24. Sterling #2
I nod, dazed, heat-glazed, desperate. He presses soft kisses to my pelvis and the swell of hips before he’s between my thighs again, sliding his hands up, spreading me open, exposing me to his gaze.
He groans, the sound vibrating through my core.
“I could look at your slick pussy forever.” He drags his tongue through my slick folds, and I jolt, my breath escaping in a broken moan.
“Oh my God?—”
My hips lift on instinct, seeking more, but he pins me down, holding me still by trapping my leg and hip in his other hand as he devours me.
He laps at me like he owns me. Like this is his right—his reward.
The fingers of his free hand slide inside me, slow and sure, curling and stretching, working me open with maddening precision.
I can’t take it. I can’t.
My walls clench around him—resisting and welcoming him all at once. Holding him in like my body already knows who he is to me.
“You need to be ready for me, little bird,” he rasps against me, his breath hot and teasing.
I whimper, clenching around his fingers, my body already so close, so desperate.
“You’re so damn tight.”
I sob his name, clawing at the sheets, the pleasure too much, not enough, everywhere. And then I’m tipping over the edge and pure slick hot pleasure pulses through me.
I come hard, my slick gushing, my thighs quivering, core gripping his fingers, but he doesn’t stop.
Cass keeps lapping me up, keeps fucking me with his fingers, pushing me higher, further. Then he pulls my clit into his mouth and sucks hard. The sensation sends stars to my eyes and pulls another orgasm from me before I’ve even recovered from the first.
When he pulls back, his lips are shiny with my slick, his eyes dark and hungry, his cock straining painfully against his jeans?—
I reach for him.
He grabs my wrist, pushing me away, shaking his head.
“This is about you,” he says, his voice low, reverent.
I watch—dazed, breathless—as he strips off his shirt, then his jeans, finally baring himself to me completely.
Golden skin. Hard muscle. All of him on full display.
He’s gorgeous.
My eyes trace the ink I’ve never noticed before that curls over his shoulder and upper arms, disappearing down the planes of his back. I follow the lines of his tight abdomen, drinking in every inch of him.
Every part of his body is carved, honed—clearly built for work. Power. Purpose.
My gaze catches on the sharp V of his hips, and heat curls low in my belly.
This man is dangerous. And I want every part of him. I suck in a sharp breath. My eyes go lower and see his cock jutting from a patch of dark blond hair.
He’s—
“You’re…”
“Big?” He smirks.
“Huge.” I nod, flushing suddenly anxious.
He drops to his knees and settles back between my thighs, his presence overwhelming and deliberate.
With one strong hand, he forces my knees wider, spreading me open for him. His other hand wraps around the base of his cock, just above his already swelling knot, and he drags the thick, flushed tip slowly through my slick folds—teasing me, watching every little reaction.
My breath stutters. My body pulses with need. I can feel his cock at my entrance, lazily teasing, slowly pushing and then pulling back.
“It’s going to feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, voice rough and full of promise.
And I don’t know if he’s talking to me or to himself.
But God, I believe him.
I bite my lip, my hips lifting, offering, needing.
And then he pushes inside—just the thick tip at first—stretching me open.
It’s slow. So goddamn slow.
He eases in inch by inch, then pulls out slightly, only to press in again, pushing a little deeper each time.
Each slow thrust has me gasping, my body clenching around him, trying to draw him in faster—but he won’t rush.
I whimper, my body struggling to take him, to stretch around the sheer size of him.
“Fuck,” he groans, stopping, his jaw tight. His muscles tense, one hand gripping my hip, stopping me from moving. “You’re so tight.”
I let out a soft cry, my nails digging into his arms.
“Relax,” he whispers, his lips brushing against mine, sinking in deeper, stretching me open.
My body fights it, until he brings his hand to my core and dips his fingers in my slick and circles my clit. My body surrenders, melting around him, taking him inch by inch.
“Breathe, sweetheart.”
I do.
And when he finally bottoms out—when he’s fully inside me, so deep I can feel the swell of his knot, teasing, begging to be buried deep in the tight, scorching heat of my body—my walls clamp down around him, and he groans, low and claiming.
Then he starts to move.
It’s slow at first, steady, giving me time to adjust—giving me time to feel every thick inch of him with each deliberate drag and deep, plunging thrust of his hips.
It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect.
He’s not just fucking me—he’s claiming every part of me with every slow, reverent stroke.
But I want more.
I tilt my hips up, meeting him, urging him on, moaning his name like I was made for this.
“Cass—please?—”
“I got you, baby,” he groans, gripping my hips, pulling me down, thrusting into me deeper, harder.
I arch beneath him, nails scraping down his back, my body burning, spiraling, breaking.
And then I’m coming again, my inner walls clenching around him, gripping his cock, dragging him straight into madness.
I feel it building?—
His knot swelling. I can feel each thrust start to push me open wider and wider as his knot swells.
His body locking into instinct he can’t fight.
“Sterling, I?—”
“Do it,” I breathe. “Please.”
That’s all it takes.
He gives me three more brutal thrusts—and then his eyes squeeze shut.
With one final drive of his hips, his knot breaches me.
It stings at first—just a sharp, stretching pressure as it slips past my entrance—but then I’m lost.
Lost to how goddamn good it feels.
“Oh…God…Sterling.” My name sounds like a prayer on his lips.
He surges deep, locking us together as his release hits hard and fast, flooding me with warmth and the dizzying sense of being loved.
His knot locks into place inside me, his cock pulsing deep inside me, filling me, stretching me completely.
I shudder as another orgasm crashes over me, moaning as I take it all—every drop, every pulse—my body accepting everything he gives me.
And then I go boneless, completely undone.
My eyes flutter closed as I sink into the nest beneath him, warm and limp.
Cass holds himself up just enough to keep from crushing me, but he doesn’t let go. He bends down and presses little kisses to my cheeks and the corners of my eyes. And then he wraps himself around me, arms tight, his presence grounding.
I’m about to open my mouth and tell him all the things that are swirling around in my head, feeling like I should say something, when I hear an odd rumbling sound coming from his chest.
The sound is so calming that before I know it, I feel sleep tugging at my brain.
Claimed. Filled. Sated.
I fall asleep in his arms, still locked on his knot to the sound of what I think is a purr.