Chapter 16 A Tipping Point
A TIPPING POINT
REN
When Cassidy first appeared, she was partially covered by shadows. She hadn’t caught sight of me yet; her and Issa entirely focused on Declan who was watching his wife with the same look a wolf gives its next meal.
For a moment, I thought she was going to run.
For a moment, I wondered if I’d gone too far in my planning.
But after Declan mentioned writing my own vows just in case it mattered someday, I got to thinking.
Maybe, just maybe, it would be best to do the entire affair just in case it mattered someday.
Now, this being Vegas, it’s not like setting this up required a huge amount of effort. Sure, I had to make some calls and pony up some cash, but the brunt of the last-minute legwork fell on the company running the show.
Just when I was bracing to go after her, she started moving forward again, her troubled expression now gone.
She tried to feign annoyance with me and failed.
And I truly enjoyed her off the cuff vows, happy to have something amusing to bounce off of given I put her on the spot while be completely unprepared.
Then there was our kiss. I had every intention of leaving it a quick, clinical touch of lips, but once her subtle scent washed over me, I couldn’t help myself. She gave me the sexiest little whimper, and I was done with pretenses and propriety and I dove right in.
Of course, now, here I am, in the back of a limo with a raging hard on.
Cassidy is seated across from me, facing the driver. So far, she has done everything she can to avoid looking at me, something I find as amusing as I do annoying.
Wanting her attention on me, I nudge her foot with mine and ask, “You following all the rules, princess?”
Her lips twist, her eyes narrow, but she nods. I wait a moment to see if she’s going to say anything and when she doesn’t, I retort, “Are you going to prove it?”
She sighs heavily, then looks pointedly to my right where the driver is seated on the other side of the partition, which is still down. Twisting around I ask the driver, “Is this barrier soundproof?”
The man gives me an amused glance then shakes his head. “No, but I can turn the radio way up.”
“Yes. Please do.”
The partition slides up just as music begins to play loudly, and I turn my attention back to Cassidy whose expression has turned amused. “Go on then. Let me see.”
Cassidy stares at me for a moment then uncrosses her legs, her hands moving to bunch her skirt up as her knees part a few inches, giving me the narrowest of glimpses. She raises her brows, cocking her head rather haughtily, so I say, “Wider.”
She licks her lips, nostrils flare. “Make me.”
My breath stops. My heart stutters. “Excuse me?”
Her lips curve up, her chin lifts. “You heard me.”
“I don’t think I did,” I respond, my voice hoarse. “Maybe you should repeat it.”
She leans back. “Make.” Her hips slide forward, her knees now touching, completely blocking my view. “Me.”
Not waiting for further challenge, I’m off my seat and across the narrow aisle in a heartbeat.
Grabbing behind her knees, I yank her forward, using the moment of surprise to spread her legs wide.
Her hands move to either side of her, bracing herself where her ass is now hanging almost entirely off the seat.
Her skirt pools over her waist, leaving her bare pussy open for my greedy gaze. Pushing her knees back, her ass lifts, my head lowers, my tongue licking a line from her asshole to her clit. A low moan falls from her lips, a quick glance upward revealing her half-closed eyes watching me intently.
Gently biting along her pussy lips, I intentionally avoid her clit, enjoying the heightened frustration in response, her hips rotating in my hold. “Patience, princess,” I respond, my lips hovering over her glistening skin, “Punishment first.”
She sobs, attempts to close her legs around my head. Twisting, I manage to thwart her attempt with my shoulders, pushing her back and to the side so she has less room to maneuver.
I tease her relentlessly, my lips and tongue and teeth ravishing her before sliding one finger into her dripping cunt. Her inner muscles clench, so I pull back then insert two, pull back again, this time pushing in with three, stretching her.
She gasps a curse, her hands move so she’s gripping my head, her fingers yanking my hair. Bracing myself, I ignore the wince of pain, not allowing her to force me where she wants me. “Tell me,” I drawl, impressed I’m able to speak at all for the desire burgeoning inside me. “Beg me.”
