Chapter 24 #2
It was a rush, knowing what I did to him without much effort. Better hurry then, before the fun’s over. Caden, I added.
He ground his hips against mine, and we both moaned at the contact. God, you are so lucky, he began. That I had the foresight to bring one of these. Out of the waistband of his boxers, he pulled a condom.
Despite taking birth control, that shouldn’t have been the last thing on my mind. But I could barely think at all, never mind be asked to stay reasonable.
My hero, I muttered, and kissed his neck, shoulder, chest— anything I could reach while he took his shirt and briefs off, then carelessly threw them in the sand.
I looked up at him, sitting on his knees. A cloud passed in front of the moon, and I could barely make him out; the way he pumped his cock once, twice, then threw his head back before he managed to concentrate on the task at hand again.
I think, honestly, I could’ve just watched him.
I could’ve just watched a barely-there silhouette of Caden jerk off on a lonely beach in the middle of the night, and it would’ve done it for me—simply because it was him.
But he ripped the package open, slid the condom on, and when our eyes connected again, anticipation threatened to tie a knot around my throat. My breath hitched.
Am I still reading your mind? he asked, attention on me again.
I’d leaned back against my elbows, watching as he crawled over me.
All I could do was nod. Do you still want me?
Right here? A finger teased where I needed him most and he groaned at first contact, the same way I writhed against his touch with a whine.
Fuck— he cursed. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?
Talk to me, baby, he added when I, again, could only nod, lips parted in a soundless moan.
Please, I managed to squeeze out, and one could hardly classify it as talking, to be honest. I moaned, maybe. I groaned and pleaded, maybe. But I wasn’t talking to him. This wasn’t a fair conversation, because suddenly I could feel his tip against me. Please. Please, I repeated.
He groaned a laugh against my lips, aligned with his again. Yeah? he asked, pushed into me, barely an inch. When my hips arched against him, he pulled back.
Where was he getting this self-control from?
Caden tutted playfully, the smile on his lips dark and devious. So impatient, he teased, kissed me, and pushed another inch forward—still not enough. At all. My whine said as much. We’ve been working toward this for a month, Val. Shouldn’t we enjoy it?
Just that it wasn’t enjoyable at all. That the seams of my anticipation were about to burst, that my need to feel him fill me completely was so strong, my fingertips tingled and my head was buzzing.
Another inch. Torturous and slow. This one seemed to affect him as much as it did me, and a deep, guttural sound escaped his throat. You felt so good that first night a few months ago, he said, voice hushed, strained. But this—
I knew exactly why he’d paused, because I felt it, too. This was different. This was so much better. That night felt incomparable to what was happening now. To the way he groaned, and moaned, and said my name when he pushed a little deeper once more. Valentina, you’re fucking spectacular.
He hadn’t even fucked me yet—he wasn’t even fully inside of me, and I thought the way he said my name might still burn me wholeheartedly and completely to the ground.
I pulsed around him, and for a second, with the way he moaned right into my ear, I thought I might actually come. I didn’t know how, but I held back.
Caden must’ve been struggling, too, because he was beginning to get impatient—as restless and desperate as I had been all along. He added another inch barely ten seconds after the last. His lids threatened to flutter shut, and his lips formed a soundless O.
Underneath him, my entire body was humming his name. It wouldn’t surprise me if I were trembling.
A word of warning, he said, and his voice was so deep, so rough, it traveled right to my core, pulsing.
He groaned. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I’m not going to last a minute fucking you the way I plan to.
Again, it seemed like a fact. Like he knew what he was capable of, and what capabilities I was, apparently, robbing him of.
I promise, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you come as often as you’d like. I just can’t—
I shook my head. I’m right there with you, I breathed.
I couldn’t get my voice to be above a whisper.
But, I, too, was on the verge of an orgasm before we’d even really started.
I could feel it, buzzing in the background, waiting to be unleashed by the right words, a touch, or six rough snaps of his hips against mine—any of those would do, I think. That’s how close I was.
His eyes shot wide in surprise. You—?
I’m close, Caden. And I want us to finish this together.
His patience was hurled into the dark sea at our feet. His restrained snapped. His moan was unapologetic, and right by my ear. When he added that last inch, filled me completely and to the brink, I lost all sense—of anything.
Of up and down, right and wrong, left and right. Just bliss, thrumming across the surface of my skin, catapulting me into an alternate reality where all it took was four strokes, and a canon of nicknames whispered against my lips, parted in a loud moan, before we came in sync at the fifth.
Where he made me come with his mouth and fingers and filthy words three more times, breaking our record, before we fell asleep right there, on the beach, my head nestled in the crook of his neck.
I woke at dawn. With the sound of waves rolling against the beach, the cackle of seagulls, and the morning fog settling over the land around me. Us. Caden slept peacefully beside me. Features relaxed, breaths even and the accidental hickey I must’ve left last night already fading.
I tried not to panic at the prospect of it—at the fact it was proof, evidence, that we’d gone all the way. That I had slept with him, and, unfortunately, it had been as life-altering as our one-night stand had been. Just by a lot more.
The only thing keeping me from a full-on panic attack— because kissing, and even the occasional orgasm, was one thing, but sleeping with him, enjoying it, and not even really regretting it, was another altogether—was the slowly rising sun on the horizon, and the way Caden’s chest rose and fell evenly beside me.
I watched as the sun—initially nothing but a red circle— peeked out across the water, painting the sky a light orange and tinting the few clouds above us the same color.
It rose, and its red turned to orange to yellow, the sky a gradient of the same tones, and I wondered how mad my friends would be.
I wondered how seriously they really took the No-Fraternization-Rule, but suspected: very.
Iris did, at least. It was her rule, her trauma attached to it, and I’d bulldozed right through it.
Had driven full speed at Caden, who’d invited me in with open arms. Meanwhile, I’d invited him in with open legs.
In front of me, one of those relaxing videos was playing in real life—the sunrise, the roaring of the ocean: all that was missing was the musical backdrop. And yet, all I could think about was the man still sleeping beside me.