Love in the Dark (LarssonSiblingsSeries#1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - DELILAH*

(SEXUAL CONTENT)

DELILAH

"How are you this damn energetic?"

I bounce on the bed and fall back on the pillow, moving onto my side to stroke Edward's cheek while he speaks. The paleness he's sporting this morning gives away his hangover. It's nine o'clock on a Saturday morning, and there is no way he's getting into work any earlier than noon.

The guy is feeling it.

I lean in to kiss his lips. "I never get hangovers."

Edward groans into the kiss and pulls my body so I'm flush with his front. "How is that possible?"

The gravelly tone in his voice is so sexy it takes him squeezing my hip for me to answer. "I don't know, because I'm perfect?"

He switches his darkening gaze all over my face, like he wants to absorb every bit of me before turning his face to groan louder into the pillow. "That would explain things," he murmurs into the feather stuffing.

I drag my nails through his hair, wanting to see his face. "Are you suffering from last night?"

"You could say that, yeah. I'm trying my hardest to remember how the night went, but come up short. The last thing I recall doing is dancing with you," he says, and it disappoints me.

Experiencing him letting go of everything last night was the best part of it for me. We had such fun together. We dirty danced, snogged like teenagers, drank our body weight in flavoured gin and even got a greasy kebab on the way home. It was perfect.

"It's all a blur from then?" I question.

"Yes," he winces, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't make a fool of myself, did I? Or make a fool of you?"

I watch his profile while he waits on tenterhooks for me to answer his question. He's listening intently, his expression unreadable. So, I put him out of his misery, celebrating the fact he's letting me scratch my nails over his bare back. "I don't think so. My memory is still all there."

"Good," he says, letting out a lungful of air before alarm is back in his features and he's lifting the duvet to check himself out. "We didn't have sex, did we?"

I sit back, hurting over his panic. Those kisses we shared were enough to know he was up for it.  "Would it be so terrible?" I respond.

He reaches for the pillow behind his head to squash the higher on the headboard so his skull isn't pressing on the hardwood. "The last thing I want is to be slobbering drunk all over you. If we did, I apologise, you deserve better."

Is it crazy to go from resentment to respect in the space of a second? He sounds so sincere it actually... excites me. It means he cares enough to feel bad about our first time being forgettable to him. 

I reach out to trace the spiky bits of his facial hair, admiring the way his blue eyes shine, conveying his feeling when he looks at me. "We did nothing but sleep."

I know he's trying to stop his relief from being so obvious, but it isn't working. Then he switches it up, the duvet making loud crinkling sounds when he crowds in on me. "I want to remember every moment of my cock sinking inside of you."

I'm at a loss for words. His eyes flick up to watch my face, checking for my reaction when his fingers smooth over my backside. I stare dumbly, trying to make sense of my rushing thoughts when he lowers his head to brush soft kisses across my collarbones.

I shudder and push further into him. "I want you to make me come." 

Fuel to the fire, he lets out a deep groan, stroking his thumb across my nipple that's showing through the lacy bra. "You want me to touch you here?"