Page 22 of Love Loathe Devotion (Tightrope #3)

The drive feels endless and far too short all at once.

Laney’s still breathless, her skin flushed, her fingers twined loosely in mine as the limo glides to a stop outside the house.

The cabin is filled with the scent of her—warm, sweet, and something deeper now, something that’s mine.

Her lipstick is smudged, her hair mussed, and her eyes—God, those eyes—are soft and heavy with trust, and something more. Something that undoes me completely.

I don’t wait for the driver.

The moment the door opens, I’m out, and then I’m reaching for her—because there’s no damn way I’m letting her walk through that door tonight.

“Eddie—” she starts, but her voice cuts off on a gasp as I scoop her into my arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like I haven’t dreamed of carrying her across that threshold since the day she first looked at me like I might be more than a broken man with a guitar.

She wraps her arms around my neck, her head tucked close, and I breathe her in as I carry her toward the front steps.

Her dress shifts against me, satin gliding over my arm, and I can still taste her on my lips.

I swear I could live off that taste. I’d wear it like a badge.

Like proof that she let me touch that part of her soul.

The door clicks open and we’re inside my home, but now it feels like ours. Everything’s quieter, darker, more intimate than before. The night wraps around us, warm and electric, full of promise.

“I’ll never forget the way you looked in that limo,” I murmur against her temple as I carry her down the hallway. “The way you came apart for me. Every sound you made, every breath…” My throat tightens at the memory. “It wrecked me in the best damn way.”

Her fingers tighten around my neck.

“You taste like sin and heaven all at once,” I continue, voice low, rough with everything I haven’t said yet. “And I could spend the rest of my life chasing that taste.”

She shivers in my arms, her breath catching, and it only feeds the fire roaring inside me.

But I don’t rush. Not now.

I carry her slowly, deliberately, holding her like something precious—because she is. Every step closer to my bedroom is one I take with care. Because this isn’t only about lust, or need, not anymore. Not even close.

I’m not just taking her to my bed.

I’m bringing her into my life.

Into my heart.

And there’s no going back from this.

I ascend the stairs, feeling the heat of her sweet body against my own, hardly able to believe that this goddess is in my arms. At the top of the stairs, I hesitate, wondering if I should give her the choice of her room or mine but I want her in my bed too badly.

I need her scent on my pillow, the image of her splayed out on my bed.

Laney’s nails scratch through the short hair at my nape and I fight the shiver of need it causes to run through my dick. Everything this woman does is like a shot of pure lust to my bloodstream.

Placing her on the bed, her hair fans around her as I loom over her, my arms on either side of her hips, pinning her in place.

She leans up on her elbows as I study her, the need in her eyes matching the fire in my veins. My voice comes out low and rough, thick with everything I feel for her.

“I want to fuck you hard and fast until neither of us can see straight,” I growl, unable to hold back the hunger any longer.

“Then I want to kiss every delectable inch of you and worship you like you deserve until there are no doubts in your beautiful eyes about how damn special you are and what you mean to me.”

The way she looks at me when I say it—it sends a jolt straight through me.

I can practically feel the heat ripple off her, the way her body reacts to my words like I’ve touched her without even laying a hand on her.

Her breath quickens, her nipples tighten beneath the thin fabric of her dress and the tension between us crackles like a live wire.

Her tongue flicks out to wet her bottom lip and I groan, my control on a razor’s edge for this woman. Then she undoes me when she whispers, “Yes,” and it’s all I need. That one word coils around my control and snaps it clean in half.

Before she can even finish the thought, I crash my mouth down on hers in a kiss so fierce, so fucking intense, I know I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. We’re lost in it instantly—teeth clashing, tongues tangling, hands roaming like we can’t get close enough, fast enough.

The need to feel her skin, hot and bare against mine, burns through me like wildfire. My hand finds her breast, full and soft beneath my palm, and the sound she makes—moaning into my mouth—nearly undoes me. Every inch of her drives me crazy, and I can’t get enough.

Her moan vibrates through me, raw and addictive, and I need more—I have to feel all of her. My hands trail down, finding the edge of her dress, fingers trembling with a restraint I’m barely holding onto.

