My eyes flutter open to see Edge watching me with one arm tucked behind his head. I'm snuggled against his side my hand rests on his bare, rock-hard stomach. I fight the urge to splay my fingers and rub them over the hard muscles. I'm fascinated with how perfect his body is.
"Merry Christmas," I whisper to him. A shy smile follows. I enjoyed spending time with Miss Catherine in this room, but I like spending this time with him better.
“Merry Christmas to you three,” he replies with a big grin, his hair is boyishly messed up from sleep, his steel-gray eyes crinkling at the corners.
I raise my head enough to see the pretty multi-colored Christmas tree lights are on. There’s also a big bunch of helium-filled pink and blue balloons with a basket full of same colored wrapped gifts piled up under the balloons on the extended leather ottoman in the corner of the room.
Edge sees where I'm looking.
"That would be your BFF, and his man's doing. The second they heard you were carrying two bubs, they took it upon themselves to start dialing shops and racing out the door to get some last minute things to add to the pile of gifts they already bought you during the week. Joel sure is a crazy shopper. I pity Lincoln when those two become man and man. You didn't rise from your nap, so they gave up hovering, and I brought everything in here for you. Figured you could open them in front of the guys later. It will make their day."
“I love those two guys,” I say, using the love word so easily for them. “How early is it?”
“Too early,” Edge says sounding tired. “Just after five.”
I wonder if I should get off his chest. I make a half-baked attempt to slide off him until the hand resting on my back applies a little pressure, holding me in place.
His brow furrows. “Babe… you don’t need to move just because this is an intimate position. I like you just where you are.” I do too. I like Edge being here, holding me close. “We’ve already done way more intimate things than you lying on my chest.”
“I wasn’t sure if maybe I was too heavy on your chest or you were uncomfortable,” I explain.
“Never uncomfortable and you weigh nothing, and that ain’t good for you or the babies. Are you hungry?”
I think about how I feel, and I’m doing okay. "I could eat and drink some water." I know my response pleases him with the smile I'm given.
“Crackers? Or would you like some toast or cereal?”
"Let's start with crackers and work our way up." I want to eat and be healthy for this pregnancy. I'm doing everything in my power to hold down as much food and liquids as I can. Feeling sick is better than losing it all in a bucket.
He releases his gentle hold on me, and I wriggle my way up until I am sitting with my back against the headboard, a pillow slipped in behind my back by Edge.
It's the first time I have seen Edge without a shirt on, and I take the time to acknowledge his shirtless beauty. His tattoos not only mark his corded arms, but he has the patch of his club tattooed over his heart. He looks after himself. He's as strong as he is fearless.
“You see something you like?” Edge interrupts my ogling. He sounds like he is laughing at me.
I want to tell him ‘very much,' but a small wave of uncertainty hits me.
Edge twists away from me, reaching for the crackers, snagging them in his hand.
I let out a loud gasp of surprise causing his body to stiffen. Edge's back has scars all over it branding him as a child who has been beaten very severely over an extended period.
I have to ask, even though I know the answer. "Did William do that to you?" I whisper, unable to contain my horror for the little boy who received so much pain.
With his back still facing me, Edge lets out a deep sigh, which sounds a lot like despair for the little boy.
My hand reaches out to lightly touch some of the scars. "I'm sorry." I want to soothe his phantom pain. Sometimes memories are just as painful as physical pain. I release a little shiver as the boxes threaten to explode open with painful memories. I have my ugly scars to bear.
We are kindred spirits who know what the other has endured, and we know what we still hide from the ones who love us.
I drop my hand as he twists back around to me with the cracker packet. He doesn’t want pity.
“You endured twice the time I did,” he replies, the answer written between the lines. It was indeed William who hurt him.
"I have scars, too." It's better I show Edge without him discovering for himself. I want no secrets between us. I want him to know we are both damaged goods and that I understand what it means to live with a flawed body and the memories.
His hand tightens on the plastic cracker packet, forcing it to make an angry crunching sound in protest.
“Hey, don’t hurt the crackers.” I try to joke.
“Show me,” he says making a low non-threatening noise.
I wriggle down the bed a little and turn my body before lifting the T-shirt I’m wearing in bed, enough for him to see my lower back exposed and lean forward.
“Fuck that motherfucker!” he spits out. The word PET is revealed, among other scars. “I felt the marks through your dress when we were making out, but I didn't know the motherfucker had branded you with a word and beaten you so badly with what looks like belt marks." He runs a hand wildly through his hair, messing it up even more. "I wanted to know, but I didn't want my suspicions confirmed. I hate he did that to you. It should never have happened." He's fighting the guilt that is showering down on him. "When you were naked on my bike, I never saw your back. Torque took your naked body from the table where you’d been nailed down and wrapped you in the blankets, so I didn't see then either. Boxer didn't tell me. Miss Catherine didn't say a word," he says almost to himself. He's annoyed at not knowing before now. "I'm truly sorry he did this to you," he says with sincere regret.
