Chapter 28: Intimacy

"I wish every woman looked at me like that after sex."

Ed brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes before quickly withdrawing his touch and rolling onto his back, like he'd thought better of it. I remained still, lying on my side with my elbow helping to prop up my head.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like I'm the best thing to grace this Earth."

I grinned. "Think your ego is misinterpreting my post-sex haze."

"Why wouldn't you look at me like that, though? I just gave you five orgasms."

"And you didn't do the same for Lucia?" I raised an eyebrow.

He pressed his lips together, a faint crease drawing across his forehead. Regret tinged his eyes as he darted a glance towards me. With a gentle sigh, he scraped a hand over the lower half of his face.

"Sorry," he said. "It's not particularly tactful of me to mention sex with other women when I'm lying next to you."

"You're out of practice so I'll let you off."

Ed shifted onto his side to bring us face to face again. "Reminding me that you're not out of practice isn't very tactful, either."

Smiling, I nudged my knee against his. "Guess we've both fucked up the pillow talk, then."

"Hard to have pillow talk without emotions." A twinkle in his eye accompanied his dry tone.

"Right," I said with an exaggerated nod. "No emotions. On that basis, I give you permission to talk about other women. So... Lucia?"

A grin spread across his face, and those cute dimples twisted my insides into a ball of mush.

"You're not giving me permission. You're prying."

"And? The last woman you slept with was a supermodel. Am I not allowed to feel insecure about that?"

He breathed out a soft laugh but shook his head like he didn't believe me.

"Let me guess..." I reached across the tiny gap between us to trace a finger over the taut ridges of his abs. "She smashed and dashed?"

Although Ed shook his head again, the apologetic smile at the edge of his mouth suggested it was a shake of dismissal rather than denial.

"Can't talk about it, Soph. NDA."

My stomach dipped with guilt. "Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot about that. Sorry."

"It's fine."

Sitting up in bed, he ran a hand through his ruffled hair and then reached down for his boxers. An unfamiliar panic churned inside me at the prospect that this was now over.

"Where are you going?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"Kitchen so you have the chance to sneak out without me noticing."

There was no resentment behind his answer. We'd said no emotions, and emotionless sex didn't require polite pillow talk and cuddling. But still, as soon as I left this suite, the bubble would burst. I wasn't ready for that.

I leaned across him and plucked the black boxers from between his fingertips, tossing them further away. They landed on top of my dress next to the coffee table.

"Maybe I'm not done yet," I said.

Ed arched a brow at me. "After five orgasms? Seriously, how bad were the other guys if you're still not satisfied?"

I didn't rise to the bait. To keep up the pretence, he had to believe this was still about scratching an itch.

So instead of biting back, I pulled him down onto the bed and shuffled to kneel between his legs. A mixture of amusement and intrigue simmered through his eyes as I lowered my mouth to his chest and flicked my tongue over a nipple. This was what I'd fantasised about: his beautiful body, all to myself.

Working my way southwards, I dipped my tongue into the smooth grooves of his washboard abs, his skin salty from the sweat we'd worked up. When my lips met his semi-hard cock, I guided him into my mouth.

With a groan, Ed's fingers loosely twisted into my hair to encourage my head up and down. He was gentle and almost passive, letting me go at my own pace this time, and considering my jaw hadn't yet recovered from its stellar efforts earlier, I was secretly thankful.

Once he was hard again, I straddled his lap, grasped the base of his shaft, and lifted my hips to sink down onto him.

"Wait." His gasp was breathless and clouded with arousal, but his palm flattened over my stomach, stopping me.

As I opened my mouth to question him, his spare hand flew over to the bedside table, yanking the top drawer and fumbling around inside.

Oh, shit.

"I'm so sorry." Heat warmed my cheeks. "I didn't even—"

"It's fine." He tore open the packet and rolled on the condom, then seized my hips and slammed me down so hard that I felt him in my stomach.

"Fuck!" One of my hands shot out to grab the headboard as the other latched onto his shoulder. My thighs burned with fatigue and my insides felt raw from the rough sex earlier, but I still craved more. More of this, more of him, more of us. "Just give me a sec."

He murmured an acknowledgement against the underside of my jaw while his thumbs brushed small circles over my hipbones. His lips then floated upwards, and the heat of his breath warmed my ear.

"Don't force it if you're too sore."

There was a sensitive warmth to his tone, one that curled down my spine and wrapped around my heart.

"I'm good," I assured him.

To demonstrate, I rolled my hips as I adjusted. A groan rumbled from his chest, his head tipping back to rest against the headboard, his palms curving around my waist, squeezing, following the gentle rhythm of my rocking.

Seeing him beneath me, showing such restraint and respect, lit a fire deep in my core. It burned me from the inside out. I leaned back and planted my hands on his knees behind me, grinding harder onto him, lifting up and sinking down, clamping my thighs around his hips, memorising the feel of his dick inside me.