“Off,” I murmur against her lips, voice rough as I begin to tug the fabric up over her thighs. She lifts her body without hesitation, and I peel the dress from her, slow enough to take her in, fast enough to feed the ache clawing through me.

I toss the dress towards a chair, forgotten, and she lays back regarding me with hunger in her eyes.

Lying on my bed like a goddess—in a black lace thong, nipples hard tight buds making my mouth water—breathtaking—and, for a second, all I can do is look.

My chest tightens with something deeper than lust, something dangerous.

“You’re unreal,” I breathe, hands moving over her now-exposed skin, savoring every inch like it’s sacred.

I step back just enough to see her—lips parted, eyes dark and hungry as they roam over me like she’s already got me stripped bare in her mind. And I want to give her that.

I shrug off my jacket, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.

Her gaze follows every movement like it’s a striptease meant just for her, and maybe it is.

Then I unbutton my shirt, one by one, each flick of my fingers dragging her deeper into the moment.

Her eyes burn into me, devouring every inch of exposed skin as I finally pull the shirt free and toss it aside.

I stand there for a beat, bare-chested under her gaze, and the way she’s looking at me? Like she’s starving? Her eyes taking in the dark ink on my skin.

It makes my blood thunder.

Bending, I trail my lips along her cheek, down her neck, as my hands glide over the swell of her heavy breast. Fuck, she makes me want to come in my pants like a teenage boy. My palm moves in a light circle over her peaked nipple, her body arching into mine, trying to get closer.

Between her moans, she breathes out, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, dreamt of it,” and fuck if that doesn’t light me up from the inside out.

Her mouth is on me, soft lips pressing heated kisses across my chest, and I can feel the heat in every touch.

I bend, trail my mouth down her neck, tasting her skin as she trembles beneath me, nipping at her throat, her clavicle, until I finally take her nipple between my lips and tease it, slow and deliberate. The sound she makes—it’s wrecking.

She’s burning up in my arms, nails digging into my back as she grabs a fistful of my ass, and I groan into her skin, needing her like air. When she gasps my name—“Eddie”—it hits me like a punch to the gut.

I lift my head, lock eyes with her, my voice thick with want. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

Her voice comes out low and rough, meeting my intensity head-on. “I want you now. We can do slow later. I want you inside me, now.”

Fuck. That does something to me—lights a fire I don’t even try to control. I don’t wait for permission; I’m already moving. I stand, stripping off my pants and boxers in one motion, her eyes locked on me, devouring the sight of my aching length like she’s already feeling it inside her.

In a heartbeat, I’m lifting her—hands firm under her hips, dragging that tiny thong down her legs and tossing it aside like it’s in the way of something sacred.

Then I’m between her thighs, fitting perfectly in the cradle of her body, her heat wrapping around me as I press her down beneath me, skin on skin, chest to chest.

I kiss her—hard. Like I’m trying to pour everything I feel into her mouth, like I need her to know there’s no going back. It’s messy, desperate, real, and, when we break apart, she’s breathless. So am I.

Before I can even catch my breath, I shift us, rolling her until she’s straddling my hips, her warmth pressing against me in all the right ways.

“Pass me a condom from the drawer,” I murmur, my voice thick with need.

She leans forward, and I take the chance to run my hand down the elegant curve of her spine, tracing her skin all the way to that perfect ass. I can feel her shiver under my touch, and damn, it makes my cock twitch, knowing she’s just as wound up as I am.

She opens the drawer, and I see her pause when she finds the unopened XXL box. That little hitch in her breath? That’s all mine. She hands it to me, hands trembling, eyes dark and full of heat.

I tear into the box fast, my need way past the point of patience, pulling out a strip of foil packets. I rip one free and toss the rest on the bed, shooting her a look as I raise a brow.

“For later,” I say, my voice low and certain. “Because once won’t ever be enough with you.”

Her head falls back, lips parted, and I watch her watching me as I roll the condom over my length, thick and throbbing, ready for her. The air between us is electric, every inch of my skin alive with anticipation.