Chapter 13 #3
His hands landed on my thighs, palms hot against bare skin, and his eyes dropped to the place where my shorts had ridden higher before lifting back to my face.
“Benefits,” he said, voice rough with amusement and something much darker. “Sure.”
I narrowed my eyes even though I was breathless and sitting on my kitchen counter with his hips between my knees. “Do not mock the agreement.”
“I agreed.”
“You’re mocking it with your face.”
“My face thinks you’re full of shit.”
“My face thinks you’re an arrogant jackass.”
He leaned in, mouth brushing mine. “Your face looks like it wants me to keep kissing you.”
I hated that I had no comeback.
He took my silence as permission because it absolutely was, and kissed me again.
This time was worse.
Slower at first, but only because he was making a point. His mouth moved over mine with filthy patience, dragging the kiss deep enough that my spine softened and my fingers slid into his hair. He made a sound when I tugged, low in his chest, and that sound turned my body to liquid.
His hands moved from my thighs to my waist, then back down again, like he was memorizing what he had access to now. My knees tightened around his hips. His mouth left mine only to drag along my jaw, and when his teeth grazed the sensitive place beneath my ear, my breath shattered.
“Cade.”
His whole body reacted to his name like I had pulled a trigger.
His hand slid up my back, holding me to him as his mouth returned to mine, hungrier now, rougher.
The kiss turned messy fast, all heat and breath and the slick slide of tongues while his hips pressed closer between my thighs.
My body arched into him before my pride could stop it, and he caught the movement with a growl that made me forget every single reason I had started this conversation in the first place.
Physical only.
Right.
Very academic…Very controlled... Very me sticking to what was best for me while actively trying to crawl inside his shirt.
He broke the kiss just long enough to look at me, eyes dark, mouth swollen from mine, one hand braced on the counter beside my hip like he needed the support to keep from doing something that would make us unforgivably late.
“You’re dangerous,” I whispered.
His mouth curved. “You’re fire.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Something in the way he said it made my chest tighten.
Dangerous. Dangerous. Dangerous.
I tried to pull the moment back into safer territory because that look on his face was not casual. It was not benefits. It was not a man agreeing to temporary access because it was convenient.
It was Cade deciding something and somehow that scared me more than his hands ever could.
I pressed my palms lightly against his chest. “We have to go.”
“We do.”
Neither of us moved.
His eyes dropped to my mouth again.
“Cade.”
“Pip.”
The nickname came out full of warning and amusement and a little bit of possession that made my thighs tighten around him before I could stop it.
He noticed and his smile turned wicked.
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you said benefits, Pip.”
“And?”
“And I’m not a man who leaves terms undefined.”
The world tipped sideways as Cade’s hands clamped onto my hips and lifted me straight off the kitchen counter. My squeal was half-laugh, half-shock, echoing against the cabinets.
“Cade! What are you—”
“Giving you what you asked for.”
“We have Sunday dinner, and my dad will absolutely call if we’re late with the potatoes.”
“Then stop distracting me,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against my stomach as he slung me over his shoulder for a second, then slid me down until my legs locked around his waist. “Benefits start now.”
“That is not how formal agreements work.”
“It is when both parties are half-naked in spirit and lying through their teeth.”
“I am not lying.”
His laugh was low and mean in the best way. “Pip, you called this casual while looking at me like you wanted to climb me in your kitchen.”
He was already moving, striding out of the kitchen and down the hall toward my bedroom. I was laughing, breathless, my sandals dangling from my toes. “We have to leave for Sunday dinner—”
“They can eat without us. Academic oral exam or some shit,” he shot back, shouldering my bedroom door open.
The afternoon sun streamed through my blinds, striping the rumpled comforter. In one fluid motion, he dropped me onto the bed. The bounce made me gasp, laughter still bubbling in my throat.
He didn’t give me a second to recover. His hands wrapped around my ankles and yanked, pulling me to the edge of the mattress until my ass was right on the precipice. His eyes, usually so full of easy humor, were dark. Focused.
“These have got to go,” he said, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my jean shorts.
He didn’t bother with the button or zipper. He just pulled, hard. The denim and the thin cotton of my panties slid down my thighs, over my knees, and off in one rough, efficient motion. The cool air of the room hit my exposed skin, and a fresh wave of nervous heat followed.