Her eyes narrow, her hands tighten at the back of my head, her lips curl even as she pants with need. I wait, daring her to beg at the same time I dare her to drag this out even longer. Then she whispers, “Please,” a long, drawn-out whine, “Please.”
“Please what?”
I’m pushing my luck now, but I can’t help myself. I want her to submit to me, but not more than I want her to constantly challenge me. I want her to give me everything while also taking my very soul in exchange.
Because I fear that’s exactly what she’s going to do.
“Ren?” her sharp voice startles me. “Are you okay?”
I blink, realizing my moment of revelation had me zoned out of the moment. Kneeling between her spread legs, three fingers deep in her pussy, having a sentimental inner monologue with myself.
For fuck’s sake.
Our gazes lock. I’m not sure what she sees in mine, but her expression softens slightly. Unsure what to say, I don’t bother saying anything, instead opting to lower my head and get back to business.
Suddenly, her hands release my hair, and she’s shoving me backward. “What are you doing?”
“Taking what I want,” she breathes, shoving more forcefully. My back comes in contact with the seat, and I quickly adjust my legs, so I’m kneeling not quite so awkwardly in the tight space, thankful for my extensive mobility from decades of playing hockey.
She makes quick work of my belt; her fingers unbuttoning and unzipping my trousers, yanking at my underwear until she’s squeezing my hard dick. My breath catches in my throat, my hips flexing in response to her tight hold.
Then she’s bending down, her hot breath painting the tip of my dick right before her tongue licks a line along my shaft. She takes me deep, sucking hard and then easing off as she pulls back, leaving a trail of saliva in her wake.
Her free hand moves to the seat, bracing herself as she climbs on top of me. Gripping her waist, I steady her, watching her face as she rubs the tip of my cock against her wet hole, then sinks down, slowly.
Ignoring the burn in my thighs, I push my hips upward, my grip on her pulling her downward until her hot pussy is full of my cock. She rotates her hips, grinding and rocking, her head tipped back slightly, eyes closed in concentration.
Her lips part, a low moan escaping as her tongue wets them, sending a zap of electricity from my balls to my cock. She rocks faster, grinds methodically, finding a rhythm that has her panting, but soon, her brow furrows. Groaning, she shakes her head, a frustrated whimper escaping.
“Holy fuck,” I groan, pumping into her. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come for me.”
She wedges her hand between us, the rhythmic press of her fingers rubbing her clit pushing me closer to the edge. She grunts with effort, obviously close, needy and desperate for release.
“You want my come, don’t you,” I grit out, slowing my pace, ensuring the rut of my cock hits her just right with each inward push.
She nods, her face twisted with want. Her free hand moves up my chest, to my shoulder, then slides up the back of my neck to twist in my hair. She pulls sharply and my head tips back, my lips parting just as she presses her mouth against mine, her tongue seeking mine urgently.
Her kiss is fervent, her hand in my hair keeping me in place. But her eyes are squeezed shut, her brow creased, the hand she has wedged between us working her clit with vigor.
Wanting her eyes on me, I mutter, “Look at me,” my hands tightening on her hips when she doesn’t immediately comply, and I add, “Fucking look at me, Cass.”
Her eyes open, an endless pool of desire glowing back at me. My chest constricts, a zap of euphoria rushing over me as she moans, “Please. Please. Please.”
My body jerks in response, my hips lifting sharply, my hands holding her tightly against me. “Take it. Take it. Take it,” I whisper against her lips, pleasure erupting and spilling over. “There you go. It’s all yours.”
She sobs, her hips jerking violently as I release inside her, her sharp curse of frustration confirming what I already know.
She didn’t come.
Wrapping an arm around her hips, I surge forward, scooping her over and then under me so I can settle between her spread legs. She moans loudly, and I push in, grind against her, wanting every ounce of my seed as deep inside her as possible.
I ease out of her slowly, allowing myself a brief glimpse of my come oozing inside her before shoving three fingers in—deep. Her back bows slightly, her feet planted on the floor of the limo, raising her hips into my touch.
Stooping over, I latch onto her clit, my lips and tongue working her urgently, my cock hardening again from the sloppy sound of my fingers plunging and retreating in her come-drenched pussy.