I talk over my shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, and I know deep down you do understand that. I understand it wasn't a little boy's fault that I got stolen and abused. William was an evil man, and that is all on him—never you,” I told him fiercely. “William was a monster.”
I drop the T-shirt and move back to the headboard before saying, "Your father hurt both of us. We are both scarred from that man in more ways than one, but now we have a future that will be brighter, no matter how it plays out for you and me, it will be brighter for our children. Nobody will ever lay a hand on them," I say with conviction. "We can't change the past. We can only build a good future." I want to believe so much every word of that last sentence. It's Christmas Day, and I don't want negative feelings swamping our day.
I know Edge is angry by the way he's still throttling the cracker packet, and his muscles are all bunched up along his shoulders, but he's trying hard not to show it. His body is telling a whole other story. I know he wishes so much he could hurt William, beat him as he beat us. Cage him as he caged us—but he can't.
I reach out for the cracker packet and tug it from his grip and drop it on the bed.
I lean forward, seeking the connection we have. I want to soothe the angry beast inside him. "Edge, it is Christmas… kiss me."
His hand slides under my hair around to my nape, and then I'm pulled in close, our lips locking. I make the kiss more urgent before it simmers and becomes slow and sensual.
I haven’t forgotten about Cyn and her kid, but I trust Edge to explain everything to me later. He told me it was only me and I believe him. She's never been his girlfriend; she was an arrangement.
He breaks the kiss and inhales, his eyes turning molten with desire.
“Babe, I can smell you—”
And then my belly grumbles loudly cutting off anything else he was going to say, determined to break up our moment.
“Whisper, the babes need some nourishment. We can make out again later,” he says with a grin and hands me the slightly crushed cracker packet.
I take a broken cracker from the wreckage and start nibbling it. I’ve learned slow and steady is better for my nausea. The only time anybody is sure about how bad I feel is when I’m vomiting. I don’t want to terrify my family any more than they already seem to be with this hardcore sickness. If I have to stay in bed for a few months until this HG passes, then I will. I have put up with a lot worse.
When I finish three mostly whole crackers successfully Edge says, "I'll go get you some ginger tea if you promise not to hobble off anywhere," said with only a little seriousness to his voice. I have to get used to him caring for me. It’s a very unusual feeling.
"I might hobble to the toilet." I'm honest. "I'm busting to go." It's been a week since my injuries, and they are healing well, but I can't seem to stop this stubbornness I have for getting myself from the bed to the toilet.
"Nope! If you're good to go, I'm gonna scoop you up, and you can save the hobbling for in a few days."
I let out a little huff of annoyance and see how happy that noise makes Edge when he starts grinning at me again.
“Babe, I know you’re strong, but just lean on me for a little bit longer, it satisfies my manly ego.” He lifts my chin. “Whisper, it’s not a sign of weakness. We all know the strength you possess. Just humor us and let Doc Evelyn look after you, which means we follow her orders to the letter. You don’t need to be the person you’ve been conditioned to be. Accept being looked after like a princess for once.”
“I’ll try.” I concede to waving the white flag.
Edge carries me to the bathroom in just my T-shirt and plain knickers, and then leaves the room giving me privacy. I’m so used to somebody waiting on the other side of the cubicle in The Pen, allowing me zero privacy. The freedom is hard to accept, in this house. Nobody pens me in.
I call out when I'm ready, and he's back. His black, low-riding, tight boxer trunks look good on him. I should care how I look this morning waking up next to him, but he doesn't see me any differently for the state I'm in. He's seen me looking far worse.
After a short pit-stop at the hand basin to brush our teeth, we’re heading back to the bed.
“Please, I would like to be on the floor, so I’m close to the tree. I have two gifts I would like to give to you privately.” My face heats up with how my words came out. “I just meant there are always people around and I think you would like this gift opened on our own.”
“We can do whatever you like, babe. It’s Christmas!” Edge’s face is so close with his ever-growing beard tickling my chin. His breath is fresh and minty, and I find myself licking my lips, fighting the urge to taste his mouth with my tongue. He gives me a knowing smile. “Babe… later you can wrap those lips over mine, and we can taste each other, but for now, we have gift-giving to do.” He’s right. This Christmas is for Edge, too. I’m selfishly allowing my body to control the desires I’m feeling to throw myself at him. I want today filled with good memories, and gift-giving is a good memory.
