The Edge of the World

Chapter Twenty-Three

Throughout the night, passion sought solace through them. They reached for one another in their sleep, waking each other with pleasure. The moment their boundaries fell, a sexual and spiritual equinox occurred, where their past lives crossed into the present, and none could tell the other apart. Only the originals remained hidden, the rules regarding those mysterious agreements made kept them suppressed in the darkest recesses of Tatum and Ian's minds.

The reunion between lovers was so overpowering, neither of them left the bed beyond seeking food during the night. They didn't dress, or move beyond the door of the cabin, their need being all they could focus on. Their hunger was incorrigible, and like the vampire needs blood, they experienced satiation which could only be found in one another's arms.

It was late in the night, and he sat with his back against the wall, holding her between his legs, the blankets covering them only from the waist down. Her head rested on his shoulder while he traced the ink on her inner thighs.

"Besides the fact he was a douche, what prompted you to kill your husband?"

She sighed, wondering if she really wanted to talk about dark times, or give Ian head. His fingers brushing her flesh, so close to her wet apex sent delicious tingles all down her body, her muscles writhing beneath her skin. She longed to stretch out and let him caress her breasts and folds... and other places he'd already conquered. She wanted more.

When it came to him, she always wanted more.

"I guess it all started when he stopped forcing me to go to church."

Her eyes grew heavy, laden with want as he brushed his thumb along the crease of her thigh. His breath tickled the hair at her temple, his hot, smooth muscular chest pressed against her bare back. She shifted, trying to find comfort against the arousal he was inciting. How on earth did this fool think she could focus like this? His provocative teasing was driving her crazy, but she was powerless to stop him.

"Stopped making you go to church?" He was urging her now, gently prodding her to tell him, and she would because he asked it of her.

"Mm-hmm," she purred as he brought his free hand to rest high on her abdomen, his knuckles brushing the undersides of her breasts.

"You live in Bull Valley, Texas, your ass goes to church. You don't devote yourself to the faith, you're basically ostracized. Tony's father had a political agenda, and didn't want his name sullied by crossing the church. That means no divorcing, and his family will go to church. Cross the church in that town they will make damn sure you live in misery."

Ian shuddered at the thought, leaning in to lave the side of her neck with his wet tongue, before blowing the flesh dry. Her head lulled back, and he grinned into her hair, loving how her body responded so easily to his touch.

"So, divorce is frowned upon, but child brides are okay?"

Eyes closed in unmitigated pleasure, she scoffed, "Yeah. I guess that's how it is. Anyway, at first, I was relieved he wasn't making me dress up and go there. I hated walking through the doors of that church. The women judged, the men coveted, and the entire scene was like something out of a Stephen King novel. They sang hymns to Jesus while sickness grew inside them. Hypocrites. All of them."

She inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed over her clit, then quickly moved back down, leaving her wanting. Jerk.

"Keep talking, Tatum. What happened?"

Tatum rolled her head from side to side on his shoulder, dazed from the need mounting its unforgiving pressure in her core.

"H-he changed, as I said. He stopped, oh God, doc!" his dinger circled her hardened nipple as he stroked her neck with his lips.