"You're so hot." His hand skated up my back to draw me nearer until I was close enough for him to suck a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak, sending a zip of electricity straight between my legs.

I moaned and raked my fingers through his hair, writhing beneath the skill of his mouth, consumed by the pleasure coursing through my body. As I rode him faster, his lips seared a hasty path up the centre of my chest and along the column of my throat. His tongue pushed into my mouth, forceful and assertive, twisting with my own in a dirty, wet kiss, the kind only shared in the throes of passion when intentional technique gave way to primal instinct.

"I'm gonna come," I gasped, tearing my lips away from his and tugging harder on his hair.

"Fuck." His hands flew to my hips, and he began to pump upwards in time with my rhythm, so hard and fast that my own movements lost their precision.

The orgasm tore through me, far more powerful than it should have been for my sixth one that evening, and my walls clamped around his throbbing length as he spilled into the condom.

"Fuck, yes, Soph. Fuck. Fuck..."

It shouldn't be this good. That was my only thought as I buried my face in his shoulder, inhaling the faint spiciness of his cologne. His palms were gentle when they floated up my spine. One cradled the nape of my neck, while the other curved around the back of my head to hold me against him.

There was an intimacy about the embrace. Our chests, crushed together, rose and fell in sync. It lulled me into a deep state of relaxation that only ended when Ed cleared his throat and dropped his hands from my body.

"I need to get rid of the condom."

And my earlier shame surged to the surface. I rolled off him to lie on my back, where I stared up at the ceiling until he returned from the ensuite.

"I'm so sorry, Ed."

I tipped my head to watch him hop up onto the bed. He hadn't put his clothes back on, and that triggered a strange sense of comfort in me, like the bubble was still intact, creating a shielded environment for this conversation to take place.

"Sorry for what?" His brow furrowed as he lay down beside me.

"Forgetting the condom. I wasn't thinking straight. I've used one with everyone else."

"That's not why I stopped you." He rolled onto his side to face me. "It wasn't because you've been with other people, Soph. I swear."

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "It's fine if it was. We've never had the conversation about being clean. But I actually meant it in a literal sense. I've never had sex without a condom before. Ever."

The confession hung between us as Ed's gaze sparked with surprise. Something more vulnerable then crossed his face.

"I haven't either." The words floated out of his mouth quietly. After a pause, he added, "So even when you were with Mike, you never...?"

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Mike had asked once, but I'd said no. He'd respected that and never mentioned it again, putting the decision entirely in my hands so I wouldn't feel pressured. It also meant I never suggested it myself either. Anxiety already wreaked havoc with my mind; stress over potential pregnancies would be an avoidable addition.

"I've been on the pill since I was eighteen, but it's still not one hundred percent reliable, so I wanted the extra precaution. It wasn't that I didn't trust him, I just..."

"You don't have to explain," he said softly. "I get it. Trust is such a multifaceted thing. It's not just about the moment, but how you'd feel afterwards, the decision you're both making together, the possible consequences..."

He trailed off, and it didn't take a genius to interpret the hidden meaning behind his words and why he'd never dared have unprotected sex before.

"Do you trust me?" As soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back. But I couldn't, so I tried to backpedal instead. "In general, I mean. Not in this context."

Ed's fingers found mine on top of the duvet and squeezed.

"Sorry," I said with a smile to defuse the tension. "That's a very loaded question when we're naked in bed without any emotions between—"

"I trust you, Soph."

His blue eyes locked onto mine, sincere and gentle, and my heart lurched. Hours earlier we'd been tearing chunks out of each other with words. Now an intimate vulnerability hung between us. Almost all guards were down, and yet the urge to run never materialised.

"Even with how things have been between us recently?" I dared to ask.

He smiled. "Especially with how things have been recently. I know I had the moment of panic with Mac, but I swear I do trust you. You prove it to me every day."

"How?"

"Because every day that passes is another day of you not looking at that memory stick."

My mind drifted to the safe in my room where that memory stick had sat untouched for months. Nobody knew it was there apart from me, but somehow Ed could tell I hadn't looked at it.

"How do you know I haven't?"

"You haven't asked me about it. If you'd looked, you'd have questions."

I brushed my fingers over his knuckles as the weight of his response settled between us. Obviously the contents of the stick intrigued me, but if he wanted me to know, he'd tell me himself.

"I respect your privacy," I said. "You don't get much of it."

His strained smile tugged at my heartstrings. Every extra second I spent in bed with him chipped away the hardened layers I'd built between us. Weeks of effort down the drain. And the longer I lay there, the more my resilience disintegrated, and the less I wanted to leave. Not having to put up a front was a refreshing change, and as soon as I left the suite, we'd be back to pretending. For now, I wanted to squeeze every last drop of reality from us.

