Page 137 of Edge of Unbroken

“I love you,” I whisper.

He takes my hand and moves it to his lips, then kisses my palm gently. “I love you more,” he says, then glides his hands up my back, unhooks my bra, and slips the last strap off my shoulder. He lets his eyes roll over my exposed chest, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue like he’s about to devour me. Undiluted hunger resides in his features, making me shiver with need for him.

Our lips find each other again—easily, naturally—though I get to taste him only briefly before he once again begins to kiss my face, then my neck. He forges a path to my chest while his hands glide down my sides, centimeter by centimeter, feeling each rib, arriving at my hips. He doesn’t linger. His left hand moves to undo first the button, then the zipper of my jeans while his tongue softly sweeps down my chest. I reach into his hair when he kisses a hot path between my breasts and down to my belly button, lowering himself onto his knees while I stand in front of him, watching his every move through hazy eyes. I am so aroused by his touch, his mouth, his movements.

His hands tug on the waistband of my jeans, and he pulls them down to my ankles, allowing me to step out of them.

He chuckles admiringly. “I’ve been dying to see you in this,” Ronan says, grazing his hand over my bare butt cheek before hooking his thumb under the waistband of my thong. A breathy moan escapes my mouth, and my eyes shut as Ronan begins to kiss my bare legs, alternating between left and right. He reaches his right hand up, cupping my breast, outlining it.

“Ohh,” I breathe when his thumb grazes over my hard nipple in the exact moment that his lips kiss me against my white lace thong. His warm breath seeps through the barely-there fabric and causes hot arousal to pool in the same spot. He presses his face against my Venus mound, inhaling deeply before he releases a deep, sensual growl. And though I would have never imagined it possible, his animalistic gesture sends a shockwave of need through my body.

“Ran,” I moan, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as I let my head fall back. I need more, and he senses it. In one quick movement, Ronan stands to lift me up and onto the bed. He lays me back against the comforter before gently tugging my thong off me and dropping it to the floor, then situating himself between my legs. He suddenly seems to be everywhere at once, his right hand rolling the sensitive peak of my breast between his thumb and index finger while the other is in his warm mouth, laved by his soft tongue. I can’t express how much I’ve missed this, how much I’ve missedhim.

“Baby, I have to taste you,” he whispers against my skin, his tone a mixture of plea and command, then descends between my thighs.

I move my hands to his hair, my eyes shut tightly, waiting, anticipating. I feel his warm breath against me, then whimper loudly when the flat of his tongue sweeps slowly over my aching flesh. He does it once, twice, then again and again, from my entrance up to my clit. I’ve never done or felt anything like this before, and I climb rapidly, gasping for air at the sensations caused by Ronan’s warm mouth and wet tongue.

I’m out of my mind with arousal, grinding my hips rhythmically with the strokes of his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” Ronan groans against me. He moves his hands under and around my thighs, urging my legs farther apart, spreading me. And though I’m so vulnerable to him, so exposed, I don’t feel anything but safe. “Fuck,” he groans again and drags his tongue along the length of my needy skin and over that hypersensitive little bundle of nerves.

I must be positively gushing with wetness by now, desperate want pooling in my stomach and between my legs. My hands are in his hair, tugging at the roots, my fingers digging into his scalp. Nothing exists but the sensation of Ronan’s mouth between my thighs. He increases the pressure, his tongue pushing against my swollen bud, circling and flicking it, and my hips buck with pleasure, seeking more.

“Don’t stop,” I plead, my voice barely a whimper.

But he wouldn’t dream of stopping now. Instead, he moves his left hand to meet his mouth and slowly slips first one, then two fingers inside me. He feels me like that, worshiping my body, his fingers slow, deep, and deliberate while his tongue continues its sensual dance against my sensitive flesh.