“Bossy.”
“You like bossy.”
“I tolerate bossy.”
“You melt for bossy.”
He pushed my knees apart, his hands firm on the inside of my thighs. He just looked for a moment, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face.
“I do not.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
He dropped to his knees, his hands gripping my thighs to spread me open to his gaze. “Fuck, perfect.”
“Do not say that like you’re evaluating produce.”
“I’m evaluating my new favorite problem.” His hands rubbed over me, making me crazy.
“Cade,” I breathed, propping myself up on my elbows. My heart hammered against my ribs.
“FaceTime did not do you justice, Pip,” he murmured, his voice dropping into that teasing, dirty tone that made my stomach flip. “Your pussy is so much prettier in real life. Fuck.”
Before I could even process the compliment—or the sheer audacity of it—his thumb found my clit. A slow, deliberate circle that had my back arching off the bed. A sharp, sweet bolt of sensation shot straight through me.
“Sensitive,” he noted, his grin widening.
He did it again, a little faster, his eyes locked on my face, watching every flinch, every gasp. “You want this?”
I could only nod, my mouth dry.
This was happening.
We had crossed the line last night, sure, and when he kissed me all I wanted was this—but now he was in my bedroom, his thumb on my clit, looking at me like I was his favorite meal.
“You want this?” he asked again, thumb still making me dizzy.
“You know I do.”
“I know what your body says. I want your mouth to catch up.”
“Yes.”
He ducked his head, and his mouth was on me, hot and wet and perfect.
Not slow and exploratory, but fast and confident, like he already knew exactly what I liked.
His tongue was a flat, firm stroke right through my center, then a flickering, insistent pressure on my clit.
A moan tore out of me, my head falling back.
“That’s it,” his voice vibrated against me, the words muffled but clear.
“Cade…”
“Don’t make it pretty for me. I want the real sounds.”
“Bossy.”
“Still not an insult.”
He ate me with the same determination as he played hockey, and he was fucking amazing at both.
His arms slid under my thighs, his hands gripping my hips, holding me open, holding me right where he wanted me.
The pleasure built fast, too fast, a coil tightening low in my belly.
I was panting, my fingers twisting in my own sheets.
“Cade… oh…”
He hummed against me, the vibration wringing another broken sound from my throat. “Sounds even prettier in person.”
I pushed myself up higher, onto my hands, needing to see. His dark head was between my legs, his shoulders flexing as he worked. The sight alone was almost enough to push me over.
This was something I had never had. Luke never made me feel this or want this as bad as I did with Cade right here.
Instinct took over. I let go of the sheets and sank my fingers into his hair, not pushing, just holding as I sat up so I could look down and watch. The sight of his enormous body between my legs was a satisfaction all its own.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice ragged. “Right there, please, right there.”
He groaned his approval, his grip on my hips tightening. “I got you, Pip.”
He lifted me, just an inch, adjusting the angle, and then his tongue dove deeper, faster. I was half-sitting now, holding his head to me, my thighs trembling around his ears. I started to move, small, desperate thrusts of my hips, meeting the relentless rhythm of his tongue.
He helped me, his arms taking more of my weight, supporting me in that suspended, vulnerable position as I fucked myself against his face.
“Fuck yeah, Pip. Fuck my face.”
The dirty, wet sounds filled the room, mixed with my gasps and his low, encouraging grunts.
“Cade!”
It was a scream, torn from somewhere deep, as the coil snapped.
Pleasure detonated, white-hot and blinding, rushing through every nerve ending.
I convulsed, my back bowing, my hold on his hair turning desperate as waves of it crashed over me, again and again, pulled from me by his unwavering, smart-ass mouth.
Only when the last tremor subsided, leaving me boneless and shaking, did he slow down.
A few soft, lingering licks made me whimper.
Slowly, he lowered my hips back to the mattress.
He lifted his head, his chin glistening, his eyes blown with desire.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, that same infuriating, beautiful grin back in place.
“So,” he said, his voice hoarse. “That’s benefit number one.”
He leaned over me, bracing his hands on the mattress by my shoulders, his face inches from mine.
He looked at me and laughed as he stood up, dragging both hands through his hair like he was resetting himself by force. The loss of his body between my legs was so immediate and offensive that I nearly complained out loud.