Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DRAKE
I watch her on the cameras for an hour before entering her room. The window locks are connected to the alarm system with an override that unlocks everything in case of fire. With that software already doing the hard work, a simple setting change means I can disarm them at the press of a button.
Cadence tried so hard to keep me out, and it was all for nothing.
Even knowing how deep under she was last time; I wince while crawling in the window, navigating past the curtains.
She lies on her side, knees curled to her chest, arms resting limp on top of them. I pull back her hair where it’s fallen to obscure her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, giving a soft snort when it immediately slips free to cover her face again.
A result as contrary as the girl herself.
She’s thrown the covers half off already. It only takes a few twitches to remove them entirely, the night so warm there’s no obvious reaction. I’m careful, rolling her onto her back, moving her hands to lie at her sides, straightening her legs, my fingers teasing the hem of her tiny shorts.
I run my forefinger across her lip, remembering the soft, wet drag of her mouth as my thumb pumped inside her and before, when her eyes grew wide staring at my cock. The curiosity turning to need until my body ached for her touch.
Then the defiant snap of her teeth. Refusing to give in to what we both wanted.
I press harder, forcing my fingertip inside the seam of her lips, finding her teeth already parted.
Her tongue gently pushes against the intrusion, and I slide along its textured surface. Surging and withdrawing, the wet muscle flattening against me, curling around me. I thrust deeper, knuckles pressing her teeth wider, thrilling to the vibration of her gagging when I push towards her throat.
My finger is soon sloppy with spit, and I add another, rhythmically thrusting, feeling as her tongue anticipates the strokes, pushing and sucking and rippling around me as she swallows.
Another finger, another, then I shape my hand like a dart and add my thumb.
In. Out. In. Out. Drool trickles from her mouth, wetting her cheeks. Saliva coats my fingers. I gently climb onto the bed next to her, perched on one elbow to better view the show.
“You look so pretty with your mouth full.”
The next thrust triggers her gag reflex and her chest lifts off the bed. I withdraw, wiping the drool from her cheeks.
Jealousy ripples through me at the thought of what Hudson might already have coaxed her into doing. The boys at Ashcroft Crest are brainless dicks. Not a single one is worth wasting her virginity on.
I unbutton her shirt, appreciating the fading lettering on her sternum. My hand trembles as I palm her breast. The same tits that have infiltrated my thoughts for the past five years, driving me crazy even during the worst of my hatred.
The feel of them exceeds the benchmarks of my dreams.
They are absolute perfection.
When I suck the hard bud of her nipple into my mouth, I close my eyes, exulting in the sensation. For long minutes, I can’t get enough of them, licking every inch of skin, sucking, squeezing, moulding them inside the exact fitted cup of my palm. Growing painfully hard from my indulgence.
I roll my tongue across her nipple, exulting as her back arches. A low moan drifts from her throat and her eyes open.
Dazed with sleep, she stares at me for the length of three heartbeats, then her lids slowly close.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur, a fresh shot of adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream at the thought she feels everything I do to her. “Stay asleep and let me take care of you.”
Encouraged, my fingers go on a new adventure, sliding under the waistband of her sleep shorts, rubbing themselves across a new set of lips, finding them just as wet—easy to slip inside.
I lower my head to her shoulder, eyes closed as my fingers explore, each touch sending reverberations through my body, making my nipples sting as they pull tight, my cock throbbing so hard my balls ache.
“Do you like that?” I ask, raising my head to scan her face for a reaction. But I don’t need to see the rapid eye movement or listen to her shallow breaths to know—the proof soaks my hand. “You feel so good.”
Her thighs clench, hips shifting on the mattress. My eyes close again, savouring the reports from my other senses. I tease her entrance, gently slipping my finger inside, stopping as her tight flesh squeezes around me.
The promise of that snug fit whites out half my mind and I’ve only inserted up to my first knuckle.
I drag my finger away, circling her entrance again, finding a rhythm, teasing with another small probe, mapping out her contours in my mind until her muscles bunch tighter, legs drawing up as they release in a series of flutters.
When the last echo has died away, I lift my finger, sucking until the taste of her floods my mouth.
Arousal overwhelms me, filling every hollow in my body until I’m stuffed to bursting with desire. I hug her torso against me but it’s not enough and I move, straddling her, undoing my fly as my erection strains at the fabric.
My fingers grip her chin to position her ready for my kiss, the touch light, fleeting on the first occasion. Harder the second.
I suck her lower lip into my mouth, rhythmically pulling at the sensitive flesh until it swells, and I release it with a pop. Soothing the flesh with my thumb. I sit back and marvel as it plumps out, a deeper pink than before.
As I sit upright, I brush her cheek with the back of my knuckles, closing my eyes to intensify the sensation, the blood heating in my veins, pulsing into my cock, begging for more.
Desire sets my entire body alight, skin sensitivity skyrocketing until each point of contact burns, charring my skin, bubbling the marrow in my bones.
I let myself drift, the parameters of control loosening as I fall upon her, my mouth tasting, licking, sucking, teeth grazing then biting, careful not to leave a mark, though I want to. I ache to leave my grubby handprints all over her, signposting her as off-limits.
Each touch fills me and empties me out, thirsting for more, colours exploding behind my shut eyelids, the throbbing in my cock almost too much to bear.
I suck at the nubs of her clavicle, pulling back to spit into the dip of her throat, licking it off her skin, sucking it back into my mouth along with the sweet subtle taste of her skin.
A huge burst of contentment explodes in my chest, and I’m dizzy by the time I stop. Panting as I straddle her unresisting body, brain crackling with sparks as I think of watching this, replaying the scene on my phone and in my mind, setting it deep into my memory until she’s a part of me as much as if she wormed into my cells.