God, I never imagined sex would feel this incredible, never anticipated being able to trust someone like I trust Ronan. I’m lost in a void, only feeling Ronan’s hands and mouth as he tastes me, absolutely devours me. He deepens his strokes then, his fingers curling against my inner walls and moving in a come-hither sort of manner. He’s stimulating me in a way that causes my core to clench around him and my vision to blur as the pleasure, the want builds with dizzying speed. I want more of it, chasing that sweet, hot release, and move my hips in rhythm with his tongue and fingers, which are as slick as my aching flesh. “So damn wet for me,” Ronan groans, then carefully sucks my clit into his mouth. Just like that I reach the apex, and the waves that had been building crash over me. My breathing deepens, breathy moans bursting from my lips as powerful, all-consuming ecstasy repeatedly pulses through me. His tongue and fingers urge me on, prolonging the bliss.

I regain control only for a moment, my face flushed and heated. “I need to feel you,” I whisper.

Ronan gives me a heart-stopping smile, his lips glistening with my arousal, his pupils blown wide with need. He pushes off the bed long enough to undo his jeans and drop them, along with his navy boxer briefs, to the floor.

I’ll never tire of seeing him naked. I haven’t seen a lot of guys naked in my life, but I know perfection when it’s in front of me. And Ronanisperfection. His manhood is erect, jutting out at me, thick, and long, and hard. My eyes roll down the hard lines of his sculpted abs and follow that perfect v-cut that leads like an arrow to his groin and his hardness. I allow my gaze to rest on it for a moment then travel along the hard shaft all the way to his tip. His skin is taut, and I note the clear drops of fluid already leaking from him. I can’t help but lick my lips. He’s delicious, and my need for him feels positively primal.

He moves onto the bed and positions himself between my legs. I reach between us, eager to touch him before our bodies become one. The silky feel of his skin never ceases to surprise me, the contrast stark with his sharp lines, muscles cut as if carved from stone, every ridge, dip, and rise perfectly shaped. It’s a lethal combination. I grasp his erection, noting his size. If I hadn’t felt him before, I’d be scared. I’m still a little nervous. After all, it’s been months since we’ve had sex, but any momentary apprehension is drowned out by my longing for him, for his body. I circle my thumb over the head, coating it with his pre-cum. His breath stutters and he jerks in my hand. It turns me on so much to know I have the power to make him feel like this, that it’s far from one sided. As much power as he has over me, I can make him lose control just as easily.

I stroke him for a moment, dragging my fist tightly down and back up his shaft and over the tip. His cock jumps in my hand when I carefully squeeze his tip. I swear I feel him grow harder still. “Baby, please,” he begs with shallow inhales. “Let me feel you.”

I withdraw my hand only to move it to his back. He looks at me through hooded, glossy eyes as he lowers his body onto mine, then begins to push inside me.

I’m beyond ready for him, and I can see in his face that he is, too. But he draws it out, pushing inside me agonizingly slowly, savoring me like I’m savoring every millimeter, every thick, rock-hard inch of him. I feel him stretch me, fill me, while I squeeze around him. It’s almost too much, yet not nearly enough.

He pauses, causing me to open my eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks, waiting for my response.

I whimper a tiny “yeah,” then moan loudly, uncontrollably when, with one hard thrust, Ronan buries his full length deep inside me, the sensation a mix between indescribable pleasure and delicious pain.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Ronan groans against my neck, his voice husky and raw, sending jolts of need through me. He sounds high—drunk on us—his words slow, drawn out. We’re still for a moment, staying exactly like that as my body adjusts to him, working to accommodate his size.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes so quietly I almost miss it. He begins to move again, his thrusts long and slow like he’s pacing himself, trying to make it last for as long as he can possibly stand it.

I reach my arms around him, pulling myself up and against his chest. I’m desperate to minimize the space between our bodies. I breathe against his neck, moaning with each delicious thrust of his hips. His skin is hot, damp as I move my hands across it, coming to rest in the spot between his shoulder blades.

“You’re so damn tight,” he breathes, rocking into me, his entire body flexed and hard yet his skin soft as silk. If I could melt into him, I would, but instead I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. I know he’s holding back on me, always and forever careful not to overstep my boundaries, always and forever moving at my pace.

“Harder, Ran,” I say, digging my fingers into his back.

His eyes lock on mine as if searching for my permission to lose himself to me, to forego all restraint.

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