Desire's Edge Read Online Free PDF Page A

against her needy flesh.
    He licked again. And again. His tongue was soft and silky and hot. Burning her up. With pleasure. With a need that was spiraling, climbing higher and higher. His tongue moved faster, sliding over the lips of her sex, over her hard clit. But she needed more. And without her saying anything, he seemed to sense it.
    Pulling back, he told her, “Spread for me now. Yes, that’s it. Perfect. You’re so damn wet. So perfect.”
    He used his fingers to spread her pussy lips, and even the hard press of his fingers on her flesh was exquisite.
    Even better when he bent his head once more and took her clit into his mouth and sucked.
    “Ah!”
    She thought he’d pause. Tease her. But instead he really went to work, sucking, sucking at her clit. His tongue swept over the hard tip, back and forth. She was going to come any moment.
    When he pushed two fingers inside her, the sensation was shocking. Intense. She had to hold her climax back, wanting simply to feel it all: his mouth, his fingers inside her, beginning to pump now, like some small cock.
    She pulled in a breath, trying not to come. But she was overwhelmed by sensation. He drove his fingers deeper, sucked her in, drank her in. And her climax roared through her like a freight train as thunder clapped outside the windows. Pleasure and pleasure. Sensation upon sensation. All of it deep in her sex, her belly. She shuddered, her legs almost too weak to hold her up, if Dante’s hand wasn’t still on her hip, pressing her against the door.
    Was it the sudden storm shaking the door? Or was it her? Coming and coming still in tiny, shivering coils, shimmering through her body.
    “Oh my God,” she muttered, her head falling back against the door.
    “Again,” he demanded.
    “What? I can’t. Come on, Dante. Take me to bed.”
    “Not yet. I want to make you come again. Here.”
    “Oh . . .”
    She wanted to argue. But his mouth was on her once more, one hand caressing her breast, taking the full flesh and kneading gently. And his mouth . . . his tongue was softer on her this time, as though he knew she was acutely sensitive after her climax. A gentle lapping at her clitoris, then moving lower to push inside her. She opened her thighs farther for him, held on to his shoulders to steady herself. She was aware of how amazingly soft his skin was beneath her hands. She wanted to touch him: his chest, his cock. But later. After he was done with her. After he made her come again. It was going to be soon.
    His tongue was moving inside her, pushing in, slipping out. The sensation was amazing. The pleasure was undeniable. Then he did something she’d never experienced before. He pushed his fingers inside her again, angling them against her G-spot. Her hips arched, and she moaned. Then he slid his tongue right up against her opening, so that it was hard to tell where his fingers stopped and his tongue began. He moved them both, soft, undulating motions. Her hips arched in time with him. And the pleasure built once more, quickly, but in some softer fashion.
    When she came this time it wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. But it was deeper, rumbling through her, her clit pulsing with it. Pleasure was like a solid core in her body, thick and sweet, like honey moving through her system. Taking her over.
    “Oh . . . Oh . . .”
    All she could do was moan, her hips moving against his finger, his mouth. She was dazed. Helpless. Her legs went weak, and she felt herself begin to crumple.
    “I’ve got you.”
    He caught her, somehow. Pulled her to the floor so that she was lying across his knees. His arms were tight around her. She was still shuddering with her orgasm, as though it had left something behind. Some spark of light traveling through her, lighting her up inside.
    She looked at him in the mostly dark room. His gaze was hot, burning in the dim light coming through the windows. His skin was hot to the touch, his body solid muscle. She could only lie in his