Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
QUENTIN
He walked her back to the guest house, the night air cool and quiet, the kind of quiet that made every little sound seem ten times louder.
When they reached the door, he stopped, and she turned to face him. For some inexplicable reason, his stomach did a weird flip. He suddenly felt sixteen again, standing on a porch with sweaty palms and no idea what the socially acceptable goodbye move was. Wave? Kiss? A firm handshake?
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat like he was about to defend a dissertation instead of say goodnight, “I had a really great day. Thank you for letting me take you on a very respectable, very non-date.”
“Is this the part where you tip your imaginary cowboy hat and ask my father for my hand?” she teased, smirking like she knew exactly how flustered he was.
He narrowed his eyes at her. Oh, so she wanted to play? Fine. He stepped closer, closing the space between them with every step. Close enough that her smile faltered just a little.
“No,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “This is where I kiss you to shut you up.”
Before she could fire back with something undoubtedly infuriating, his lips crashed against hers.
And holy hell. His world tilted as the kiss deepened, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair like she was testing just how crazy she could make him.
She tugged at his hair and a low, involuntary groan rumbled from his chest.
He pulled her closer, molding her against him.
Her breath hitched as she parted her lips, letting him in, and the second their tongues met, it was game over.
Molten heat shot straight down his spine.
His world narrowed to the taste of her, the feel of her, and the singular, all-consuming thought that he might actually die if he ever had to stop kissing her.
Her hand fumbled behind her, searching for the doorknob. She grasped it, twisting it open with a soft click as the door creaked slightly ajar.
"We should slow down," he rasped against her lips, his breath hot and uneven, forehead pressed to hers.
Her eyes blazed, wide and dark with want. Her chest heaved between them, her breath shaky, and when she bit her lip his cock throbbed in response, aching against the front of his jeans.
“Fuck slow,” she whispered, her voice husky, a plea and a challenge all at once.
Their mouths collided, messy and raw, tongues tangling in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation.
He groaned, deep and guttural, grabbing fistfuls of her ass as she ground against his cock like she needed friction or she’d combust.
“Jesus—” he choked, backing her into the nearest wall, crowding every inch of space between them.
Her fingers clawed under his shirt, nails dragging down his stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
When she tugged his hair, hard, he growled, hips jerking forward involuntarily, grinding his aching length against her.
Another rough, helpless groan. At this rate, he was going to fucking lose it before he even got inside her.
“How do you like it, honey?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low. “Did you like it when I was a little rough with you last time?”
He already knew the answer, it was written all over her. In her ragged breath, the desperate way she clutched at him, the wild glint in her eye. But he wanted her to say it. He needed her to.
"Rougher," she breathed. The sound of it, the sheer fucking need in her voice, made his cock throb against the confines of his jeans.
"You like it when I boss you around?" he asked, lips brushing hers, fingers flexing tighter on her hips.
"Yes," she moaned, her body pressing even closer. “God, yes.”
"Okay, honey," he rasped. His hands slid lower, palming her ass, squeezing possessively. "But you tell me if it’s too much."
And then he kissed her again, there was no tenderness this time. He backed her toward the wall, pinning her there, trapping her with his body, his hands, his mouth.
She gasped against him, her nails scraping down his back, her hips arching into his. He kissed a rough path down the side of her neck, tasting her skin, feeling her pulse race against his tongue.
She was frantic, fumbling with his belt then the button of his jeans. The way she pawed at him, whimpered under her breath, nearly drove him out of his mind. But he caught her wrist, stilling her.
"Desperate for my cock?" he teased, voice a low, filthy rumble. Her only answer was a needy whimper, her eyes hooded, her mouth parted, her body vibrating with want.
"Show me," he ordered, stepping back just enough to make room. His voice turned hard and commanding. "On your knees."
She dropped instantly, no hesitation. It was a beautiful, wanton sight.
Her hair spilled around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling as she panted for him.
Her small hands rested on his thighs, waiting for his next order.
The woman who fought him at every turn, who never gave ground, now knelt obediently at his feet.