I’m placed down on the soft carpet propped up against the side of the bed with a pillow behind my back. A blanket gets draped over my legs, and a cup of ginger tea is handed to me before he sits down next to me.
"Thank you." I take the cup offered and drink small, timid sips. “Is everybody gone now?” I try to hide my awkwardness with questions.
"Yeah, only Ghost, Hazard, Joel and Lincoln and your family are still here." He looks down at his hands then back up at me. "Maybe one day soon we can catch up with my boys at the compound?"
I don’t know how to answer that, so I say instead, “Are they upset you have stayed here with me?”
"No, they understand, but they do think I'm eventually bringing you back to Albuquerque with me. It makes sense to them because I've claimed you, but I know it doesn't make sense to you and your family. I'm taking a temporary leave from the club until we can work things out."
I don't know how to reply to this statement because Edge is so honest and upfront with me, so I say nothing and take more sips of the tea and watch the flickering lights to buy myself some thinking time.
When I take my last sip, panic starts to set in he will eventually want to take me from my home, because I owe him and his men an enormous debt for saving my life.
"Whisper…" He's rubbing my back gently. "Take a slow deep breath. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to." I didn't realize an anxiety attack was starting to hit me. "Breathe slowly in and out. Fuck, babe, you don't need to worry your gorgeous head about the future. I didn't mean right away, maybe in a few months, you might like to see where I live? He's hopeful. “But I won’t force you to go there.”
I have never left Connard except for involuntarily. It's a big step. The last time I was in Anchorage I was fleeing for my life, injured and half frozen. I've been caged nearly my entire life and something so easy—is so hard. I haven't left the grounds of Ghost's property, and before that, I was underground.
I know Connard; I was safe there. Now I can be safe again in my small town. There are no more men out to hurt me. I can still be anonymous. I will work up the courage to travel to New Orleans, just like I had planned, and visit Phoenix in Ocean Beach, too. Maybe then I can visit where Edge lives, but I can’t seem to find the words even though my breathing has returned to normal.
"Um…" Averting my eyes to the prettily decorated tree, I decide to change the topic swiftly. "I would like to give you a present."
"Let me go first." He reaches for a white box with a hot pink ribbon tied around it before I can protest. He hands the box to me and kisses me on the lips grinning. "Merry Christmas, Whisper." I enjoy seeing him happy and relaxed.
"Thank you, Edge." My excitement for this day is threatening to spill out of me. It has finally come, a Christmas where I can give, and I am receiving. I've seen so many Christmas movies, something I think William allowed me to watch as a form of emotional torture.
I sit with Edge’s gift in my lap enjoying this moment and appreciating the packaging. I don’t want to rush opening it because then it will be all over. “I can’t think what’s inside,” I finally say.
"Only one way to find out," he replies in an amused tone as he waits for me to be ready.
I fumble with the ribbon until I can undo it, and then I roll it up carefully. I flip the lid off next and peer inside letting out a little gasp of surprise. There's a ‘Victoria's Secret' box inside in pretty pink and white stripes. I've heard of this store. I take the pretty box out and lift the lid. "Oh, my..." There's a gift voucher inside for one thousand dollars! "Edge…" He shrugs when I look at him.
"Every woman needs to feel sexy underneath her clothes. Also, I may have my selfish reasons for getting you this gift." My heart flutters like butterfly wings have replaced it.
"Thank you. It's a very generous gift. I don't think I will need to spend anywhere near that amount."
“Oh, you would be surprised how little you will get with this voucher both figuratively speaking and in sexy items.” He grins. “I’m hoping for at least half a week's worth of lace and scraps of sexiness. I'm not saying you have to show me, just knowing you feel good wearing it will be enough for me."
“You said that with such a straight face.” He gives me a wink in reply. I know he’s trying to make me laugh. “Thank you, this is a ridiculously generous gift, even if you do have hidden motives.” I don’t feel anxious about how much he spent because I’m about to give him a gift. “Now it’s my turn.” I’m so excited and relieved to be able to do this for him.
"Hold that thought. I want to give you another one." He's enjoying himself a lot from the glint in his eyes. This day means more to him than he is letting on.
He passes me another box with a thick white ribbon wrapped around it and tied into a bow. The color of the box reminds me of the jewelry store Tiffany & Co.
“Thank you.” Again I hold it in my hands and appreciate the thought he’s put into buying me a second gift.
"Open it." This alpha man is trying to hide his excitement. He doesn't look like the killer I know he can be, he's a little boy in an alpha male's body. He missed out on Christmas as a small boy, and when he did get to enjoy it with his adopted parents, he had a much older soul by then.
