23. Cass #2
“I wasn’t mad at you, Sterling,” I say softly. “I was mad at my father—at what he said to you, at how he made me feel.”
Her lips part, something soft and hesitant flickering across her face. “Oh. I get that.”
I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “I didn’t handle it well. I never do, when it comes to him.”
“How can I make it up to you?” I ask, my voice rough with restraint.
She looks at me for a long moment, thick with emotion. I can see the way her thoughts flicker across her face—she’s trying to decide what to say, whether to say anything at all.
But her eyes are heavy with interest. With want.
And then one of her feet moves—slow, tentative—trailing along the length of my cock through my jeans.
Not an accident.
“Beautiful,” I say, barely keeping my voice level, “if you keep looking at me like that…while touching my cock…you might regret it.”
She tilts her head, all coy innocence. “What do you mean?”
Fuck, that’s hot.
“It’s taking everything I’ve got not to kiss you senseless right now,” I admit, my hand moving down to adjust myself. “I’m trying to give you space. Let you think about everything. But I’m not gonna lie?—”
I glance up at the ceiling, dragging in a breath, trying to keep it together.
“Being this close to you—to your nest—I’m so fucking hard it hurts. And it’s making me think things. Ask things that might scare you away.”
“Well…” she murmurs, voice playful now, “you never know if you don’t ask.”
Then she does it again—runs the arch of her foot along my length, bolder this time. Direct. Deliberate.
A deep, guttural growl rips from my throat before I can stop it.
I tip my head back, then turn slowly to look at her, eyes locking. My hands slide up her leg, circling her ankle, then her calf.
Pressing gently against the outside of her thigh, I coax it open—wider—until her shorts pull taut across her center, and I can see the heat radiating from between her legs.
Her breath catches.
And I know I’m not stopping now.
“Are you sure, darling?” I ask, voice low.
She just nods.
And that’s it. That’s all I need.
What the hell do I have to lose?
I’m done fighting this. She wants me. I want her. And that’s all the truth I need right now.
“I want to see your pussy,” I growl. “I want to see how wet you are. I want to smell your hot, sweet slick from right here.”
She gasps—a soft, breathy sound.
Then she leans back a little, letting her legs fall open wider. Her eyelids go heavy, and the look she gives me—while she slowly trails her hands down her stomach to the waistband of her shorts—that look will be burned into my memory forever.
Sterling hooks her thumbs into the legs of her shorts and slides them down with ease. Then she teases her underwear to the side—slow, deliberate—until I get my first look at her pussy.
Soft curls, the same warm chestnut as her hair, frame her slick, swollen folds—absolutely weeping.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I breathe, voice rough with awe.
I can see the edge of hesitation in her eyes, like her boldness has carried her this far but she’s not sure what comes next.
So I take some of the pressure off.
“Can you spread those lips for me?” I ask, voice low, coaxing. “I want to see how wet you are.”
She likes that—fuck, I can tell. Her scent spikes, sharp and sweet, and a soft whimper slips past her lips.
She doesn’t look away. Not once.
Holding my gaze, Sterling licks two of her fingers and drags them down her soaked slit, parting herself for me.
Pink, glistening, perfect.
And then she says, almost shy but laced with teasing heat?—
“Maybe I don’t want you to give me space.”
Her voice wavers at the edges, still uncertain. But when I look at her, I don’t just see an Omega.
I see Sterling.
Offering.
And I’m just so fucking tired of doing what I’m supposed to.
“Fuck it.”
I reach for her, dragging both hands up her legs, over her thighs—and she lets out a surprised squeak that’s so damn cute it pulls a low laugh from my chest.
Then I’m pulling her into my lap, her legs spreading wide around my hips, her slick-soaked pussy pressing hard against my cock through my jeans.
She melts into me, and I grip her hips, guiding her with slow, rough rolls against me, grinding her down until we’re both shaking.
“Fuck, little bird…you’re gonna kill me,” I groan, voice wrecked, before crashing my mouth to hers.
Our first kiss had been fire and instinct—fueled by a heat spike and desperation.
But this?
This is reverent.
Like I’m worshipping something I never thought I’d be allowed to touch.
Her breath is shaky, her pulse wild beneath my fingers as I pull back to look at her. I cup the side of her face, my thumb brushing over the flush of her cheek.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
Wide, storm-gray eyes, kiss-swollen lips parted, her scent thick and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a drug I never knew I wanted but now can’t live without.
“Cass, why are you stopping?” she breathes, my name barely a whisper, a plea that sends something sharp and possessive straight through my chest.