She writhes beneath me, her hands moving to my head, her fingers yanking on my hair as she rubs her swollen clit against my mouth. I lick and suck and nip, giving her full leeway to move me wherever she needs me, her noises of pleasure increasing in volume as she grinds against my mouth.
My fingers twist inside her, shoved in deep, and then I remove them slightly only to push back in sharply, the base of my fingers pushing upward as I feel and hear the cresting pleasure break. She comes hard around my fingers, proof of her orgasm coating my hand, spraying the car door.
I growl against her, doubling down on her clit as I work her quivering cunt, forcing another orgasm out of her, wishing I could drink her keening moan from her lips the way I’m drinking her release from her throbbing pussy.
I manage to get a third orgasm out of her before her hands in my hair start yanking me away, her legs squeezing, her pants now begging for mercy instead of more.
If we were anywhere else, I’d force a few more out of her. Make her keep coming until she was too exhausted to think of anything other than me. Force her to orgasm until she safe worded out or passed out.
Smiling at the thought, I allow her to push me away. I kneel over her, not even caring that I’m grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the sight of her looking like a hot mess before me.
I reach toward her, wanting to shove my come back into her, but she slaps me away, drawing my attention back to her face. She’s scowling, but I see the amused glint in her eyes, note that she’s actively trying not to smile as she tsks, “You stop that.”
I take a few moments to catch my breath, rinse my hands in the small sink, then grab the towel off the wet bar. Wetting one side slightly, I wipe my mouth, not wanting to remove the scent of her on my skin, but knowing that having it dry-on may not be the best look.
She continues to watch me, silently, her legs now spread haphazardly.
Turning back to her, I offer up the towel but then don’t hand it to her when she reaches for it.
She sighs then nods slightly, so I use the damp part of the towel to wipe at her inner thighs, along her pubic bone where I pause.
She quirks a brow at me, but says nothing, so I move like I’m done cleaning her up, laughing as she glares at me.
I feel absolutely foolish for it, but I can’t help but tease her, wanting her to trust me to take care of her, no matter what it is she needs.
I drag the damp down between her legs, slightly annoyed to be wasting what I left for her but also knowing she won’t be happy if she ruins her dress.
It’s not like there won’t be plenty more of my come in her everyday life.
I finish cleaning her up, then she allows me to assist her to the forward-facing seat. I clean myself up a bit more, then toss the towel in the bin and adjust my own clothing before seating myself beside her.
“This is so embarrassing,” she mutters, her eyes now focused on the wet door. She blinks a few times, then turns panicked eyes to me. “There must be more towels around here somewhere.”
“I’m sure he has seen much worse,” I respond with a grin, my hand moving to her bare knee and squeezing.
She tries to slap my hand away, shifting as if she’s going to move away from me, but I tighten my grip, keeping her in place.
I wait for her gaze to focus back on me and then say, “I’ll take care of it. It’s okay.”
The breath she takes is a bit shaky and I frown, not quite sure what her panic is all about, but willing to do whatever I can to ease her worry. With a final squeeze of her knee, I release her, then move to the wet bar and pull a towel from beneath the sink.
I make quick work of the proof of her rampant desire for me, getting an odd sense of satisfaction every time I find a new spot to clean up. After a final perusal of the area, I toss the soiled towel into the bin with the rest and then once again seat myself next to her.
“Thank you.” Her words are quiet, her expression somewhat guarded, but there’s a distinct warmth in her gaze that has me wondering if she truly feels I’d go out of my way to humiliate her.
I want to ask her, but I don’t bother because I already know the response I’ll get from her.
Red.
“Don’t mention it,” I reply, my tone even, my hand moving back to her knee where I stroke lightly with my thumb.
She watches me for a few moments, then takes a hiccupping inhalation that appears to take her by surprise.
She relaxes slowly, but eventually she once again resumes her position at my side, leaning into me slightly.
She turns to look out the window, frowning as she just now notices we’re not headed back toward the Strip. “Where are we going?”
Laughing, I give her my most winning smile. “We’re going home. I got practice tomorrow.”