“I will. I’d just like to look at it for a second more before I open it.” I tug on the bow, which gently relaxes and falls away. I make a surprised noise when I see the words ‘Tiffany & Co.’ embossed on the lid. I look at Edge who is looking very proud of himself. “Oh, my goodness,” I whisper in total amazement that I’m holding such a box in my hands. His smile spreads across his face, his cheeks rising, as his eyes crinkle at the corners with laughter.
It couldn’t be. Could it?
Before I open the box, I again take the time to roll the thick ribbon up and carefully place it beside the pink one.
"Why are you doing that with the ribbons?" Edge asks me, a curious expression on his face.
"Because I want to keep them. If I have a little girl or two little girls inside me, I want to one day use these pieces of ribbon in their hair." I can see from the look on his face he wasn't expecting me to say that. He's surprised, but also there's something else written on his face, I just can't read the language.
“Babe”—he growls low and sexy—“so fucking sweet. If the ribbons mean so much to you, I think what’s inside the box is gonna be a sure-fire winner. I gather you’ve heard of this company?” he says fully knowing I have.
Then it all clicks into place. “My favorite movie ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ you remembered,” I whisper, partially in shock at what I was genuinely holding in my hands and taken back that he would—
"I remembered. It wasn't that long ago, a girl in a bar named Sara talked movies with me over a beer or two. And then she led me by the hand up the stairs where we got better acquainted with each other and then we had the most amazing sex on my bike. Fuck… You were everything that night. It was hard for me to ride away from you. I would have come back, eventually to see you. I couldn't let you out of my life without seeing if that connection was more than just sexual, but then…" We both know what happened next.
“That’s in the past,” I say gently. We no longer need to speak of that night.” I hold his hand. “Let’s just see where this all takes us, no pressure, no strings.” I want to believe in happily-ever-afters.
His hand snakes around the back of my neck, something I realize he enjoys doing, and he draws my head closer to his. And then he kisses me slowly and passionately. I would be so happy to stay like this for hours, being lost in this cocoon of happiness, because that’s what I feel about this man.
I’m happy.
I feel the shift. We’ve moved forward to another place in this thing we’re doing. I don’t want to jinx it and call it a relationship. We have this silent connection I can’t put into words, but we both feel it deeply.
He’s told me I’m his; I’m the only one, and he’s my only one, but this is all happening so fast. We are a bullet train speeding to each destination.
He eases me back gently all too soon. My breasts feel swollen; my nipples press unashamedly against the T-shirt's fabric seeking attention. He curses softly when his eyes rest on them. "Babe, I'm hard for you too, but I want to do your first Christmas right and finish giving you your gifts."
I desperately want this man to touch me in all the places, but he's right, it is gift giving time. And when did I turn into somebody who can't control her sexual urges?
"Open the box, Whisper," he says as we both try to ignore his hard-on.
"Could you please carefully lift the lid, I'm afraid I'll dent it." Before the lid comes off, I close my eyes.
Edge’s lips are at my ear, his warm breath comforting. “Open those peepers.”
"I don't think I can," I whisper. "If you've done what it looks like you've done then it's too amazing and too expensive for me to even look at." Edge laughs his lips softly grazing my ear, not at all helping with my nipple situation or his hard-on. "You've already spent too much money on the ‘Victoria's Secret' voucher." My gifts for him cost me virtually nothing.
I'm holding my breath now; my eyes scrunched shut.
“You won’t know unless you open those beautiful browns. The box might be all a ruse.” Now he sounds like I’m amusing him. “Do you want me to put it on you and miss out on the thrill of seeing it all boxed up nicely?”
My eyes snap open.
“Oh. My. Goodness.” Inside is the most beautiful, diamond necklace with a delicate chain. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
"It's called a graduated drop pendant, and you're welcome. I'm glad you like it. As you can see, six diamonds graduate in size. Each diamond represents a week you were lost to your family—to me, and a week of the babies’ lives. Lift your hair up, and I'll put it on you."
“I’m wearing a T-shirt. It’s too good for a T-shirt.”
“Well, I want you to wear it all the time. Sure it would look great with a sexy black cocktail dress and fuck-me heels, but I want you to wear it every day, starting now.” He takes it out the box. “Now up with your hair.”
My hand moves to my neck when he's finished. "I…" I don't know what to say, it's so well thought out his reasoning behind the necklace design, and it’s from Tiffany's, so it will be expensive, and it's so unexpected and beautiful. "Thank you, Edge, it's…"
“Never too much,” he finishes my sentence.
