On the Edge (Full Throttle #2)

by K. Bromberg

Here’s to an adventure, Maddix. And to accepting what I’ve sacrificed to get there. You’ve got this, Hart. You’ve got this.

Will she get frustrated with me? She’s structure and I’m chaos. Will she want to fight all the time? She’s black and white and I’m most definitely all shades of gray. Will she prevent me from letting loose? She’s rules and I’m anarchy. Will she struggle with the lifestyle I lead? She’s perfectly folded clothes in a dresser drawer, and I’m an open suitcase with everything thrown into it in complete disarray.

An intoxicated Maddix Hart is an uninhibited one, and hell if it isn’t sexy to watch her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she rubs her fingers back and forth over her clit.

She’s a goddamn siren, and I’m about to crash on her rocks as she moans out—her body tensing and thighs tightening against my hips. Her pussy pulses all around me, wave after wave as I slow my strokes so she can sink into her orgasm. But the minute her breath hitches again, I’m a goddamn goner. My hands grip and hips hit over and over and over. The sound of slick skin. The scent of sex. The feel of her wet heat gripping me. I cry out when I come. My vision goes white.

Then black. And when I open my eyes before I collapse and roll off her, all I see is Maddix. Gorgeous. Un...

The kiss is a torrent of hunger. Of desire. Of fulfilling wants that have been building minute by minute, hour by hour, day by fucking day. It’s perfection.

Our tongues meet and lick against one another’s as my body screams for his touch. For any kind of connection with him because this is what I’ve been wanting. What I’ve been craving.

“Cruz—”

“That. That is all I’ve wanted to do every second of every day since I was last inside you.” He kisses me senselessly again until my body is melting against his. “For the record? I lied. I remember every goddamn minute of that night. It’s been torture wanting you. So you can say it was a mistake. You can claim you don’t want me again, but fuck that, Madds.” He gives another delectable kiss. “Because you do and I’m not believing your bullshit this time around. There will be no yachts. No dates with friends. Because I’m here and this time I’m taking what I want.”

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Madds,”

“Lay back. Let me look at you,” he murmurs. “Last time was in the dark. Last time I didn’t get to see all of you. This time I’m not missing the chance . . . and fuck.”

“You’re not getting this cock until your goddamn good and ready. So make yourself ready. Just like that. I want to watch. I want my balls to hurt I want you so bad. So play away, Madds. With yourself. With your games. You want to seduce me? Baby, I’m goddamn good and seduced.”

“Just because it’s been weeks since I last had you, it doesn’t make the want any less. I’m going to fuck you, Maddix. You’re going to take every goddamn inch of me, and I’m going to fuck you until my cock is soaked and my balls are dripping with proof of what I do to you. The only words I want on your lips are Cruz and more. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He quirks a brow. “Already breaking rules?” He pats my pussy with force and the jolt to the nerves is an unexpected tu...

“M...

“There’s my...

“I can handle you,” I say, my smile strained with need.

“Oh, I know you can and you will.”

“Tell me when, baby, because it’s the best fucking torture being buried this deep in you.”

“Madds.” My name is a swear word of pleasure as he begins to move. Slowly at first. Diligently. Strategically. “Keep touching yourself,” he murmurs. “Show me what you like. What you want. How to touch you.”

“That’s it, Madds. I can feel you tightening. Can feel you dripping. Can . . . there it is. Come for me. Come on my fucking cock for me.”

I’m lost to reason. To my surroundings. To everything but the feelings inside me and the man still braced above me.

“And I especially like you like this. Desperate. Wanting. Your eyes dark. Your cock hard.”

“I want to taste you, Cruz. I want to feel you hit the back of my throat. I want to hear my name on your lips. I want you at my mercy.”

Have me, Madds. Fuckin...

This woman. I’ve gone toe-to-toe with my father for her. I’ve tried to be a bigger person for her. I’ve even gotten jealous over her. What the fuck is happening?

“Thank you for today. For this. For being my friend in all of this when you could resent me for this whole thing.”

Never. The word dances through my head but dies on my tongue. Resent her for this? How, when for the first time ever, someone has made me look forward to days that aren’t race days?

Hands. I feel them sliding over my skin. Lips. Lazy kisses down my shoulder. The slip of the sheet and the cool air of the bedroom. A lazy circle of tongue around my nipple.

“Cruz,”

“I can fuck you with my tongue, Madds, or I can get in the elevator and leave. Your choice.”

“And this is why I’m not coming with you right away.”

“Coming is the name of the game.”

“I love the way you fucking taste,” he murmurs, the heat of his breath against my most intimate flesh.

“Cruz.” His name is a guttural moan as my fingers grip his hair tighter.

“I love when you say it like that.” A lick. “Desperate.” A suck. “Breathless.” A delve of his tongue into me that has my hips bucking up so he can probe deepe...

“This makes me so fucking hard. Smelling you. Tasting you. Having you come on my tongue.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Cruz?” Let me reciprocate. Let me feel you inside of me. I start to sit up and he leans over and kisses me one more time.

“After the race. Leave me hungry for it.” He leans back and the smile lights up his eyes. “I like to leave my woman satisfied and wanting more.”

But as he walks out the door, it doesn’t bug me like it might have when this first started. Rather it has me hugging my pillow and smiling. Leave me hungry for it. Doesn’t he know that’s a permanent state for me when it comes to him?

“Find the Cross behind the Cruz. He’s the good man. He’s the one he hides from the world. When you see him, you’ll know the man I love. The one I’m proud to call my brother. All of this”—she motions to the grandstands and the pomp and circumstance—“it’s just window dressing for the kid underneath who is scared to death no one is going to love him if he doesn’t perform and live up to ridiculous expectations.”

“You’re fucking addicting,”

“This mouth. This mind. This body. This pussy. The whole goddamn package.” He slips his tongue between my lips. “You look so goddamn gorgeous just like this, right now, that I don’t want to mess you up.”

“Hold your dress with one hand,”

“Good. Just like that.” His praise is like a feather over my skin. My core aches. “Now turn around and put the other hand against the door.”

“We don’t have much time. As soon as the auction is over, people will get to roam these halls. I’m desperate for you.” He slides the head of his cock up and down my slit, his own groan causing the coil in my stomach to tighten. “Have been all night, but I’m about to make a mess of you, and I can’t have that on your dress now, can I?” He chuckles and my nipples harden.

“Cruz.” It’s a plea.

“Can you take what I’m about to give you a...