J. Geissinger: Edge of Oblivion

A little spasm wracked her body, and he looked down into her face. Her eyes were huge, unblinking, filled with tears. He gently turned her to face him.

“Eliana,” he whispered, contrite. Had he done something wrong?

She turned her head and gazed into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice choked.

His heart melted. A single tear tracked down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb.

“Silly girl,” he said gently, “you’re not supposed to cry at the start of a date. Cry at the end, like I do.”

“You, cry?” she scoffed, sniffling and wiping away the moisture around her eyes. She took a breath and straightened her shoulders. “I find that very hard to believe, Mr. Kick Ass.”

D stared down at her in mock indignation. “Mr. Kick Ass? I’ll have you know I’m very tenderhearted, Ms. High and Mighty.”

It was her turn to feign affront. “High and Mighty? I’ll have you know I’m very humble and meek.”

He stepped closer, smiling. “Really? Meek , are you?”

She tilted her head and gazed up at him through her lashes, playful. “Well. Meek for a princess, anyway.”

“Hmmm. That’s what I thought.”

He trailed his fingers over the side of her face and jaw, because he wanted to, because he could, because he loved seeing the effect his touch had on her. Even in the dark he saw her flush.

“And I’m sure you don’t date , in any traditional sense of the word,” she said, less steady than before.

His hand slipped around the back of her neck, and he drew her against him. Her hands lifted to rest lightly against his chest.

“Now why would you think that?” he murmured, lowering his head to hers.

Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt as his lips brushed her temple, slid barely touching down to her jaw. He paused at the corner of her mouth.

“Because there are too many women throwing themselves at your feet to bother with dating,” she breathed, her lips barely brushing his. “You can just take them to bed and dispense with all the formalities.”

He fisted his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and gently pulled her head back so she was forced to look up, into his eyes. “There is only one woman I want to take to bed,” he said, his voice husky, all teasing gone, “and I’m ready and willing to provide any kind of formality she requires, for however long she requires, in order to do so.”

She stared at him with dark intensity, all bedroom eyes and Mona Lisa lips, moonlight weaving blue magic in her hair.

“No snappy answer for that, Principessa ?”

“Well,” she murmured, bemused, “I can’t quite figure out if that’s incredibly offensive or incredibly hot.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Don’t over-think it. Just go with your gut.”

Her gaze dropped to his lips. Her cheeks heated. “Incredibly hot, then,” she whispered, and rose up on her toes to softly press her mouth against his.

It slew him. She was so sweet, so beautiful, so good—and she wanted him.

Him.

He moaned into her mouth, hardening instantly when her tongue slid against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him and kissed him with an ardor that took his breath away. He’d wanted to kiss her like this for years, but now that he had her in his arms, her mouth on his, he felt light-headed and woozy and was suddenly afraid he might do something to hurt her, afraid he might be too rough and scare her away.

He broke the kiss, panting, and set her away from him with both hands.

She blinked at him, her expression that of a scolded puppy. In a small voice she said, “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“Jesus, no ,” he groaned, wincing, “you did everything right.”

Her puppy-dog frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”

His voice came out whiskey-rough, aching. “Eliana. Do you have any clue what I want to do to you? How much I want you? How much self-control it takes not to peel those pants off your perfect, delectable body and fuck you right here? Now?”

“Oh,” she said, paling. Her eyes grew huge. “Oh, my. We’re back to incredibly offensive or incredibly hot territory.”

“It’s just the truth! I’ve wanted you every second of every day for years , and now that you’re here, alone with me, I’m finding it very hard not to—”

“Fuck me?” she interrupted, staring him dead in the eye.

The barest hint of a rakish smile lifted her cheek, and his mouth dropped open.

“Are you smirking at me, Ms. High and Mighty?” he growled. He tightened his hands around her arms and pulled her closer.

“I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Kick Ass,” she said innocently. “Knowing what a twitchy hand you have.

I’m afraid I’d get such a spanking I couldn’t sit for a week.”

“Oh, you really have no idea,” he breathed, closing the final distance between them. He pinned her arms around her back again, pressed himself against her, and took her chin in his hand. He stared down into her eyes and said, “I’d love to turn that beautiful ass of yours the perfect shade of pink, and be inside you and make you moan my name and promise to belong to me forever. Make no mistake, Eliana, I want to make you mine. All mine. I want to do very bad things to you, things no one has ever done to you before or ever will again. And what’s more, I want you to learn what pleases me and do it because you want to, because it makes you happy. Because I make you happy.”

She stared at him with her mouth hanging open, her eyes popped wide.

“But we’re not going to do any of that until I’ve shown you this city you’ve lived beneath your entire life and we’ve had a very honest talk about what exactly it is you’re after here, because I’ll tell you right now I’m not interested in just one night and I’m not going to share you with anyone else.

Including your father. Do we understand one another?”

She swallowed and nodded her head.

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed her very softly, first taking her lower lip between his teeth, then sliding his tongue into her mouth, careful to hold back when she arched into him and made a sound in her throat that sounded perilously close to surrender.

“First things first, sweet girl,” he whispered, then pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and released her. “Let’s go see Rome, shall we?” He held out his hand.

A little unsteady on her feet, she reached for his hand and closed her cool fingers around his own. She swallowed again and sent him an amused, slightly disoriented look. “Are you always this bossy?”

He grinned. “Someone’s got to stand up to you. Your ego is completely out of control.”

“ My ego!” She laughed, following as he led her away down the sloping grassy hill.

“And yes, I’m always this bossy,” he said over his shoulder. “In fact, I’m just getting started.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that, Mr. Kick Ass,” she scoffed. “You’re not the only one who’s used to giving orders. If you can dish it out, you better be able to take it.”

D heard her sweet, low laugh from behind him and was glad she couldn’t see the huge grin that split his face.

Yes, he was going to take it. He was going to take it all .

“What the hell do you mean,” breathed Xander, cold with shock, “you don’t know where she is?”

He’d just returned from a full day wandering the streets of Rome, trying to distract himself from thoughts of Morgan, only to see her face on every brunette in the city. After he’d left her in the morning he’d been so strung out it had taken him all day just to calm down enough to return to the safe house, and when he had, she’d been nowhere to be found. In mounting panic, he’d combed every foot of the house and had finally found Bartleby and Tomás—back in human form, healed from the shallow cuts on his face—sitting at the kitchen table.