I'm starting to feel overwhelmed by these beautiful gifts, but I tamp down the panic. I don't want to fall apart in front of him. I take a couple of deep calming breaths and remind myself I'm not in his debt because he gave me these gifts. I don't need to repay him.
“You okay? You’re not feeling anxious because I have this need to spoil you and it makes me very, very happy watching your face light up?”
"A little," I confess. "I'm dealing with it. Your gifts are so generous and—"
A finger is placed against my lips shushing me. I don't want to ruin this for Edge; he's so genuinely happy to be giving me these gifts.
“Don’t think of the amount, think of the gifts as nice over-priced scraps of fabric that are fun to wear for the both of us and the necklace is something you deserve to have. Every woman needs a nice piece of jewelry.”
I pick up the rolled up ribbons and carefully place them in the Victoria Secret box. "Could you please place the gift boxes back under the tree where they won't accidentally get crushed?" I plan on kissing this man thoroughly after I've given him my gifts. My mind’s made up.
“You can toss the boxes.”
"Edge! You can't toss away a Tiffany box," I say with mock shock.
He laughs loudly shaking his head and hands me another box. This one is Christmas green.
“Another one? You’ve given me so—”
A finger lands on my lips, again. "Don't burst my bubble. It's more fun than you can imagine for me."
“Okay.” I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
"Phoenix helped me with this one," he smiles like he's proud of himself. My face creases in confusion. I tug on the pale blue ribbon until it releases and then I carefully roll it up and place it to the side before lifting the lid. There is a large gold embossed card inside with black lettering—and a blank check?
"Go ahead read what it says, and the blank check will make sense," he says, his eyes dancing with excitement.
This voucher and blank check enable, Whisper, to study whatever-the-fuck-she-pleases and that includes landscaping and get the piece of paper that qualifies her to do fancy shit to peoples' gardens. This gift will enable her to empower her mind and become certified. It comes with no expiry date.
Yours, Edge x
"Oh, Edge, this is…" Words are failing me because all I've wanted to do is officially become a landscaper and have my own business. My fingers play with the embossed words on the card. I look up to see how proud he is of this gift. "Thank you," I croak out, emotion flowing through me. I want to burst out crying at how kind and generous he is, but I force back the tears not wanting to spoil the moment. "I will cherish this voucher until one day I might be able to use it."
"What do you mean, might be able to? Just because you're on your way to motherhood, that doesn't mean you can't have a degree in anything you want," he says with so much passion that I want to believe there will be time for me to study.
“If you want it to happen, it will happen.” He believes every word.
“I do want to have my own business one day, but I also want to be the best mother I can be.” I try to explain.
"You can have it all, Whisper, don't settle for less. You have a great family who will support you, and you have me." Edge has me believing anything is possible. "Anything you or the babies need, I'm going to look after you and do my best to make it happen. I don't want you to doubt that."
“Okay.” I don’t know how to handle everything he’s saying, so I move onto his gifts. “Um… those two gifts under the tree… the ones with the red bows are for you.” I stumble over my words because I didn't spend any money on these gifts and my confidence is wavering after the expensive gifts he gave me. I sadly don't know enough about his likes and dislikes to buy him anything personal. I never asked his friends what he liked; I just did what felt right.
He grins at me and presses a palm into his chest as if to say ‘for me?' He picks up the small rectangular box covered in little Santas first. He goes to shake it but then hesitates.
“I can shake it… can’t I?” His uncertainty for possibly breaking what is inside the box makes me smile, swallowing up my nervousness.
“Yes. I’m afraid it’s more a—”
He presses a finger to my lips. "Sssh… I don't need an explanation. It could be a box of air, and I would love it because it meant you were alive to give it to me. Now let me wonder what it is." He sits thinking and then starts shaking it. There is a light rattling noise. "So it's not just air,” he ponders before lifting the lid and looking inside.
He holds up the neatly folded papers with an interested look on his face and raises an eyebrow at me.
I shrug a little self-conscious of the fact I haven’t given him something tangible for Christmas.
He starts unfolding them and quietly reads the letter I have attached, which Phoenix wrote out for me and then runs his eyes over the documents.
His Adam’s Apple bobs up and down as he takes a deep swallow, more in response to the emotions he will be processing. “So honest and sweet,” he mutters to himself.
His eyes hit mine. “You did this for me?”
“Boxer helped. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
“Babe… how have I gotten so lucky? You’ve every right to kee—”
“I was never keeping any of it," I blurt out cutting him off. "From the moment I received the letter from that creepy Jonathan Boothe, I didn't want a cent. It was always going back to the rightful heir. Those papers in your hand are legal and binding; Boxer made sure of that. I don't want anything of William's. Please accept your birthright without any further comment."
