16. Casey
CASEY
When there are only a few bites left on our plates and our glasses are empty, the conversation falls into a lull.
The air practically vibrates with anticipation, just like it did when I kissed her when she first got here.
She bites her lip while looking up through her eyelashes at me and that’s it.
I’m a goner. If I don’t touch her in the next ten minutes, I’m going to blow.
I stand to collect our bowls and take them to the sink. Without looking at her, trying to sound as casually in charge as I can, I say, “I’m going to clean up. That should give you about seven minutes to get ready.”
“Ready for what?” She feigns innocence, twisting the stem of her empty wine glass between her fingers.
The bowls clatter against the sink as I face her. “Are you going to be sassy tonight?”
“Maybe.” She smirks, but it falls when I continue to stare at her. “What would you like me to do?”
That’s better. This is my domain, and I’m in charge here.
That’s how she’s always liked it, and I’m happy to oblige.
Playing this part for her comes easy. Letting her fall into a place where she can clear her head and set her anxieties aside is a privilege I don’t take lightly.
She let it slip once that she likes to be told what to do, that she gets tired of making decisions, and the best part of being with me is that she doesn’t have to.
So I make a show of considering her question, slowly dragging my gaze up and down her body and letting myself linger anywhere I want. A small whimper escapes her, and I know she’s trying to contain her impatience.
“You on the bed. Clothes off. No touching yourself.”
She ticks a delicate eyebrow up. “I’m just supposed to lie there and wait for you?”
“Yes.”
Looking down, she twists her hands together.
For a moment, I fear I’ve fucked this whole thing up before it’s begun.
I stride to her, standing so close that she has to tip her face up to look at me.
Taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I kiss her.
It’s a sweet kiss, but with the promise of more.
Sweet kisses are dangerous. I want to kiss her like this all the time, to make her melt into me like she’s doing right now without pretending like it doesn’t mean anything.
But I indulge myself anyway. One can’t hurt.
When I pull away, her eyes are hooded and glassy. She lets out a small sigh, and I know I’ve got her where she needs to be.
“Don’t worry, baby.” The endearment slips out, and I force myself to remain impassive when I realize what I’ve said. Luckily, Trina seems lost in my touch enough that she doesn’t react either. “I’ll be fast, I promise.”
“Okay,” she breathes. Seemingly reluctantly, she lets go of me and shuffles into the bedroom. After a minute, I hear the soft whisper of fabric, and I assume she’s following my instructions.
If I were a stronger man, I’d take my time cleaning up.
Make her wait. Build the tension. But I also don’t want her to get too far inside her own head, so I scrape the plates and shove them in the dishwasher.
I toss the pot and pan in there too, even though I’m pretty sure they’re not dishwasher safe.
That’s a problem for later. I make quick work of washing out the wine glasses and putting them back in the cabinet.
And then I’m counting my steps to her, making sure they’re measured and not rushed.
Trina feeds off my confidence, and I want to be what she needs.
The sun had set as we were eating dinner, and she’s left the lights off in here. She sits on the edge of the bed, her palms digging into the comforter. The light from the street outside filters through the window behind her, bathing her in silver and glittering in her hazel eyes.
“Fuck, you are beautiful.” I’m talking without thinking, which is also dangerous. I already told her being inside her was heaven last time, which was close enough to declaring something neither of us is ready for. This is even closer.
“I wasn’t sure what to do…” She picks at a loose thread on the comforter. “I’m sorry. I…” She looks up at me, helpless.
Slipping further into my confident role, I shake my head. “This is perfect. Exactly what I wanted.” My fingers itch to touch her, and I realize I can if I want, so I do. I step up and graze a fingertip down her jaw. She’s gorgeous, striking. I like the way she looks under me.
I’m going to need to be a lot more careful if I’m going avoid feeling anything for her again. I clear my throat. “Color,” I demand.
“I was closer to yellow,” she admits, her voice shaky. “I don’t really like being in here alone.”
My heart cracks open. I knew that was a risky move. “Noted. I won’t do that to you again.” I indulge myself again by bending over and kissing her. “I’m sorry, baby.” There’s that nickname again. But her eyes flash this time. Interesting.
“It’s okay. I’m green now.” She is. I can tell by the gentle way her lips are parted and her breathing is deep, expectant.
“Good.” I slowly start unbuttoning my shirt. “I’ve been thinking about that mouth for weeks, Trina. Are you going to get on your knees for me?”
She nods quickly, sliding off the bed and to the floor. She rests her palms on her thighs and looks up at me, waiting.
“Such a good girl,” I murmur as I unzip my pants and let them slide to the floor, then shove my boxers off, kicking it all to the side.
My dick springs free, and I palm it, stroking a few times.
Trina’s hazel eyes follow the motion, her jaw slack.
She’s practically salivating for it, which is good. That’s exactly what I want.
“Open,” I demand. She complies immediately, flattening her tongue the way I instructed her to the last time we did this. “Good,” I croon. “You remember.”
