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Pressure built in me, an unceasing ache between my legs, a burning in my core. Abraham kissed me harder, his mouth bruising mine, taking everything until I writhed on the sheets, my only sensation of silk and skin. His hand ran up my body, caressing my hip and trailing across my stomach until he took hold of my breast in a massaging grip that left me moaning in painful desire as he stroked my flesh. “Please,” I begged, the word nothing more than a gasp. “Please. ”
His mouth lowered to my other breast and drew my nipple in. It was a terrible, erotic torture—the heat and firmness of his tongue and lips, the aching pain of his teeth. I wanted everything. My fingers tangled in his sand-streaked hair and I arched my back to bring us closer. I could feel his desire hard against me, and his size and strength simultaneously scared me and drove me mad. I pulled him back to my mouth for another soul-deep kiss, a meeting and melding that left me shaking.
I wrapped my legs around him. “Please. ”
He groaned and pushed closer. “I don’t want to hurt you. ”
“You won’t. I need you. ”
He pushed himself up on his forearms and stared down at me. He gleamed with sweat and desire, and his eyes took up his whole face, painfully beautiful. “Are you sure?”
“Abraham,” I begged, rocking against him. My hands pulled at his shoulders and my feet slid against his calves. “I need you. Now. ”
He pressed a hot, mind-blowing kiss to my neck and lowered himself slowly into me.
He was so much, so large, and I had never done anything like this before. I could feel my body stretching painfully to accommodate him. My fingers raked down his back, dragging against his skin as I opened my mouth wide. I was on fire, I was nothing, I was everything. He moved down with excruciating slowness, and I let out a long gasp that quickly accelerated into shuddering, moaning cries. I dug into his shoulders and my head fell back as a slice of pain cut through me. My nails cut into his muscles. Oh, God. This was everything. I lay there in perfect stillness, trying to just breathe, just understand. He pressed his mouth to the base of my neck, his breathing labored. “I can stop if you want. ”
“No. ” I moved tentatively and shivers of pleasure rocked through me. “Oh, God. ”
He groaned, as if it was too much. “Tamar, don’t move if you don’t want me to lose control. ”
I kissed him greedily. “I want you. ” I bucked experimentally, and the desire that spiraled out made me greedy for more.
He groaned, and then withdrew slightly and slowly buried himself back in me, sending liquid pleasure through me, heat that coiled and spun, forming connections of building desire that I couldn’t quite grasp. I rocked against him, faster, harder.
And then he lost control, wild now, plunging and plummeting, so quickly that we were both ablaze. There was no control anymore, no anything, just the fierce dance of our bodies, the beat, the rhythm, the everything, and I wanted more and more and I was blind except for him, it had always been him, and it would always be him—
He let out a great shout, a great noise that ripped from his throat. And then I felt the crystalline desire break me apart, a shattering of tension, bringing a great, crashing wave of pleasure and relief that lost the world to me. There was no world. Only the forever of the night and the brightness of the moon, carrying me on a dizzying rush through the stars. I was awash in desire and joy and happiness, aware of only one thing.
Only Abraham.
* * *
Sometime later, I curled into his side and smiled. “Guess what?”
He smiled back at me, that perfect expression of tenderness and steadiness that he always regarded me with. “What?”
“Turned out I liked that. ”
His brows rose. “Enough for a round two?”
I straddled him and pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw. “You better believe it. In fact, I may never leave this bed again. ”
He laughed, and pulled me down.
* * *
We actually didn’t leave the apartment until Sunday morning, which was the day of Briana and Malcolm’s wedding.
We woke early and headed over to my apartment, since I’d spent that last twenty-four hours mainly naked, and figured it wouldn’t be totally appropriate to wear one of Abe’s jerseys.
My roommates, who had ascertained where I was Saturday morning for safety purposes, still raised their brows when I walked inside, followed by Abe in a suit.
None of them said anything, but they definitely smirked.
I really only owned two nice dresses—the one I’d worn my first day of work, which was boring, and the red one—but Sabeen had promised to lend me one. When I stepped into her room, she arched a brow. “So?”
I shrugged and grinned. I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty certain I hadn’t stopped grinning since Friday night. “So it was good. We’re good. Abe and me. ”
Her other brow flew up to join the first. “You two hadn’t before?”
I shook my head. “Actually, um—actually I hadn’t at all before. ”
She broke out in a sudden grin. “Are you sore?”
“Well, yes,” I said dryly. “That is the one unfortunate thing. ”
But even that couldn’t keep my smile away.
I ended up in a plum-colored dress with a sheer black high neckline. Abe told me I looked beautiful.
I wondered if he always thought I looked beautiful, rather like I always thought he did. It was a nice thought.
I’d never been to a peer’s wedding before. When I thought on it, I’d never actually been to a Christian wedding before, just several of my parents’ friends when I was a kid. They were all hippies, and I couldn’t remember a white dress between the lot.
Wedding season for the NFL rarely lined up with wedding season for the rest of the world, since they had so little downtime. The saying went that there was no off-season in football, just the time when games were played and the time when they weren’t. Football players got a little time off after the Super Bowl, and a whole handful of marriages started then.
But Briana Harris wanted a winter wedding.
Malcolm hailed from Kentucky and Briana from California, so they decided to have the wedding in New York. Which was convenient, since they’d apparently invited the entire Leopards team and everyone who worked with them.
The wedding and receptions were both held at the Central Park Boathouse. Bright floor-to-ceiling windows let in light. There was a strange beauty to winter that I still wasn’t used to, especially the way the clouds streaked across the cold blue sky, the way the cold light managed to be stunning, the way the blankets of snow sparkled like diamonds and topped the barren branches like exquisite art.
Rachael Hamilton dropped down in the pew next to me. “Pretty day, huh?”
“I like the snow much better from the inside. ”
She laughed. “I forgot you were from California. So’s Bri, you know. I have no idea why she wanted a winter wedding. ”
“Technically, it’s still fall. ”
She snorted. “It’s winter from November to April here. March, if you’re lucky. ”
I peered at her. “You live a very sad life, here in the northeast. ”
She waved a hand. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else. But you—what made you move here?”
“My job. ”