Page 20 of Shadow's Edge

I’d known them for years. Known them as level-headed, mentally strong men. They were built for war. Seeing themcrack under this, that was hard.

And then there was Preacher. I was noticing things about him, things that didn’t sit right. Had he changed? Had healwaysbeen like this, and I just hadn’t seen it before? I didn’t know.

But the second Jagger’s lips found mine, all of it—the questions, the doubts, the heaviness—I let it go. Becausethiswas something solid, something I couldfeel.

His mouth moved over mine, demanding and urgent, but then slowed, and the kiss deepened. My fingers curled into the leather of his cut as I pressed closer, feeling the solid heat of his body against mine.

“I need you,” I whispered, my hands going to his shoulders, pushing the cut off of him.

Jagger didn’t hesitate. His hands slid beneath my shirt, skimming up my sides, sending a shiver through me as he pulled the fabric over my head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened,tracing over my skin, lingering on the tattoo that ran down my front.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his fingers brushing over the ink. “Just when I think there can’t be more to you that turns me on, I uncover evenmore.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach at the rawness in his voice. I let my hands explore him in return, gripping the hem of his shirt and dragging it up, forcing him to break away for a second as I pulled it over his head.

I’d seen his body before, but I hadn’t gotten thechancetoreallyexplore. And right now, I planned to take my time.

His skin was a canvas of contradiction—his arms bare, a stark contrast to the intricate scrolling tattoos that covered his chest and shoulders. It struck me as odd, but it also fascinated me. Each design told a story, one I didn’t yet know but wanted to trace, to memorize.

Leaning forward, I let my tongue follow the inked lines, savoring the taste of him. His muscles tensed beneath my hands, a shudder rippling through his body. I smirked against his skin.Good.

My hands roamed, sliding up his sides, then across the hard ridges of his back, feeling every powerful shift of muscle. He was solid, raw strength under my fingertips.

I dragged my tongue over his nipple, and that was the moment he broke.

“Fuck this,” he growled.

The next thing I knew, I was airborne. A startled gasp left my lips as I landed on the bed, Jagger’s weight pressing me into the mattress a second later. My pulse pounded, not with fear, but with something much, much more dangerous.

This was new. Normally, men saw that I was in shape, that I could hold my own, and just went with the flow. They let me lead. Jagger wasn’t most men.

Andfuck, I loved it.

His eyes raked over me like a predator surveying his kill, dark and filled with wicked intent. The bed dipped as he shifted, kneeling between my legs before pushing to his feet. Towering over me. Watching me.

I held his gaze, reaching behind my back to undo my bra clasp. His fingers went to his belt, his movements slow, deliberate.

A challenge.

Rolling my shoulders forward, I let the lace straps slip down my arms before tossing the fabric aside, adding to the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Jagger’s eyes darkened further, his jaw flexing. His belt came undone with a sharp metallicclink, but instead of dropping his jeans, he leaned down, gripping my boots. With a quick yank, he pulled them off, not bothering with the laces. I never undid them—just in case I needed to move fast, to disappear soundlessly. I’d never been so fucking grateful for that habit.

His hands found my hips next, pushing me back onto the mattress. My breath caught as he flicked open the button on my pants, the rough scrape of his knuckles against my skin sendingsparks through me. With one smooth motion, he stripped them away, taking my panties with them.

A sharp inhale, that was the only sound he made before my pants went flying.

“Fucking hell.” His voice was rough, raw. His fingers brushed over my inner thighs, spreading me wider beneath him. “I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach, ay pulse pounded in my ears. I lifted one leg, sliding my foot up the inside of his thigh until it rested against the open fly of his jeans.

“Off,” I ordered.

One brow lifted, a smirk ghosting over his lips. “I think I’d rather enjoy you first.”

I clenched my jaw. Under different circumstances, I would’ve let him. Would’ve taken the time to let him do whatever the fuck he wanted. But we didn’thavetime.

“We can do that another time,” I countered, my voice steady despite the fire burning inside me. “Right now, we don’t know if someone’s going to hammer on that door with an update. We could be needed any second. Do you really want to risk that?”

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