She nods but keeps her mouth open. Her thighs squeeze together as she waits, and I can imagine she’s trying to relieve some of the tension there.
Unable to wait any longer, I take a step toward her and line up my dick with her pretty mouth. “If you can take me like you used to, I’ll give your pussy what it wants. Tap my thigh if it’s too much.”
Trina slides forward, taking me in her mouth and hollowing out her cheeks. She brings her hands up to the sides of my thighs and holds on as she works, her head bobbing up and down, taking me deeper each time.
“Fuck, Trina,” I groan. The head of my dick hits the back of her throat.
Her eyes start to water, but she doesn’t tap me, so I do it again.
I palm the back of her head, letting her silky hair run through my fingers before grabbing the strands, holding her where I want her, and thrusting.
Her throat closes around me, and I almost lose it.
But I hold on for another second, waiting for her signal.
Her eyes grow defiant as she looks up at me, and I know then that she won’t tap out, so I pull all the way out of her mouth while maintaining my grip on her head.
She sputters and coughs. When she catches her breath, she opens her mouth again, waiting for me.
A rough chuckle slips out as I tug on her hair. “You want more?”
She tries to nod, but she can’t move with the hold I have on her.
“Words, Trina,” I demand.
“More,” she says, her voice raspy.
I thrust into her mouth again, fucking those red lips as saliva drips over me and down her chin. She moans, and the vibrations around my dick almost send me right over the edge. Quickly, I pull out. She wipes her mouth, looking up at me and waiting.
“On the bed,” I say. “Lie back and open up for me.”
She does exactly as I say, putting her ass right on the edge of the mattress.
I pull a condom from the nightstand and waste no time ripping it open and rolling it over my length.
Hooking my hands under her knees and lifting her pelvis, I line myself up with her entrance.
I grip the underside of her legs and slide into her.
“Oh god,” she moans as she fists the comforter in her hands. “Casey, please. More.”
I set a slow, rhythmic pace. My grip on her legs makes it impossible for her to grind in the way she so clearly wants to. I know I’m not giving her enough sensation, but that’s on purpose. Teasing her is the best part—watching her writhe and beg makes me even harder inside her.
I thrust deeper this time. She cries out. “Yes, Casey. Harder.”
She knows what she wants, and it’s me. I can’t think about what that means, so I pump in and out of her, harder each time. Trina is wonderfully vocal tonight, letting out tiny little moans and gasps with each movement. Every time she says my name, I’m closer to coming.
But I can tell I’m not getting her there, so I slow my pace and let her ass hit the mattress again.
Shifting my weight, I bring one of her legs up to my shoulder, then I lift the other to the same shoulder so her thighs are pressed together.
I hold on around her calves and start a new rhythm, angling so my pelvis rubs up against her clit with each thrust.
Trina lets out a long, low moan to let me know this is what she needs. Her tits bounce beautifully until she cups them and rolls her stiff, pink nipples between her fingers.
“Shit, that’s hot,” I say. “I need you to come, Trina. I’m close.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums. She tightens the grip on her nipples, then cries out, her body shuddering and her pussy clenching around me.
That’s all it takes for me to follow her over the edge, emptying into the condom.
I remain inside her for another minute while I collect myself, and while I don’t want to pull out, I know I have to.
When I do, Trina rolls over quickly and stands, making her way to the bathroom.
While she’s in there, I dispose of the condom and clean up before I climb under the comforter, sitting so my back is resting against the pillows.
When Trina comes out of the bathroom and sees me, uncertainty crosses her features again. It’s as if she’s warring with herself—does she get in bed with me, or does she leave?
I know one thing for sure: I don’t want her to go.
“There’s ice cream in the freezer.” I’m not above bribing her with dessert. Luckily for me, her face lights up.
“Say less.” She bounds out of the bedroom, and I hear the clatter of dishes and silverware. After a few minutes, she comes back holding two bowls filled with vanilla ice cream. She hands one to me, then slides under the comforter, brushing casually against me as she settles herself.
She wiggles closer, resting her shoulder against mine before scooping up a huge spoonful of ice cream and licking it off the spoon. If I were younger, I’d probably be hard again just watching her.
“You did a number on my throat.” She giggles. “This is extra good.”
I smile as I watch her eat another spoonful. “I’m glad.” I scoop up my own bit of ice cream. “You okay?”
“God, yes.” She sighs, settling herself back against the pillows but not losing contact with me. I’ve been craving her touch since we were in Denver. There’s no way I’m going to ask her to move before she’s ready.
“Good,” I say before taking a bite.
A few minutes after she’s finished eating, she’ll leave.
There was only one time when she fell asleep on me, and I let her—right before things blew up for us the first time.
We won’t let that happen again. But for now, I lean a little closer to her, wiping some ice cream off her nose and licking it off my finger, soaking up the little happy sigh she makes when I do.