The room is quiet for a few heartbeats. I hope I've done the right thing. I couldn't keep a cent of that evil inheritance. Edge spent too many years living what I went through, and he deserves what is rightfully his. Parents should only ever love and cherish their children. William wanted me hunted down by his own flesh and blood, and now the tables have turned on William's plan, and that is a gift in itself. He didn't get to have the last say.
I did.
And it feels good.
"I still have the house key and letter you wrote to Dallas Dupré and left it on the table in my fath—William's house. I've not given that fucked-up inheritance a second thought since then. When I read the letter, you left me, explaining it was a misunderstanding and you would sign it all over to me, I'd already shot you and allowed you to be kidnapped. I've never felt so fucking confused and low for not having taken the time to find you—not Sara—but you and talk before I damned you to death. Your letter hinted that all was not what it seemed and you would explain as much as you were able to when I contacted you. You were so innocent in that letter. William had used me, and I nearly succeeded.
"William's assets have never meant a damn to me because they don't. I wanted to burn the house to the ground—still do. But the fact you went and did this for me, Whisper, you blow my mind. You have every right to keep it all because of what he put you through. I only give a damn about you, and what little lives are growing inside you; they're all the gifts I need for the rest of my life."
“Edge, it’s all yours now, because I want none of it. Donate his money, burn his house down and that slave cabin, I’ll even help you light it up.” I wish I could burn all the horrible memories down with it. "But for now, I want you to accept it, and I also have one more gift for you to open."
He holds up the smaller box and doesn’t hesitate to lift the lid. His breath catches as he pulls the silver business-sized card out with the words I FORGIVE YOU embossed on it.
He stares at the card for a long time, his eyes downcast. I think he needs this time to compose himself. Edge knows what I mean by those three words, and I do forgive him for attacking me. Finally, he says, "Thank you," his voice gruff with emotion as he looks at me. "I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for hurting you, but this gift means a lot to me."
Edge is bit-by-bit, letting his walls down to show me the person he could have been if William hadn’t broken him.
I would imagine his adopted parents found those layers and brought the best out of him and then war hardened him up again and then his parents' dementia stole their love for him.
I know I’m seeing the Dallas ‘Edge’ Masson few got to witness.
He drops the papers back inside the box with the business-sized card, carefully replaces the lid and then he places it back under the tree and then moves the empty cup away from us.
He leans into me and slides a hand around the back of my neck. “Babe… best Christmas ever.” His lips crush mine.
God, he can kiss.
I want to be devoured by this man.
"Edge..." His name is a soft sigh from my lips as I come up for air and try to get as close as I can to him. I'm up on my knees, the blanket slipping away exposing my bare legs. My T-shirt has ridden up my thighs as I squirm to connect on a deeper level. I can't explain what happens to me around him. I feel this sense of freedom and everything else in my life fades into the background.
"There she is… my sweet and wild girl." His voice is deeper, sexier. "We shouldn't…" His actions are the opposite of his words as he guides me closer. "Tell me to stop and I will." The kisses grow hungrier as he ignores his attempt at holding back.
I lose my balance and slide sideways into his lap. He catches me, and I find myself in a more comfortable position curled in his supportive arms.
“Whisper—”
“Please.” I am practically begging.
“Fuck it.” And then his hand is sliding up between my legs and sliding my panties to the side. He pauses. “Whisper—”
I suck on his bottom lip halting any further chivalry and spread my legs, an open invitation that I want more. I'm wild as I squirm about wanting his fingers inside me. Only he can put this blaze out. My body responds only to his touch. It goes wild just for him as it remembers the night at Boxer's bar and out the back in the car lot on his Harley. All those images come flooding back, and my body wants more of what he gave me that night.
“Make love to me,” I boldly state what I want.
Edge growls while one finger slides inside me. "Babe, you're so wet." I slowly rock my hips. The wild in me wants more—needs more.
Another finger slides inside me, and I stifle my moan in his neck as he picks up the speed, his thumb working in unison against my clit to make me come. It takes less than thirty seconds, and I'm on fire, panting for more as I explode in his arms. I can feel his erection poking me in the side, and it's not where I need it to be.
“Edge,” I breathe out, searching his gray eyes that seem to have darkened even more.
"Darlin'… I won't be able to stop if I get you on your back," he says, at the same time getting to his feet and moving me up onto the bed. I think he's going to let me suffer when he rumbles out an apology before sliding off the bed to his knees, gripping my panties either side and peeling them off me. He holds my hips and slides me back towards him then he cups the back of both of my knees and pulls them over each of his shoulders. "Fuck, babe, I'm starving."