So I leaned towards his mouth and slid my lips over his. He kissed me back gently, so different to the desperate kiss mid-sex and nothing like the savage kiss on the landing outside. The contrast sent my head spinning and my pulse racing, because while they were poles apart, they had one thing in common: him.

As we broke away, the tip of Ed's nose brushed across mine, his hand gliding under my thigh to hitch my leg over his hip. I melted into the hard contours of his body and skated the tips of my fingers over his shoulders to play with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

"You looked beautiful tonight." His thumb smoothed over my lower lip. "Want to know a secret?"

"Of course."

"Promise you won't run a mile?"

"I'm quite comfortable right here." But my heart jackhammered against my chest, because I was terrified that whatever he wanted to say could tear down my last remaining barricade.

"Earlier, when I got on my knees and gave you the control, I've never done that with anyone before."

"Never?"

He shook his head. "Sex is one of the only times I can be in control. Obviously I'm not always going to extremes like I do with you, but I never willingly take the control away from myself either."

In other words, he didn't ask Lucia to suck his dick with her hands behind her back. Good to know.

"So why did you?" I asked.

"Because I could tell you were pushing yourself to your limit," he said. "I wanted to give you something in return, so you'd feel like you had a bit of power back. Equally I just wanted to get on my knees and worship you for trying so hard with me."

I had nothing to say to that, nothing that could be taken back once it left my mouth. Maybe my face said what my words didn't, though, because he pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. Then another. And another. His hand drifted over the dip in my waist before settling on my hip to draw me closer.

"Can you go again?" I murmured against his lips.

His mouth curved against mine in response. "Can you?"

"I can if you're slow and gentle with me."

Too late, I realised the insinuation of my words. One dark eyebrow shot up as Ed leaned back to look at me, and a tight coil of dread twisted in my stomach.

"Actually," I said, "maybe we—"

He pushed me onto my back and rolled on top. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Lucky for you, I happen to be fantastic at slow and gentle."

"Of course you are." But my sarcastic retort lacked sass, embarrassment still seeping through despite his efforts to brush my slip-up under the carpet.

He put on a condom, then settled himself between my thighs. Fuck, he looked handsome. Smooth skin, rippling muscles, piercing blue eyes. Streetlight sneaking in through the gap in the curtains cast shadows across the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the supple flesh of his lips. I never wanted to leave this bed.

"You sure about this?" He hovered above me, his gaze aflame with desire yet compassion.

"Very sure."

Instead of slamming into me like he had on the last two rounds, Ed dotted light kisses across my shoulder, over the curve of my neck, and along my jawline. As he reached my mouth, he slowly pushed into me, his palms sliding over mine, our fingers threading together.

Even I couldn't dress this up as something different, not when his hands squeezed mine with each gentle thrust, not when his lips traced silky paths along the column of my throat, and not when my tired legs wrapped around his back to encourage his rhythm, relaxed and almost lazy, like it was second nature and we enjoyed each other's bodies enough that we didn't need to turn it into something more intense or passionate or erotic.

"Are you close?" He whispered the question against my ear, then pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my cheekbone.

For once I didn't care about reaching the end goal. Not even an orgasm could bring me higher than this ethereal feeling of being so connected to another person. His heart thumped against my chest, and my own met it beat for beat, synchronising, drawing from its energy to power the tranquil blood that coasted through my veins.

"Soph?"

To avoid his question, I slanted my lips over his again, moaning when his tongue brushed against mine. His tender thrusts deepened as he gasped into my mouth, and I inhaled the hot breath of air that escaped from his parted lips.

When he broke away, he released my hands and eased out, his mouth trailing over my chest and down my stomach. Large palms bracketed my waist while his tongue dipped into my navel, traced my hipbones, skimmed over my inner thigh.

"Ed." I reached down to clasp a hand around his shoulder. "I won't. But it's fine."

He peered up at me from between my legs. "Do you want to stop?"

"No. Definitely not. But even the world's best vibrator couldn't squeeze another orgasm out of me."

Mocking offense, Ed climbed back up my body until his forearms stopped on either side of my shoulders. "I'm better than a vibrator, surely?"

I smiled and relaxed beneath the heavy weight of his ripped body again, this conversation far more in my comfort zone. With a quiet groan, he pushed into me once more and threaded his fingers through mine again.

"Make you a deal," he said in my ear. "Stay the night, and I'll deliver that final orgasm in the morning."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. We hadn't just dipped a toe over the line: we'd taken a huge stride over it. No matter what tomorrow brought, and no matter how Ed tried to disguise the real reason I didn't care about an orgasm, we couldn't pretend this hadn't happened.

And yet, I still didn't want it to stop.

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Thank you for reading :) xx  

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A quicker update this time because the previous one was delayed! How do you think things will be in the morning?