Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Cat
I t’s the turkey. I know this as a fact before he ever enters my room with the massive pan cradled against his chest. What I don’t expect is for him to bring company with him.
“Maverick?” I shout as I scramble to cover my nearly naked body. Bennett’s warning rings in my head, and I don’t want the poor guy to lose his eyes. “What are you doing in here?”
He looks at Bennett. “He explained it to me, and I still don’t understand.”
Bennett places the pan on top of the dresser. The shining metal side bumps against a moose statue, sending it to the floor. Thankfully, it doesn’t break, and he places it back where it goes.
“It’s fucking simple,” he says. “I want to spend the night with Cat. That means you have to spend the night in my room.”
“Why does that mean I have to sleep in your room? Why can’t I stay in mine?” Maverick shifts his weight and tries not to look at me. Bennett must have issued the same warning to him. “Won’t people just assume I’m in here if they hear the sounds of lovemaking?”
“Please don’t call it that,” I say.
“What’s the pan for?” Maverick asks. “That’s not part of the fucking, is it?”
“Please don’t ask any more questions,” I manage to squeak out. All of this embarrassment is doing a number on my vocal cords. “Can you just sleep in his room?”
Maverick blows out a breath and swipes his hand through his hair. “I guess so, but I’m fucking glad this thing is over after tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night?” Bennett and I say in unison.
“The retreat is supposed to run for two more nights,” I say, “with everyone departing for the airport on the last day.”
“Oh, that’s right. You guys weren’t here earlier when they discussed it,” Maverick says. “This snow we’re getting tonight is just the start, and we’re due for a whiteout on what was supposed to be the departure day. Jim didn’t want us to be stranded, so he thought it would be best to end things a day early. Everyone agreed, and Ezra went into town to adjust everyone’s flights. Everything has been taken care of.”
“Well, thanks for the heads-up. You can get the fuck out now.” Bennett starts pushing him toward the door, but he digs his heels into the carpet.
“Wait, what’s the pan for?” he says as he’s pushed across the threshold.
Bennett closes the door on him and turns to me.
“No, seriously,” I say. “What’s the pan for?”
He smiles at me, and a glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes.
“I’m not fucking a turkey, Bennett.”
His shoulders droop. “Oh, don’t be so fucking closed-minded.”
“I’m not. I’m closed-legged. You aren’t getting cold, slimy poultry skin anywhere near my pussy.”
“I didn’t plan on putting it in your pussy.”
My asshole pulls inward. “Get out.”
He takes a few steps toward me, and I grab a pillow and hold it up like a shield. If there’s one thing I’m beginning to understand, it’s that his touch does something to me. His kisses are an amnesia tonic, scrambling my brain and causing me to forget my self-respect.
If he works his magic on me, I’ll cave and degrade myself.
“Kitten, don’t be like that.” He steps closer and sits on the bed. “Look, if you aren’t comfortable, I’ll drop it.”
“No you won’t!” I toss the pillow at his head. “You’ll just kiss me and talk me into it with your tongue.”
He leans closer, and his body heat batters my exposed skin. “If you don’t want to do it, we won’t do it.” His hands snake beneath the blanket and caress my thighs.
Goosebumps rise on my skin, and he smirks. It’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going. His fingers wander higher, skating across my stomach beneath the thin satin. As he touches me, he looks into my eyes.
“I’m not a good man. I will never be a good man. But for you, I will be without reproach.” He leans down and kisses my stomach. “For you, I will muzzle myself and come to heel.” His lips part, and he sucks my skin into his mouth. His tongue swirls until I’m certain I’ll come right on the spot. “I will never be a good man, kitten, but I will be good to you .”
A moan eases out of me as I allow my hands to wander over his shoulders. He stretches his legs behind him and moves the blanket so that he can kiss my thighs.
“If you say no, then the answer is no.” His warm breath brushes over the trail of wet kisses, sending a cooling breeze up my nightie.
On his stomach, he inches closer, until his mouth is only a breath away from my pussy. My toes curl as I anticipate the heat of his tongue melding with my sensitive skin.
“If you don’t want to play out my fantasy, what about one of yours?” He pulls my panties aside and runs his tongue through my lips. “God, I could eat you for every meal.”
“That,” I say. “That’s my fantasy. A man who can’t get enough of me.”
“Mission accomplished, then.”
He dives between my legs again, and I lean back. As he licks me and bathes my sensitive clit with attention, I should be lost to the pleasure. I mean, it feels fucking amazing. But my mind keeps wandering back to his suggestion.
What part of the turkey did he plan to put in my ass, exactly? And how did he plan to retrieve it? Are we talking a shit-on-my-chest scenario? Like . . . how far does this fantasy run?
“Bennett?”
“Hmm?” The sound vibrates against me, and my toes curl again.
“I have questions. About the . . . turkey.”
He keeps eating me out, only turning his head to say, “Ask away.”
“Okay, so I know the ‘where’ is my ass, but I’m still confused about the ‘what’ and the ‘how.’”
He pushes two fingers inside me and gently massages my clit with his thumb. “The leg. It’s a process.”
“Explain.”
He releases a deep sigh and sits up. “Do you want to get off or do you want to launch into the stratosphere and lose all bodily function for a solid thirty seconds? If it’s the former, shut up and let me make you come. If it’s the latter, give me your ass and a little bit of trust.”
I bite my lip. This is a very difficult decision.
“Well?” he says.
“Don’t rush me!”
Having an orgasm that gives me an out-of-body experience is tempting, but again, raw poultry.
“Does it have to be the turkey leg?” I say. “I have some anal beads in the drawer. If they aren’t big enough, I have an actual butt plug in my bag. You know, the sex toy that was invented for this precise purpose?”
“It has to be the turkey leg.”
“It’s not safe for so many reasons. It doesn’t even have a flared base. It’s the opposite of flared. And what if the meat comes off? How the fuck do we get it out of me?”
“Ye of little faith,” he says with a shake of his head. “I brought a condom to ensure nothing actually touches you and everything can be safely removed. As for the rest, you’ll just have to trust me.”
I glance at the pan on the dresser. While I didn’t get a good look at the bird while Bennett was busy fucking it, I imagine it’s a pretty large carcass, considering the size of the massive metal casket. I’ve shoved some pretty sizable objects into my ass, but I doubt anything that big.
But then I look at Bennett, and I can almost taste that orgasm.
“Don’t make me regret this,” I say as I get on all fours.
I expect him to rush for the turkey leg, but he rushes toward me instead. His hands caress my ass, brushing over my skin before slapping down with an audible crack. I whimper and drop my head to the pillows.
“Your ass is so perfect,” he whispers before biting it. His teeth drive into my flesh, but it’s more pleasure than pain. Even the momentary pinching sensation makes my pussy clench.
He slides my panties down my legs, then tosses them to the floor. I try not to laugh as Shorty zips from beneath the bed and swats them under the dresser.
But all humor disappears as Bennett positions himself behind me and spits on my asshole. “You have to relax,” he says as his thumb brushes over this delicate part of me.
He moves off the bed, but I don’t watch him as he prepares whatever he has in store for me. I don’t want to know how big it is or how he plans to get it inside me. My focus remains on the promise of an orgasm the likes of which I’ve never experienced.
Plastic rustles, and seconds later, something cold presses against my asshole. It’s not nearly as large as I feared, but it’s much harder than I anticipated. I can only assume he’s coming at me with the bony end, though I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.
So I do the only thing I can. I brace myself and bite the pillow.