest as he reaches down, rubbing the thick tip of his cock against my clit as his knuckles rock deep into the flesh on either side, making it so hard not to come.
But I don’t want to let go until he’s inside me.
“Do you hear me?” I whisper, digging my nails into the sides of his hips.
“Of course, I hear you,” he says, still grinding against me, making my head feel seconds away from floating off my body. “I hang on your every word, Cassandra. I worship the ground you walk on; don’t you realize that by now? I would die for you. In a heartbeat.”
“I don’t want you to die for me,” I say, my throat tight as he bends over me, kissing me hard and deep as I cling to his strong shoulders. “I want you to live for me. Please, Edmond, live for me, be with me, be mine forever, or as fucking close as we can get.”
“I can’t,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “Goddess, Casey, don’t you think I’ve tried? Ask me for something I can give—anything I can give—and it’s yours.” He slides two fingers inside me with one sharp, breath-catching motion that sends pleasure knifing through my core. “But don’t do this. Don’t ask me for this. You’ll break what’s left of my heart.”
“Inside me,” I beg, sensing I won’t get through to him now. I’ll have to try again later, when we’re both less frightened and raw. “I need you. Now, Edmond. Please, I—”
My words end in a satisfied cry as he replaces his fingers with his cock, his perfectly hot, hard, made-for-me cock that I’ve been fantasizing about since that night in Chicago.
Ripples of pleasure flow through me, bathing me in light even though we’re on the floor of a windowless basement. I cling to him, moaning my approval as he begins to move. He fills me like nothing else ever has. My fingers, my vibrator, other men—nothing can compare to Edmond. His size, his shape, the angle, the friction as his thickness stretches me from the inside, I’m sure all of that plays a part, but I swear it’s his soul I feel moving inside me, touching me in ways that defy erotic explanation.
“Edmond, I—” I arch my back, pressing my chest against his as I spread my legs even wider. “More, please, more.”
“Casey,” he says, my name a prayer and a curse as he grinds deeper, closer. “There’s nothing in the world like this, like you. Goddess, sweetheart, you feel so good it hurts.”
“Yes,” I agree, sparks shooting through me from head to toe. They’re delicious sparks, but they sting, too, reminding me with every thrust of his body into mine how long it’s been since I felt this way.
Since I was home, safe, accepted and adored for exactly who I am.
His hand skims up my side, back to my breast, squeezing hard as he circles his hips, as if he senses I need a little bit of roughness. I need it to know this is real, that I’m not about to wake up from another dream of this man and find myself alone in my bed.
“Never going to get enough,” he murmurs, his voice as urgent as the way we’re moving together, straining toward a euphoria I have no doubt we’re going to find. “Never. I want you every second of every day.”
I moan my approval of this plan, but I’m quickly moving beyond language, beyond thought, lost to the magic swirling low between us.
“Yes, love,” he says, sliding his hand under my bottom, tipping my hips until I’m at the perfect angle for him to grind the base of his cock against my clit with every thrust. “Come on my cock, sweetheart. I need to feel you milk me when you come.”
I gasp as everything in me tightens to the breaking point.
But I’m not ready, not yet, not until—
