Page 224 of Entangled

How could he give this up?

Finally, the coarse hair of his thighs is pressing against my ass, and he’s fully seated inside me. We’re both breathing hard, and he grinds his hips against me in a rough, torturous swirl.

I get ready for him to start moving properly now. To fuck me. But he surprises me.

Jayk leans over me, resting his forehead against mine. His face is turbulent, and his eyes are agonized. So, so softly, he brushes my hair back.

Tentatively, I lift my hands and run them over his back, holding him to me, and he starts kissing my cheek, my neck, my jaw. As he does, he rocks his hips, slowly at first, easing the way, and when I moan sharply, the strokes start coming longer, harder, each one quivering with restrained power.

Jayk grunts against my neck, and the sounds that are escaping me are unintelligible. Hardly human. It feels like my whole body is awake, like he’s lit every nerve ending on fire and I’m sizzling on a wire toward something beautiful and explosive.

My heart is running on a parallel line.

Because every calloused stroke against my skin is reverent. His every kiss is a gift, and every thrust a prayer.

Jayk isn’t punishing me anymore.

This is an apology. A liturgy.

A mating.

It’s too much. Jayk looking at me like this, touching me like my skin is too soft for his hands, is bringing me to a sweet, breathless peak. It’s a different kind of orgasm to the one he usually delivers me. Those are merciless and brutal, detonating in me like a bomb and demolishing my body.

This orgasm is from the soul.

Jayk thrusts harder, punching into me as he groans, and every part of my body breaks apart. My orgasm is tender as it rips me apart, and I curve up so I’m clinging around Jayk’s neck as it moves through me.

As I whimper, he starts to shake... and as he comes too, I hear him whisper desperately, “I’ve never had anything for myself before, Eden. I can’t share you.”

My breath catches as he fills me in hot jerks.

And desperately pray that he’s wrong.

Chapter49

Eden

Survival tip #343

Fisticuffs isn’t an appropriate method

of conflict resolution.

Jayk and I stop briefly by the stream to clean up before we head back to Bristlebrook. We’re quiet, lost in our thoughts, and Jayk seems to be moving as if on autopilot, a deep frown on his face.

“I can’t share you.”

I try not to let the words curdle in my stomach. He shared his past with me. It was the most raw and real and vulnerable we’ve ever been together. It wasn’t a goodbye, was it? He wouldn’t tell me all of that, open up like that, only to let me go, would he? Is this how Lucky felt, all those days ago? He was right. I have been a hypocrite.

I need to be better.

Suddenly, his hand finds mine, rough and calloused. I glance over to find him looking at me, his expression serious... but still open. I smile softly at him, and his hand tightens around mine like a weighted blanket.

Breathing deeply, I let the night air fill me, cool and rich and scented with flowers.

I’ve done what I came to do tonight. Things between me and Lucky are wonderful, and I’ve said what I came to say to Jaykob. I don’t know if it’s enough, but if this relationship doesn’t work, it won’t be because he doesn’t know how much I love him. I’ve been as clear as I can be about what I want and how I feel.

It’s his choice.

---