Page 108 of Scoring Eden

His lips fall to my neck, pressing wet kisses along the column of my throat and into the divot beside my collarbone. His fingers find the hem of my dress, dragging it up until it’s bunched around my waist so he can knead the soft flesh of my thighs as he works.

“We should stop,” I gasp, throwing my head back. “People will see.”

“Let them.”

“Alex.”

“No one can see us out here, baby. It’s just you and me.”

You and me.

God, that sounds like heaven.

I’m so weak for this man that even if we weren’t hidden out of sight and he asked to fuck me, I’d probably say yes. But I don’t want to think about what that says about me right now, just as I don’t want to confront any of the other pressing issues that imminently need my attention.

I rise onto my knees and fumble for his zipper, dragging it down with a quiet zzzhht. He reaches between my legs and pulls my panties to one side, sliding a finger along my already soaked pussy.

“Is this all for me?” he asks, as if in awe.

“Well, it wouldn’t be for anybody else.”

It will never be for anybody else.

I can’t imagine another man ever commanding my body the way Alex does or igniting my heart and soul in the way he can with his kindness and his care and his fierce, unyielding protectiveness. I can’t imagine I’ll ever want another man to even try.

I manage to spring his cock free from his boxers, the head of him swollen and already seeping. It’s hot in my hand, almost burning, as I give it a few rough pulls, our position making it difficult to handle him with any real finesse.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. His hips roll up into my hand, his expression pinched into something that looks almost pained. When I coast my thumb over his slit, he jerks and sinks his teeth into my neck.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he groans into my skin, hot breath ghosting across my throat. “How much I want you, how much I lo—feel for you. It’s not normal. I’m goddamn obsessed with you. And the more I try to fight it, to swim back to shore, the riptide just pulls me farther out. I’m drowning in you, Eden. You’re fucking destroying me.”

That’s the second time he’s brought up riptides in the last twenty-four hours, and I’m beginning to realize there may be further context that I’m not privy to. Not that I need it. If his words weren’t enough, the desperate, aching edge to his voice as he says them is enough to work it out.

“I don’t want to destroy you, Alex.” I pull my hand from his dick and force his face up so I can look into his reverent, shimmering eyes. “And this doesn’t have to kill you. If you let it, this could save you.”

“You think I need saving, baby girl?”

“A little.” I press a gentle kiss to his lips. “From yourself, maybe. You’ve saved me so many times. You’ve spent most of your life saving everyone. Me. Brynn. Leo. Macon. Maybe it’s time to let someone save you for once.”

His hips roll, his hands falling to my waist to grind me back over him.

“I might be a lost cause,” he admits, though half of his focus has been pulled to where skin meets skin. My softness against his hardness. “Maybe it’s too late for me.”

“You’re the furthest thing from a lost cause, Alex.” I position myself over him and sink down. I’m not going to beg him to be with me, but I can show him what he’d be missing if he decided to walk away. The first couple of inches are slow going, but then, just like last night, my body relaxes and welcomes him home. “You feel that?”

His pupils blow wide, and his lips part in wonderment. “Magic.”

Exactly.

Grounding his feet on the floor, he pushes back, swaying us so that I rock against him in a way that make me shiver. “Do that again.”

Rain patters against the wood above us, and a sharp gust of wind stings at my arms as he trails his hands down my back to cup my ass. The warmth of his skin soothes away the chill, somehow making me shiver harder, and he pulls me harder against him with every slow rock of the swing.

Sparks erupt like it’s the Fourth of July, and I choke out a moan, an orgasm creeping up on me so quickly that my breath locks in my lungs.

Sebastian never let me ride him like this. If I was on top—which was most times, considering he’s a lazy, selfish bastard—he said the back-and-forth motion was pointless because it did nothing for him. But one look at Alex’s face as he watches me come apart on top of him reminds me, for the millionth time, that he is nothing like my ex-husband.

Still, I find myself asking, “Is this even doing anything for you?”