Rough Edge (The Edge #1)(10)

I pushed my hard cock against her ass, and she didn’t finish the sentence. “Then you’re excused.”

I grabbed her breast harder than I normally would. She was mine. I would not be undercut, and I would not compete. I pulled her nightgown up and yanked down her underwear. Our eyes met over her shoulder as I got my cock out.

“I can’t lean on the wrist for long,” she said.

“I’m aware.” Running the head of my dick along her seam, I spread her wetness onto myself, then I lodged myself in her. She gasped.

Normally, I’d gently slide in, but not this time. Something more primal called, and I shoved another few inches inside.

Yeah.

Just like I thought.

The Thing was horrified.

“Let’s get pressure off that wrist.” I took her by the biceps and pulled her arms behind her, holding them together with one hand. “Better?”

“Yes.” Her head dropped forward.

“This is going to be different,” I said.

“No shit.”

I hesitated. My desire to show the Thing my dominance couldn’t be satisfied at her expense. I loosened my grip on her arms just a little.

“Don’t…” She stopped, took a deep breath, and turned her head as much as she could. “Don’t stop. I’ll let you know.” Her hips pushed into me.

Gently, I gathered her hair with my free hand and wrapped it around my fist, then I yanked her head back as I entered her with full force.

She screamed through her teeth. “God! Caden!”

Her cunt pulsed around me as I hesitated again.

“Say no,” I growled.

“Yes.”

I fucked her so rough, I didn’t expect her to come so hard and so quickly. I kept fucking her, holding her arms behind her, pulling her hair as if it were a bridle. I unleashed deep inside her, bruising her arms with my grasp.

Right there, a whirlwind spun around us as I pounded her, whipping me into a confusion of desire and need, surrender and dominance. Even as I thrust forward physically, mentally I was spun by the force of it. Flipped like a coin, revolving in the air, landing, settling on the mattress.

The whirlwind fell away, and there was only Greyson under me.

The kind, sweet Thing shrank back into the shadows, weeping.

Take that, you fuck.





Chapter Six





Greyson





In the weeks after he took me from behind in the middle of the night, we went back to normal. The episode seemed like a pleasurable blip in a pleasurable routine.

We were meeting at the Mt. Sinai fundraiser. It was a cutting day. When he arrived at the fundraiser, he’d smell of rubbing alcohol and cologne if he’d put some on, fresh coffee grounds and cut grass if he hadn’t. He’d touch my shoulder. He’d run his finger along the edge of my strapless gown. At home, we’d barely make it in the door before he’d strip me naked and take me. Yes, it was predictable. Some things were worth predicting.

I crawled into the back of the car where my younger brother, Colin, waited. He was an engineer who’d been inspired to go to college after I’d found a way to go to med school, and he’d moved to New York for a job just as I was settling in. The education had done nothing to tamp his roguish ways.

“You look nice,” he said when I slid in next to him. He flicked one of my dangling earrings.

“You do too.” I straightened his black bow tie as the limo coasted toward the museum.

He shooed my hand away. “Thanks for the plus one.”

“Try to keep off the ladies.”

“What’s the fun in that when I have to watch your husband with his hands all over you?”

“Stop it.”

“You two are so in love it makes me sick.”

I looked away, trying to hide my silent laughter. “What happened to you and that woman? The painter? She seemed nice.”

“She wanted things.”

“Things?”

“Promises. Commitments. Me. I have things I’m doing. I can’t get sidetracked by a pretty face.” He tapped his knee for a second. “Or all the other things. Whatever. How’s the practice coming?”

“Not bad,” I said. “Better.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. We’re here. Put your jacket on.”



* * *



The event took place in a ballroom lined with Regency-era portraits and heavy drapery. I plucked a champagne flute from a server’s silver tray and Colin did the same.

“This is lovely.” He scanned the room like a cheetah selecting the weakest in the herd.

“Behave.”

“Oh, your friend Jenn is here. I like her,” he purred.

I elbowed him as Jenn saw us and headed over. She was awkward in heels and her fat black glasses always slid down her nose, but her smile was a beacon of light against her brown skin. We greeted each other, and she swapped her empty flute for a full one.

“Easy there, tiger,” Colin said.

Jenn took no shit, and she was a terrible flirt. “I’m grown, but thank you.”

“He’s on the make,” I offered.

“Good luck with that.” She tipped her glass to him, and he responded with a clink. “Ronin’s here,” she said to me.