I should slow down, give her a chance to think.
But I just can’t…
I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes her lips.
She melts instantly, her body pressing into mine, her hands run up into my hair, holding me to her as she lets me ravage her mouth.
I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, taking more, pulling her bottom lip in between my teeth.
Her lips are so soft, yielding under mine, hot and sweet, tasting like sweet cinnamon, sugar, and Sunday afternoons.
Sterling moans, a helpless, visceral sound, and I feel it like a pulse of heat straight to my cock.
I slide my hands down her curves, gripping her hips, pulling her flush against me, letting her feel exactly what she’s doing to me. I can feel her hot center riding me as I push up against her, guiding her hips in a rough rhythm.
Her tongue meets mine tentatively, and I growl into her mouth, licking deep, claiming her, dragging her closer until there’s no space between us at all.
She tilts her head back, offering her neck, surrendering, her body soft and pliant beneath my hands, her scent spiking with something thick, rich, undeniably Omega.
My control snaps.
I slide a hand into her hair, tugging her head back and nipping at her where her neck and shoulder meet. Biting just hard enough to almost break the skin. The urge to bond mark her suddenly so powerful I have to stop before I do something neither one of us is ready for.
I take nips at her neck, leaving little marks before bringing her head up, forcing her to meet my kiss with equal hunger.
She does.
God, she does.
Her nails scrape against my scalp, her thighs tightening, her breath coming in ragged, needy little gasps between kisses. I can tell she’s almost there just from this. Her slick is so potent it’s intoxicating.
She’s so warm, so sweet, so fucking perfect, and I could kiss her forever, lose myself in her completely.
She moans again, soft and desperate, her hips rocking against mine, and fuck?—
“Tell me to stop,” I breathe against her lips. “Please.”
She doesn’t.
She just shakes her head, eyes bright with raw need.
“Not stopping,” she whispers through kisses along my neck.
I groan, digging my fingers into her thighs, dragging her closer until I’m drowning in how fucking much I need to be inside her.
She moves against me, rolling her hips, and I swear to God I almost release right then.
“Fuck, Sterling,” I rasp, burying my face in her neck, dragging my teeth along her pulse.
She shudders, hands threading into my hair, tilting her head to the side in silent offering.
I could mark her.
I could take her completely.
And fuck—I want to. Instead, I suck at her flesh until I know she’ll be covered in my mark and the sensation is almost pain. I’m rewarded with a needy sound of pleasure.
She moans again, soft and desperate, her hips rocking against mine, and fuck?—
I can’t stop myself.
One hand slides down, gripping the curve of her ass, tugging her flush against me, letting her feel exactly how hard she’s got me before I bring my hand between us, dipping beneath the waistband of her leggings.
She gasps into my mouth, but she doesn’t stop me. Her thighs part instinctively, and she leans back to give me better access, welcoming me in, her body already trembling as my fingers glide lower, seeking, finding through her curls?—
Fucking hell.
She’s so wet.
Dripping.
Soaking through her panties, her slick coating my fingers before I’ve even done a damn thing.
A rough growl vibrates in my chest, my forehead dropping to hers as I stroke slowly through her wet swollen flesh, teasing her, dragging my fingers through her heat.
“Cass, please,” she whimpers, and I could die happy just hearing that.
I press my fingers deeper, slipping inside her, swallowing the sharp gasp she lets out as she clutches at my shoulders.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” I murmur against her lips, my voice strained, my control razor-thin. “So fucking wet for me.”
She nods, desperate, needy, hips already moving, seeking more.
I give it to her.
Two fingers, pressing in, stretching her open, filling her just enough to make her moan. She’s so tight.
I pump them slowly, deliberately, my thumb brushing lightly over her clit, teasing, coaxing her higher.
Her body shudders, her breath breaking into gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Cass, please?—”
Fuck, yes.
I’m driving my fingers into her slick heat with steady, unrelenting strokes. She’s so tight, so hot, so fucking perfect.
I can feel her body coiling, feel her tension winding tight, feel the way she’s already so close, already teetering right on the edge. Her pussy clenches and flutters around my fingers and I can tell she's so close.
Suddenly she pulls back a little and grips the hem of her shirt, dragging it over her head, and when I see her bare breasts, flushed, wanting—I swear I forget how to breathe.
They’re perfect, large and round and so soft tipped with the prettiest pink nipples jutting toward me, begging for me to take them into my mouth.
I dip my head, taking one achingly tight peak between my lips, sucking deep, rolling my tongue over the stiff bud as my fingers continue thrusting into her, curling, stroking.
She shatters.