Page 19 of Close to the Edge

“Do it,” Tess whispers as I cram my fingers into her panties. I’m clumsy and overwhelmed as hell, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Oh my god, do it. Please. Touch me, Ash.”

My groan reverberates across the mountainside, my fingertips finding her slick heat and rubbing her there. A cold breeze ruffles the trees, and I suck in a ragged, pine-scented breath. “That’s it, angel. Say my name.”

Tess squirms against my fingers. “Ash.”

Something skitters nearby across the cracked dirt trail, and my heartbeat slams in my ears.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Shouldn’t touch her like this.

Shouldn’t kiss my buddy’s little sister like she’s oxygen and I’m starving for air.

But I’m high above sea level, halfway to the clouds, and the longer I stay in this area, the longer I’m around this woman, the harder it is to remember why it’s so wrong.

“Mine.” I crowd close, plastering Tess’s squirming body against the rock, and press two fingers past her entrance. She gasps and spreads her thighs wider, writhing against the intrusion like it’s the best thing she’s ever felt. “Tess. Angel. You’re mine, do you hear?”

Her voice is wobbly. “Uh-huh.”

If only for tonight—I’m done staying away.

Nine

Tess

Nothing has ever felt as good as my brother’s best friend pinning me against this boulder and stroking two thick fingers inside me. Seriously: nothing. Because as Ash looms above, so strong and tall and broad, blocking out the stars with his muscled bulk, I swear it feels so good a tear slips from my eye.

All of it: his hands on me. His kiss; his muttered curses; the way he groans like he’s in pain when I clamp down on his fingers. His soap and musk scent. It all winds me tighter and tighter until I’m quivering in his hold, hardly believing this is happening. It’s all too good to be true.

This man is a mountain in his own right, so at home in this landscape, and I’m claiming this territory as my own, damn it. Planting an imaginary flag right in the center of his rugged chest.

Mine.

“That feel good?” Ash tests out different angles and pressures as he touches me, clearly working from theory rather than practice. But you know what? I love that. Love that I’m the first woman he’s ever touched like this; love that we’re sharing this new experience together.

Makes me want to preen and flick my hair, bragging to the world that he chose me. Makes me want to rake his chest with my fingernails, marking him with reddened stripes.

Besides, it’s working. Man, it’s really working. Without any prior moves, it’s like Ash is learning the specific, personalized moves to make me cry out, and no other. He’s tailor made for me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says now, breath hot and muggy against my ear. He’s devolving into primal urges; getting rougher and growly. “The first time I laid eyes on you, I was done. Outside Flint’s, remember? Christ, I wanted you so badly already. Would’ve sold my soul for a single kiss.”

Ash shoves his fingers deeper and I cry out, toes curling.

“I still would, Tess. I’d crawl over broken glass if it meant touching your hair. I’d risk life and limb for a single minute inside you.”

His words, his heat, the wet, rhythmic plunge of his fingers—they all chase me higher and higher until I’m clutching at his shoulders, fingernails digging into his rock-hard muscle, so desperate for some relief that my teeth ache.

“Are you gonna come for me?” Two thick fingers twist inside me, rubbing against the most sensitive spots. “Will you show me how that feels? Let me hear the little sounds you make. Come on, angel.”

Can’t speak to say yes. Can’t do anything except give a jerky nod, eyelids fluttering, and gasp as Ash touches me mercilessly, working me into a whimpering heap.

God.

So. Good.

“Show me,” he says, low voice ringing with command, and I’m helpless to deny his direct order. My pussy clamps down on Ash’s fingers, and my skin flashes hot, and I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming. Blood rushes in my ears as I swirl into the abyss.

“There she is.” Ash keeps stroking, keeps pumping. Stares at me in the darkness with moonlight reflecting in his eyes as I fall apart, shuddering with pleasure. Even in the gloom, he looks awed. “There you are. So fucking beautiful, Tess.”

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