Chapter 9 Desperate Times
DESPERATE TIMES
CASSIDY
There’s no restroom when we land.
We went from the plane directly to the back of a limo, and to say I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable in my squishy underpants would be an understatement.
Ren, being the gentlemanly bastard that he is, snagged the towel I was sitting on and placed it on the seat for me to sit on. It was only the smug look on his face that stopped me from thanking him.
The drive to the hotel isn’t overly long, but between Ren sitting ridiculously close to me and the abrupt way in which he denied my orgasm, my discomfort goes well beyond the superficial.
I’m fucking horny.
I’m so turned on that if I were alone in the back of this limo, I would be hard-pressed not to put up the privacy screen and fuck myself silly. Alas, here I am, Ren to my left and Declan seated directly across from me, his knowing smirk keeping the blush in my cheeks.
By the time we get to the hotel, I’m starting to sweat. Ren helps me out of the limo, keeping hold of my hand as he leads me into the hotel lobby where a man in a suit greets us. There’s no pause for niceties; the man walks to a group of elevators, one with the door open.
Declan waves us ahead and we enter the elevator, turning to face the closing doors. I attempt to shake my hand free, but Ren squeezes tighter,
Glancing around the opulent expanse I ask, “Are we all staying here?”
Ren nod. “Yes. Unless you’re not okay with it.”
“Can I get my own room?”
“Not a chance,” he retorts, “But you can choose our room.”
Laughing, I head toward the hallway, and what I assume are the bedrooms. Ren follows along behind me, keeping a bit of distance between us as I check out the various bedrooms. Doubling back down the hallway, I stop at the first bedroom, waiting for Ren to enter before saying, “This is perfect.”
“I know what you’re doing here, but it ain’t gonna work.”
I turn my innocent expression to him. “Whatever do you mean?”
“All you’re gonna get from the two beds is me fucking you on both of them.”
My insides clench again, and I barely manage to stifle the grunt of white-hot arousal that attempts to sneak out of my mouth. He’s watching me closely, so I know I need to get him out right now before he catches on to my problem.
I fake cough then shoo him with my free hand. “Well, you can go while I freshen up.”
“I’ll wait,” he answers shortly. “We may as well go scope out a good spot before Declan’s entourage show up and make this a big spectacle.”
Groaning, I look up at the ceiling, muttering under my breath. “For the love of fuck.”
“What?”
Slowly, I lower my eyes to meet his, doing my best to keep my wits about me even though I want to throttle him. His expression is confused and his eyebrows raise slightly as he waits for me to respond.
Clenching my jaw, I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing I could come up with some kind of flippant remark but coming up blank. His eyes slowly lower, down the line of my throat, along my chest and lower, and it feels as if my entire body heats even further just from the intensity of his gaze.
Unable to control myself, a shudder rolls over my body, then a whimpering gasp escapes. His eyes immediately jump back to mine, and his now knowing expression has me torn between telling him to fuck off and begging him to fuck me.
I’m saved from having to respond when the corner of his mouth lifts slightly and he whispers, “It goes both way, you know.”
“What does?”
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his gaze warm with amusement. “The free use clause.”
My eyes widen even as I attempt to school my features into blasé disinterest. I have no idea why it never occurred to me that this was a two-way street, but now that I do know, I have no idea what to do with it.
Because giving in to his challenges is one thing. Explicitly seeking out carnal rules with him is another.
My insides clench at the thought of using him for my own pleasure. Given how slippery I am, it wouldn’t take much for him to slide right in an—
For the love of fuck, I have to get it together.
He must take my silence as confusion because he leans toward me slightly, those full lips curving up as he drawls, “There’s no harm in admitting you’re hot for me, princess.”
Instantly annoyed, I cock my head at him and respond, “Maybe I’m just hot, and you’ll do because you’re my closest option.”
“You mean the only option per your own stipulation,” he retorts with a glare, and a humorless laugh falls from my lips.
I step back a couple steps until I can lean back against the wall, hoping this new position eases the ache between my legs.
He follows me, but stops a few feet from me, his expression annoyed yet still guarded.
“Maybe,” I respond, my voice low, my gaze pointed, intent on setting him off. “I’d just as soon go down the strip and pick up a rea—.”
