J. Geissinger - Shadow’s Edge

She softly exhaled and tightened her arms around him. Like a man sprung from prison, he was suddenly, exquisitely free.

They began to move together, rocking in their perfect embrace, his sex hard and impaling, hers wet and stretched around him. He’d never known anything like this, never known he could make love to a goddess in a forest, high up on the limbs of a tree, and lose himself to her and to the rain-swept sky and to the forest so dark and vast around them.

Mine , the animal inside him hissed. Mine!

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered, rough, into her ear. He pumped deep into her, spreading her wider. His skin began to tighten. Every inch of his body began to ache with such intensity his chest hurt with piercing exhilaration and a dark flame of secret fear. Fear he would lose her and lose himself, fear for what would happen to him if she turned away.

“Say it,” he panted, burying himself in her, lost and ablaze. “Say you’ll stay with me. Say you belong to me, Jenna.”

She clenched her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders and shuddered. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her hair blew in golden ripples across the lichen-covered bark and he felt her body tighten, felt the coming of her release. He tangled his fingers into her hair, forcing her face to his, forcing her to look into his eyes as he thrust inside her and claimed her as his own.

“For the love of God, woman,” he groaned. The air had turned to fire. “ Say it .”

She stared deep into his eyes, her pupils wide and black, then tilted her head forward. She brushed rose petal lips against his cheek.

“You know how I feel,” she breathed, low and husky.

He stilled, panting, buried inside her heat and wetness, and shook his head. “Not...good enough,” he said, teeth clenched against his release, features whetted, eyes ferocious. He pressed his face to her neck and growled like an animal. “Tell me. I need to hear you say the words.”

She stilled as well, a flame held aloft and silent except for her pounding heart, entwined with him, her body a lovely, perfect arch around his. She brought a finger to his lips, made a small, circular motion of her hips. He moaned with the sensation, her dark, sweet magic, her breath against his cheek.

Another rocking motion of her hips, a tremble in her thighs, and he nearly lost himself. His fingers clenched against her bottom, his eyes slid shut.

“Leander,” she murmured. “You already know.”

A sudden spike of anger shot through him. Very well, then. He’d have to play dirty.

He gritted his teeth, pulled himself away, slid almost completely out of her. He reached down with one hand and grasped his hard shaft, pushed the tip against her slick opening. She moaned, protesting. Not allowing himself to slide back in, he rubbed himself against her, back and forth, his head against her swollen nub, his heat and straining hardness against her wet lips. She moaned again and began to rock her hips in rhythm to his strokes.

She opened her eyes. He saw the desire there, the passion, along with the resistance.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, nearly panting. “Your body doesn’t lie. Your eyes don’t lie. Tell me the truth.”

She shook her head. “Stop this,” she said between clenched teeth and closed her eyes.

He leaned his head down and caught the bud of her hard nipple between his lips. He suckled deeply, pulling her taut areola into his mouth, and heard her gasp, felt her body stiffen against him. He thrust himself into her, deep and hard, then pulled out just as quickly.

Her moan was broken now. He thrust into her again and felt a sharp contraction of her muscles.

“Yes, please, yes,” she whispered. Her nails bit into the flesh of his shoulders.

He pulled almost all the way out of her and stilled completely. He held her up with his hands clenched into the tender flesh of her bottom, panting against her shoulder.

“You belong to me, woman. Admit it.” He caught her mouth and kissed her deeply. He drove into her once, then again, until he was completely buried inside her, until he could not go any deeper.

He felt her jerk against him, felt the bounce of her breasts against his chest. Against his mouth, she gasped his name. He brought a hand up to her jaw and held her face to his.

She breathed raggedly for a moment through parted lips, blinking, trembling. He held still and their eyes locked.

A single, erotic rocking motion of her hips and he almost lost himself. She sucked in a breath and he felt the rhythmic, squeezing pulse of her orgasm begin.

She said it in a ragged, clipped rush as her head fell back against the tree trunk. “Fine—yes!—I belong to you! I’m yours .”

It didn’t matter that she said it with her teeth gritted, defiant.

It finished him.

He thrust into her, pushing deep, pressing her down to him so hard it was an unbearable pleasure almost tipping over to pain, the best pain he’d ever felt. He couldn’t get enough of her, her gleaming pale skin that tasted like flowers and smelled like heaven, her erotic, feminine moans against his shoulder, her mystery and fire and rash courage that scored a burning path deep into his heart.

He came in a violent, blind rush, his teeth clenched, his toes dug into the rough bark beneath his feet, heady with the feel of her lush body wrapped around his. Jenna moaned and convulsed against him, coming again. He covered her mouth with his, stealing the sound from her lips, claiming dominion over her heart and her body, over even her breath. He spilled his seed into her and forced his tongue into her mouth as she made a low sound of surrender deep in her throat.

He saw cold white light against his closed lids, bliss and agony and fierce rapture wringing through him with the feel of her so lustrous and hot and throbbing around him, every inch of her open and raw to him, her heart and soul laid bare, her body wanton and abandoned.

Surrendered. Finally, fully surrendered .

When he could breathe again, when he opened his eyes to the sight of her face—eyes half-lidded, skin flushed with a lovely pink glow—everything seemed new, everything seemed different. Even the gloom of the forest around them seemed brighter somehow, lit by the magic they had made together.

She dropped one leg from his waist, tentatively, finding her balance, then the other. All the while he kept himself inside her, not wanting this to end. Not wanting it to ever end.

He cupped his fingers around her jaw, tilted her head back so he could see her face better, so he could see her eyes. He smelled wet bark and fragrant pine and the frank, musky scent of sex all around them, warming the very air itself.

They didn’t speak for a long while, a suspended moment spent gazing at each other as the forest drifted back to reality around them. He finally pulled himself from her with a lingering kiss.

“I hope you realize,” he drawled, tightening his arms around her, his eyes avid on her face, “I’m not going to let you take that back.” He smiled down at her in gorgeous, dazzling victory. “Even if you didn’t really mean it, you said it. And I’m not going to let you take it back.”

Jenna, looking up at him with their bodies still pressed together, was sated and sore...and utterly enthralled. A luxurious, golden pleasure had spread through her with his first touch, a pleasure that captured her and took her to her knees.

And now—as he gazed down at her with the cool wind slipping by their bare bodies and the skin of her back stinging from scraping over bark as he took her against the tree—she realized she had finally discovered what she’d been looking for her entire life.

More than just answers, more than mere information or facts.