I know what it feels like to have Edge's mouth on me, so I whisper-shout, "Pillow!" He grabs the one off the ground and drops it where I can reach it. His mouth is on me, and I don't hesitate to grab the pillow and move it near my face. I moan softly. I like what his short beard is doing to me as he tongues me, sucking and licking his way around the most intimate parts of me. He took me by surprise in the back car lot of the bar. I’d never known anything could feel so good and now I think it is one of my favorite things Edge can do to me.
He has control of my legs, and all I want to do is move with him. He understands and lifts my body off the bed, his hands supporting my lower back and starts pushing his tongue like it's his penis inside of me. The pleasure nearly undoes me. He picks up the pace, and I almost can't stand what he's doing to me, but at the same time, I don't want him to stop. It's an agony I want to feel every day.
I can't hold the noises inside me any longer. I manage to get the pillow close to my mouth just in time as I cry out into it, muffling the sounds as I fall apart against his face while he licks up every drop, moaning against my inner thighs unintelligible words as my orgasm stretches out.
When the vibrations finally calm, I pull the pillow away and am left breathless with the aftermath of my orgasm.
I hear Edge murmuring his approval. “Jesus… babe. You’re so fucking wild.”
My heart is galloping.
But Edge isn’t finished.
He slides my legs off his shoulders and stands up. “I have to be inside you. I need you to tell me now if you are feeling well enough.”
My answer is to tear off my T-shirt revealing my naked breasts.
“I want to see all of you naked,” I boldly tell him.
“Babe,” he states his approval.
His underwear is peeled down, revealing his thick, long erection glistening with pre-cum.
“I’m clean. I need skin to skin.” He waits for my response.
I nod because that is about all I can do. I don’t even know the difference from a condom to skin-on-skin.
But I’m about to find out.
“Babe, you’re going to like how this feels.”
He lies down beside me and then he does the unexpected and slides me up and onto his body so that my back is in line with his torso. I’m facing away from him.
He senses my confusion as he encourages my legs to spread a little further apart, so his erection is standing upright between my legs. "This will feel so fucking good," he says sucking my earlobe.
He takes hold of his erection between my spread legs and slowly pumps it several times. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head as it grows larger in his grip.
He releases it; then his fingers start rubbing circles around my clit massaging the wetness. I can't help biting my lip and moaning in appreciation of how good I'm feeling.
“Babe, move with me. Rub yourself against my dick and feel how good it will be for you.”
I start moving, and there are so many sensations hitting me at once that my head drops to the side exposing my neck. His mouth latches on and starts sucking in time with his fingers, while the other tugs on my left nipple and I am getting ready to scream at how good it all feels.
"The best part is about to happen," he pants against my neck. It gets better? “Fuck, yeah, it’s gonna get better.”
His fingers stop playing with my clit, and he grabs hold of my waist lifting me slightly so he can move his hips. "Guide my dick inside you, gorgeous, and let me take you for a ride."
I reach down using the tips of my fingers to position the head; then his dick slowly slips inside me as he lowers me and we both moan in unison.
“Christ, babe, I knew this position was gonna feel good for the both of us. Let me pick up the pace.”
My legs open greedily. I use my heels to dig into the bed to give me some traction, helping Edge to thrust into me as I rise high enough for him to move even more freely.
My noises have to be muffled by his hand held lightly over my mouth and when I still can't keep the sounds low his thumb slides inside. I suck on it in an attempt to stifle the ecstasy that unashamedly escapes the only way it knows how.
"Ooh… Edge…" Words fail me as he keeps thrusting. He's pumping faster and harder, and I can't get enough. The skin to skin friction is so erotic.
His free hand massages my breast as his thumb rubs and tugs the hard pebbled nipple and then it's between my legs, rubbing the attention seeking little nub that has silently been calling out to be touched.
“Babe, I need to come,” he tells me in a strained voice, his short breaths coming out in puffs of air as he tries to hold on. “Are you with me?”
Yes! I want to scream.
I respond with actions. I can no longer hold on and then I’m swan diving over the edge, my orgasm pouring out of me, my heart racing. I’m coming hard. My legs shake from the powerful orgasm that’s rocking my core. I’m panting feathered breaths against the hand that is trying to keep our orgasms a secret from the rest of the household.
His body jerks underneath me at the same time I started to come. He’s muffling his moans against my neck as he falls back down from his own erotic orgasm.
Edge's hand drops from my mouth so it can grab my chin and twist my head so he can access my mouth with his tongue, all the time continuing to rock his hips—the speed less visceral, but no less erotic. Slowing down adds a different, deeper level to our lovemaking.
Our orgasms may have escaped us, but our bodies want to stay connected, they are greedy for more.