The few feet between us is suddenly gone, his face directly in front of mine as he grits out, “Finish that fucking sentence,” his chest brushes against my breasts, his thigh sliding between mine as he adds, “I dare you.”
I want to finish the sentence. I want to piss him off.
I open my mouth to do just that, but he doesn’t allow me to get a word out, immediately shoving three fingers between my open lips, pushing my head back until my skull is pressed against the wall.
My hands come up and grip his wrist, but it’s more for balance than defense, and my eyes water as he presses his fingertips into my tongue.
Leaning back farther against the wall, my legs spread as his fingers stroke up my inner thigh, and I’m relieved my noises of encouragement are muffled by his fingers in my mouth.
He stops his trek upward just before his fingers brush against my clit, my moan of frustration punctuated by the forward movement of my pelvis. He leans in, his nose tickling my cheek, his breath warm against my heated skin. “Is this what you want, princess?”
My eyes close, and I nod, sucking his fingers into my mouth, hoping he’ll get the hint and shove his fingers where I need them.
His finger brushes along my soaked underwear, teasing briefly before nudging the crotch aside.
Then he’s sliding along my bare flesh, dripping with his earlier release and my own intense need to be drilled into next week.
Ren moves his hand away and I shake my head, attempting to dislodge his fingers in my mouth so I can beg, plead, demand he give me what I want.
He shoves his hand in more firmly, preventing me from moving away, but then his free hand is sliding into my underwear from the top, tickling along my stomach, and over my pubic bone.
Twisting his hand, he cups my pussy, his middle finger sliding along my slick flesh until his fingertip is pressed into my throbbing hole. Clenching around him, I push my hips forward, trying to force his finger deeper, but it doesn’t work, and my whimper comes out pained and desperate.
“Take ‘em off,” Ren whispers, his words as rough as his fingers still pressed between my lips.
My eyes tear, overflow; my hands frantically shoving at the cotton fabric hugging my hips.
He shifts back just enough for me to push them down, then steps into me fully as I kick free from the offending clothing. “Spread your legs.”
No sooner are my legs spread wide than he’s speared two fingers inside me. I moan loudly around his fingers in my mouth, my pelvis rocking frantically, demanding he stop playing with me and give me what I’ve earned.
He doesn’t bother with gentle; his fingers hard and deep, hammering me relentlessly.
At first it’s overwhelming, his fingers pulsing and sliding in my mouth in time with his fingers in my cunt.
It’s almost too much, but soon, pleasure ricochets inside me, and I choke on his fingers and my own cursing moans.
“Is this what you want?” His question is low, his gaze intent on my face. My eyes close, but his hand in my mouth tightens, drawing my attention back to him. Then he pulls downward, forcing my chin to my neck. “Watch what I’m doing to you. Watch how I fuck you.”
He sets a punishing rhythm, his slick fingers disappearing inside me rapidly, the heel of his palm slapping my clit with every inward push.
My knees give out, and I begin to slide down the wall, complete euphoria washing over me.
His fingers fall from mouth, he straightens and twists around, his free arm moving around my shoulders, so my back is sliding down his front, but he doesn’t let me reach the floor.
Instead, he goes down on one knee, braces my back against the top of his thigh, my feet planted on the floor so I’m almost in a bridge pose.
“Oh yeah, princess, I’m not done with you yet.
You’re gonna keep coming until I tell you to stop. ”
“Fuck, Ren, holy shit,” I gasp, my back bowing as he pushes me toward the edge, but this time my orgasm is deeper, all-consuming. His fingers shove into me again, and my torso is suddenly spattered with the proof of how wet I am.
“You’re a fucking squirter, too,” he grunts, breathless yet obviously amused. “This is gonna be fun.”
Mildly embarrassed I say nothing; what the fuck can I even say with the proof of what he’s saying dripping onto the floor beneath us.
He doesn’t wait for a response, just begins to finger fuck me into oblivion all over again.
Shockingly, it doesn’t take long before I’m spiraling again, but this time, when I come, I watch the jet of liquid erupt, punctuated by Ren’s deep chuckle of appreciation.
He doesn’t stop this time, doesn’t bother trying to give me a moment to recover, and I recoil a bit, my legs squeezing his hand as I grab his wrist in both my hands and pull. “No, please. I can’t.”