Rising (Blue Phoenix, #4)(60)

I prop myself up and stare at him kneeling on the floor in front of me, the sight of his muscled body, his hard length, tightens my stomach with anticipation.

Should I be doing more?

Jem moves up the bed, tautly muscled body covering mine as he presses me into the bed and settles himself between my legs.

“For now, we can do it this way.” His eyes glint. “Later, other ways.”

I’m shaking with the need for this, to have him finish what he’s started. I inhale sharply as the tip of him touches my sensitive flesh, as Jem rubs with the same rhythm as his tongue once did and for the first time ever I’m giving, not accepting. I shuffle my hips closer as he slides down my wetness, holding himself at the edge of where I want him. I wrap a leg around his waist, attempting to pull him closer.

“I have waited too long for this and what makes it better is you’re f-ucking loving it,” growls Jem.

I dig my nails into his side and he rocks against me, slowly, teasingly pushing himself inside then edging back out. I lose the last control I’m holding onto. “Jem, just f-ucking do it!”

“Ah, your mouth… Jesus…” Jem lets go, plunging into me and I gasp as he fills me completely.

I grip him tightly, wrapping my legs around Jem’s waist and dig my nails into his back. Jem has me consumed; body, heart, and soul whether I want him to, or not. We hold each other’s gaze, an intimacy I’ve never had. The final connection, looking into each other’s vulnerabilities, of seeing everything we’re feeling in each other’s expressions ramps up the physical sensations crashing through with each thrust.

Jem slides in and out of me, harder each time, and I match his rhythm with my hips, wanting all of him too. He moves a hand beneath my ass, pulling me upwards as he pushes deeper, bumping my sensitive c-lit with each thrust, sending me spiralling further to a new place. I hold Jem tightly; and he groans pushing his tongue into my mouth, joining the movement we create. I grasp his neck locked into my overloaded senses.

Unable to hold out any longer, the pressure built inside explodes. The tingle spreads, reaching from my scalp to my toes, deep inside. I’m aware of crying out; of gripping him tightly inside as the pleasure comes in waves and I open my eyes, vision blackened by the intensity.

Jem watches as I fall apart in his arms but keeps thrusting. “Holy f-uck, Ruby…” He swears repeatedly and his face changes to pleasure that matches mine, lost in his own intense moment as he closes his eyes and slams into me one last time. He drops onto me, heart thudding against mine, gripping my hair, and covering my face with kisses.

I cling to Jem and he holds me close as we stay in a silent understanding, panting becoming sighs, kisses back to tender and our skin burning against each other. I bury my face into Jem’s shoulder and he strokes my hair. We don’t have words, although I burst to tell him what he did to me, how he showed me that I matter. The intense pleasure still coursing through my body is because this was for us, and not his own satisfaction and I’m fighting the tears that realisation is pushing into my eyes.

“Be right back,” he whispers.

When Jem returns from the bathroom and climbs onto the bed, I rest my cheek on his damp chest and play my fingers along the defined muscles of the body that just connected with mine the way nobody’s ever has. Sex takes on a new understanding, more than a one-sided act for gratification, not something that’s done to me. But with that rushes the fear I shared more than my body at the point he looked into my eyes and saw my soul unhidden. Did Jem give me a glimpse of his too?

“I don’t do all the post-sex loved-up bullshit, by the way,” he says, winding a finger through my hair.

I smile; this is the Jem I expected. “I don’t want you to lie to me. That’s fine.”

“Yeah, mind-melting orgasms I can do, sweet nothings, not so much.”

“It’s okay; you don’t need to apologise.”

“I’m not apologising. I’m stating a fact.” He rubs his nose against mine. “Give me a few minutes and you can have something better than sweet nothings.”

“A few minutes?” I say doubtfully.

“Oh, you bet. There is so much more I want to do with you.”

Jem drags the duvet up so the soft cotton covers our bodies and our hearts slow together, to a shared rhythm. Sometimes words chosen contradict the reality. In this space, with this man, something is different. Whatever sparked between us, and was denied for weeks, has been kindled into something that burns stronger than I think either of us will be able to control.





Chapter Twenty-Five



Jem



Ruby’s light shines through the broken glass of my world creating rainbows and filling my life with colour. What worries me is rainbows are illusions and when the darkness returns they disappear.

We’re closer but the barriers are still there; me and Ruby don’t talk about emotions or share ourselves outside of the physical intimacy. Not that we’re hiding who we are in public, there’s no way I can avoid touching Ruby’s skin or stealing a kiss if I need a kick-start from the darkness.

A week passed since she gave herself to and trusted me, believed I had no expectations. We joke about the fact we’ve dealt with this and have moved on; but Ruby spends the next two days in and out of my bed. I tell myself it’s the sex without drugs that makes the experience different with Ruby; the physical intensity of every sense operating at full capacity is the drug itself. Gradually, I realise I’m lying to myself. It’s Ruby who makes it different.