The ache in my balls, the throb in my dick grows until I rub the heel of my palm against myself. Relieving and intensifying my need.
The panties I stole from her the first night are in my pocket and I wrap them around my shaft, hand gripping hard on top of the slinky fabric. With each hard tug, the satin slides against my skin, altering the friction until it feels like someone else touching me.
My eyelids grow heavy, throat pulling tighter as my stroke lengthens, increasing in speed as I get closer.
At the last moment, I adjust the material, covering the head of my cock as spurts of cum spill into the waiting fabric, staining them darker with my seed, continuing to pump until I’ve collected every drop, then rocking back on my heels, limbs heavy with satisfaction.
And I can’t resist scooping my finger through and rubbing it across her lips, going back for more to slather across her tongue when her mouth falls open, watching as she licks her lips, swallowing part of me deep inside.
“You enjoy it, Cadence? Do I taste as good to you as you taste to me?”
Her eyelashes flutter but there’s no other sign she hears me. I rub my thumb across her lip, rubbing part of me into her soft skin.
“Next time, you can swallow my cum straight from my cock. Would you like that? Or you can spread those gorgeous legs, and I’ll shoot it deep inside your sweet little virgin cunt.”
Another dull throb hits my balls, only my recent release keeping the temptation at bay as I climb off the bed and adjust my clothing, tossing the stained panties into her hamper. After a short internal battle, I fasten her undone buttons, briefly stroking her cheek with my knuckles, running my hand over her arm.
Then I leave her room the same way I entered, re-engaging the window locks when I’m back in my room. I wipe all trace of what happened tonight from the security footage and move it to a secret folder for my eyes only.
As I lay back on the bed, every frame of this evening runs again through my mind, letting me relive every pleasure.
The stealthy assignation satisfied me tonight, but I want more.
More of her asleep. More of her awake.
It will be a different pleasure, watching her consciously fight her desire, pretending her physical reactions don’t exist because she can’t reconcile them with logic any more than I can.
A version of the same game I played earlier tonight but on steroids. Each calculated touch wearing down her resistance until her body clamours for what she refuses to let it have, ultimately capitulating.
I would have far easier access to influence her in the right direction if I hadn’t scared her from my car and that thought leads to another.
Our neighbour is still a problem.
I had hoped he would withdraw once Gretchen made it known Cadence was persona non grata. It’s not like Hudson’s popular; most times, he only gets invited as the mate of a mate, snuffling on the ground for the crumbs of her friendship.
Cadence has proved to be more important to him than I thought.
The sooner I free her from his clutches, the better.
CADENCE
I wake before my alarm the next morning, feeling unbelievably good. The grogginess that settles over me when I take the pills is absent, and there’s a tingling sensation in my lower stomach, the aftereffects of a sexy dream.
When I roll onto my back, the sensations cascade over me in a wash of wellbeing.
The image of Drake above me, the weight of him pressing against me, is so distinct it feels real. Like it was his hands and mouth on me instead of a random set of neurons firing, hallucinating him into my dreams.
The compelling memories set a pulse throbbing between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together and it instantly grows worse. With a tick of irritation, I press the heel of my hand against the offending spot, sending a dizzying wave of sensation spiralling across my skin.
Goddammit.
I dislike touching myself. The slow buildup is never worth the quick spasms of release; always leaving me disappointed, sweaty, and ashamed.
But as my thighs clench, seemingly of their own accord, I lick my finger, slipping it inside my folds, unleashing a burst of sensation outpacing previous attempts as I fall into a rhythmic stroke.
My nipples were already tight and harden further as my free hand explores, pulling at the peaks, then, when it barely registers, pinching them.
An experiment that sends a jolt of electric arousal straight to my pussy, knees drawing up at the overload, then slowly straightening until the next time I pinch. And the next.
Desire has never made my body heavy like it is right now, limbs slow, reluctant to move.
Another few minutes and my body melts into the mattress, skin blossoming with warmth.
I let go of everything except the face and body that have entranced me for years. Pushing aside his personality as I undress him—a strip show now complete with full-frontal nudity thanks to yesterday’s stunt—the visual of his stiff cock adding an extra dimension to the daydream.
I imagine it pushing into me, tearing through any barrier, and instead of my usual horror, heat pulses inside me until there’s an empty ache, begging to be filled.
My fingers are a paltry substitute, their tentative exploration unsatisfying until I turn their attention to my pulsing clit, letting the gorgeous ripple of Drake’s shoulders fill my mind’s eye, wetter than my paperback collection ever got me.
His hand strokes my head, fingers threading into my hair, combing until the sultry ache of being manhandled turns to heat.
My tongue flattens against the floor of my mouth, saliva pooling, remembering the thickness of his cock, imagining the slippery satin of it gliding inside me as he thrusts his hips, slowly pumping deeper.
My throat spasms, a ghost of reflex; swallowing while the stretch of my fingers grows more insistent, painting the scene in such precise detail it could be happening.
Pressure builds in my core, taking me to the edge of previous endeavours and effortlessly surging past those markers.
My breaths shorten until I’m panting; my skin flushes, burning with the growing spate of electric tingles while my hips pump, bearing down hard on the mattress, an ache to fill the emptiness making me clench harder, seeking additional friction and not caring where it comes from.
I finger around my entrance and my body draws it inside, demanding attention, the snug fit igniting a series of ecstatic surges, propelling me higher and higher and higher until my thighs clench around my hand, crushing it, driving it back against my needy clit until a wave of pleasure washes over me followed by another, overloading my senses until my head swims, lost.
When I come back to myself, I’m on my back, legs splayed, breaths heaving in and out of my chest.
The ring of my alarm cuts off any attempt at introspection as I roll my pleasure-heavy limbs out of bed and drag myself into the shower.