I pull back from his lips, taking in a much-needed breath. "Edge, I want to do this for hours." He laughs softly. "You feel so good inside me." He's still so hard, my inner walls holding him tight.
I contract my muscles and Edge groans loudly. I do it again, but this time I latch onto his mouth to stifle his sounds. Instead, a low rumble vibrates through him as we kiss hungrily.
I’m unabashedly panting for more as I arch my back, my arms raised above me so my hands can clumsily grasp his face and hair.
We break the kiss before one of us passes out from lack of air.
“I want to be deeper in your pussy. How are you feeling?”
“Aroused. I want more.”
He laughs.
"I'm going to slide you off me now, and we can move you into another position. I want to watch your face when we come this time."
He moves me off him, his erection still hard as it slides out of me. I immediately miss the skin-on-skin connection.
“I’m going to take you on your side.”
My eyes go wide.
“Lie on your side and let me move you into position.”
His erection is like a gear stick between my legs, even though we have just been so intimate with each other, I feel a little shy with it staring me so close in the face while Edge watches me.
"Babe, when your hands are better, I want them gripping my dick and sliding up and down until I come. But now I want you to spread your legs wide and drape your left leg over my hip, and I'm going to move in between them while you're on your side. Let me do all the work. When we connect, I will be in deep. You'll have to keep those excited noises you make lowered if you can because this is going to make you want to scream like a banshee when you come."
I nod and lick my lips in anticipation.
“This position is going to fill you right up, so let me know the pace you want me to go. If I hurt you, I will stop. Promise to tell me?”
I bite my lower lip. “Yes.” God, I think I’m going to come again just listening to him talking to me like this. He’s so open about sex—uninhibited.
“Between us, we’re going to rock another orgasm.”
Jesus!
His hands wrap around each side of my small waist, and then he glides inside me. We both struggle to contain the noise that escapes us.
My mouth opens on an ‘O.'
“Christ, babe, I haven’t even begun to move yet.”
Our butt cheeks are touching he's in that deep. He's got us scissoring; our legs are the blades.
I’m resting on my forearm as he slides out and rubs the end of his dick up and down my slippery entrance, before sliding back inside me until nothing separates us.
“How does it feel?”
In answer I clamp my mouth shut, my lip catching on my teeth as my head falls backward and my eyes want to disappear somewhere inside my head.
And then it quickly escalates.
Edge picks up the speed; his hands grip my hips as he thrusts harder inside me and I can't get enough.
I flop onto my back and move my hips around until we are at another angle, and if I thought he was buried deep before, we both found out he could go deeper.
My hand flies to my mouth so I can bite down on the side of it, smothering the noises I badly want to set free.
I quickly reach the point where I’m holding onto an orgasm that wants to explode from me. But I want Edge to be ready too. I start rotating my hips in sync with his thrusts, unable to stay still any longer.
Edge’s low, deep growl has me repeating this movement. His steel-gray eyes have darkened to almost black as they lock onto where his cock is working hard.
"You have no idea how this looks, Whisper," he sounds in awe of the view. Two of his fingers find their way back down to massage my clit, heightening the battle to hold out for Edge. "Your wet pussy swallows me whole." His eyes again meet mine. "Don't look away when we come."
I clamp down harder on my hand, my eyes never leaving his as the heightened pleasure I'm feeling every time he slams inside me is bordering on being too much for me to hold back the scream he warned me about. I want to moan and whimper out loud, scream his name. The ecstasy I feel when he's so deep inside my core is that powerful.
My lashes start to lower.
"Eyes up… babe. Need… to see those… pretty browns." He's breathing hard as he pounds me.
My lids fly open, my body moving more urgently, his deep thrusts penetrating my core.
His grip tightens on my hips, and then he's doing all the work, slamming us into each other. I can barely stand the pleasure.
Our orgasms break just as his mouth meets with mine, his hand grasping the side of my face keeping us connected as we absorb each other's noises. Our bodies shuddering in unison as our orgasms lose their voices.
Edge rolls us to the side, keeping his weight off my body. He’s kissing me fiercely, as our tongues lash out at each other, tangling in each other’s mouths almost in desperation.
How have I lived without this man?
I feel a sense of pride to be able to tear an orgasm like that from this man’s body.
“Babe, what have you done to me?”
I smile at how dominant he makes me feel.
“Merry Christmas, Edge.”
"Merry Christmas, Whisper. Let's rest a few moments, and then I'll help you to shower."
“Okay.” But I’m far too comfortable to want to move. Maybe I’ll just lay here for a few moments while I remember my first Christmas morning with this man.
But my eyes are already closing.