It wrecked him, lit him up in ways nothing else ever had.
“Look at you,” he murmured, running a thumb across her jawline, tilting her face up. “Practically salivating for it. Such a little slut for me.”
She whimpered softly at his words, her nails curling slightly against his legs, her lips parting as though to plead. The way she hung on every word, every movement, drove him wild.
"Take off your top," he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me see those pretty tits while you beg for it."
With shaking fingers, she undid each button, one by one, the fabric slipping apart under her trembling hands.
When she reached the last one, she shoved it aside and flicked open the clasp of her bra.
The lace fell away, revealing soft, milky tits, her nipples already tight from anticipation.
The sight punched the air from his lungs.
He stood there, breathing heavily, making her squirm under the weight of his gaze.
His stare devoured every inch of her: the flush creeping up her chest, the slight tremble in her thighs, the way she met his eyes with a challenge burning bright behind the nerves.
His hand twitched at his side, aching to touch, to claim.
But he stayed rooted, hellbent on making her wait, making her ache for him.
"Play with them," he ordered, his voice a low scrape of need.
Her hands obeyed, sliding up to cup her breasts. She rolled her nipples between her fingers. Her moan was a heady, broken thing, and he fucking felt it all the way to his bones.
Slowly, he reached for his zipper. The metallic rasp of it dragging down was deafening in the heavy silence.
Her eyes locked onto his hands, her lips parting slightly as she watched, utterly transfixed.
He was hard, painfully so, veins straining along the length of him, the head flushed and leaking.
Her breath hitched and her thighs pressed together instinctively.
"Afraid you can't take it?" he taunted, his voice rough with barely restrained hunger. "You will, honey. But first, you have to earn it. Now touch your pussy."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
Slowly, she slid one hand into her pants.
The movement was hesitant at first, but the second her fingers dipped down, her breathing stuttered.
She found her rhythm, rubbing slow circles, her hips giving a tiny, desperate twitch.
"That’s it," he murmured, stepping closer. He traced his thumb along her lips, pulling at the plush bottom one until her mouth fell open with a soft moan.
“Open that pretty mouth,” he ordered, voice tight.
She obeyed instantly, mouth parting wide. He guided his cock to her lips, groaning low when she wrapped them around him, hot and eager. His hand threaded into her hair, fisting gently, guiding her deeper.
Her moan vibrated along his shaft, sending a brutal jolt of pleasure racing up his spine. She sucked harder, swirling her tongue and he had to brace himself, hips flexing forward despite his effort to stay still.
"Fuck," he gritted, feeling his control shred apart strand by strand.
She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears from the stretch of him. The sight of her mouth stuffed full, her cheeks hollowed, her hand working herself beneath her pants was nearly enough to make him lose it right there.
“Are you gonna come for me?” he growled, voice jagged and tight. “Playing with that needy little pussy while you suck me off?”
She whimpered around him, and the sound was pure sin.
Muffled, wet, and obscene. It shot through him like a lightning bolt.
Her hand between her thighs moved faster.
Her hips jerked, rocking into her own touch with wild, desperate rhythm, eyes fluttering shut as she moaned around his cock, the vibrations making his knees threaten to buckle.
“Fuck, just like that,” he bit out, watching her unravel for him. On her knees, mouth full of him, wrecked and needy and completely unashamed.
Then she trembled. Her body went taut, her thighs shaking as she broke apart with a raw, keening sound that vibrated right down his spine. Her orgasm hit her hard, lips still wrapped around him, the choked little cries humming through his cock and setting his entire body on fire.
“Honey, I’m gonna —,” he groaned, hips jerking uncontrollably, his voice breaking as the heat surged up, unstoppable.
He tried to pull back but she clutched his hips harder, nails digging into his skin, dragging him back in. Her lips sealed around him with greedy pressure, sucking him deeper.
“Oh, fuck.” The words were a hoarse snarl as his release tore through him, brutal and blinding. He came hard, spilling into her mouth in thick, hot pulses, and she took it. Swallowed every last drop like she couldn’t get enough.