Cade #2
Yet that was something he had never shown the slightest sign of, and actually it was the opposite.
It was a lot like he described it, greedy.
Because he had been denied it before, he wasn’t going to be denied it anymore.
Even if it meant feeling me all the way deep inside him in a place he hadn’t felt someone before, he was going to take it.
“Oh, fuck,” he hissed when I pulled back and thrust, not as hard as I could, but enough to jolt his body. “Fuck yes, do that…and don’t stop.”
“Ya sure?” I asked, eager because, in all honesty, I had always been forced to be careful with previous partners, and while I sensed I could be less careful with him, I didn’t want to risk it.
“God, please,” he gasped, shoving his hips back so I was buried to the fullest. “Keep going and don’t stop.”
I wasn’t totally sold on the idea, but I was willing to try a little more.
Rearing back, I worked up a rhythm, not punishing, but harder than usual, especially when he was so vulnerable and bent before me.
Except for every bit of force I carefully added to my thrusts, he pushed back, demanding more.
It was as if I were being tested to see if I could give him exactly what he wanted, and yet each time I thought I was doing too much, he would demand even more.
What should have just been a frisky roll in the hay was quickly escalating, and I broke out in sweat as I thrust down into him at a pace I would have never dared with another partner.
Yet not once did I feel I was doing too much, going too hard.
If anything, I felt like even my best, my hardest, my fastest, wasn’t going to be enough.
That he would take everything I could give and want more.
He could take it, though. That much was obvious, even as I was burying myself with thrusts that made our skin crack against one another, mingling with his cries that were growing louder and more abandoned.
I was chasing those sounds, eager for more of them, oblivious to what was going on in my body as I slammed down into him.
It was only when his head rose with a strangled gasp that I came back to reality, realizing his body was bearing down around me with a force I recognized immediately. I didn’t dare change what I was doing, continuing to hammer away at him and leave him gasping and writhing.
Then I felt it, the way his body went so tight I thought he might explode until his back arched and his muscles squeezed around me.
I didn’t need to look to know he was spraying the sheets because we’d once again forgotten to put down a towel.
I had achieved what he swore had never happened to him before, something he believed wasn’t possible.
Which was all it took for me to slam home one more time and cry out, hunching over his sweating back.
My next cry was choked as pleasure wracked my entire body.
I had fucked him into an orgasm, and I was lost in the way he held me tight, his muscles gripping me, and the high of having achieved the impossible.
My fingers bit into his hips as I held him tight, every instinct screaming to stay as deep as possible, as if that would somehow break the biological impossibility and make him pregnant.
“Ah, shit,” I groaned, careful to pull out before I grew too sensitive. That was tricky, as I had made the mistake a couple of times of pulling out too quickly, and while he swore it didn’t hurt, it was a really uncomfortable feeling for someone on the receiving end.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasped as I drew him closer, pressing him against my chest.
It was a high unlike any other, and I didn’t even know what other highs felt like if they didn’t involve alcohol.
It was like flying high and yet being more grounded than I ever remembered feeling as I clung to him like a drowning man clings to the only floating object nearby.
He was the source of my high, the source of my comfort, and the source of everything that felt right with me in that moment… and in a very long time.
“How?” he asked, his sweaty forehead pressed against my sweaty chest, and he held onto me with a hold that was both desperate and yet loose. “What the fuck was that?”
“The thing ya said was impossible,” I told him.
“Oh my God,” he said with a shaky laugh. “Is that…is that you being smug? Are you being smug right now?”
“A little,” I admitted with a snort. “That a problem?”
“God no,” he said with a laugh, twisting so he was facing me and gripping the side of my face with a smirk. “I’ve never seen you smug about anything before.”
“Well, I mean,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was being put in front of the class to answer a question I had no hope of ever answering. “Ya said no one’s ever done that to ya before and then—”
“You did it,” he said with a smile; it was small, private, and full of meaning. “You fucked me until I came, of course you’re smug. You have every right to it.”
“Well, ya know, I’m big,” I said, suddenly no longer liking the spotlight.
He snorted. “Trust me, big doesn’t mean shit. If anything, big just gives some guys the excuse that it’s better. No, you got me off because…because, well, I guess because we—”
I watched his expression grow distant and thoughtful, and I tried to bite back my immediate demand to understand. There was something going on in his head, and I needed to let him work through it.
Except—
“Because what?” I asked softly, jostling him a little.
He snapped back to reality with a laugh. “Because you and I…are different, I guess. Different with each other, and just…different.”
“Of course we are,” I said without thinking, and then…I started thinking.
Why were we different? I mean, of course, there was the difference in how we knew each other before both our lives fell apart.
When our lives were simpler, when we could measure our lives in terms of minutes instead of looking back and seeing them through the lens of years, through experience.
We had both lost. Our losses were different, but they weren’t better or worse. They were just…different.
What was different?
After all, it wasn’t like I had been interested in any man before him. He had trotted along my path, neither of us understanding the impact of what that would mean, and now…now he was…what?
Because…he was him, that was it, wasn’t it?
He was him, and even if I tried to incorporate all the complications and complexities, all of it was still washed away because he was him.
He was just as difficult as I remembered, just as hardheaded, just as stubborn and willful, except now he was more obvious about it.
Maybe that was because he was being more honest, maybe it was because I was seeing more than I’d seen before, or maybe it was a mixture that I couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be able to really breakdown.
But he was him, and I loved that about him.
I opened my mouth to tell him that when shrieking filled the room, bouncing from every angle as the lights turned to full brightness.
His eyes widened, and I snapped my head around, surging upward as red light filtered into the room from lights that I’d never realized were there.
Getting to my feet, I barely noticed as he dressed, his hand on my elbow as he steadied himself.
“What…” he began, but then the door opened and men with guns filed in.
Danger. That was all I knew, just…danger. I couldn’t tell if they were aiming at me or Walker, but that didn’t matter. Even if they were here for me, they were here, and they were a threat; that was what mattered.
I dove forward without thought, my legs working in a way they hadn’t done for years.
The first of the men to enter the room was slammed against the wall with a jarring thud that would have sounded painful to me otherwise, but right now it sounded good.
There was shouting from the others, but I didn’t notice as I gave the first man another shove, making his head bounce off the solid wall, and watched him slump without caring.
“Cade, no!”
The next man swiveled, and I saw his eyes widen, and I understood.
This was someone who had never seen a fight, not the genuine kind anyway.
The kind where you’re forced to stare down the barrel of someone as willing as you are to fight, to kill, to die.
I almost felt pity for him, or at least I would have if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d come into my room with his weapon drawn, willing to use it.
His wrist broke with ease, and he crumpled when I shoved my knee into his gut and then—
Agony.
I whirled around as pain bolted from one end of my body to the other, and I realized it was…a Taser?
Who used Tasers in a war?
“Cade, stop!”
My muscles screamed in agony, my blood boiling as I twisted around and—
“No!” a scream belted forth, piercing through the understanding, piercing through my recognition.
Walker was before me, clutching my face with a desperate expression that snapped me back to…reality?
“Stop, please,” he whispered desperately. “Don’t do this, Cade, please don’t do this.”
“Walker?” I asked hoarsely, feeling myself dragged backward as his face contorted in misery.
“Stop, just stop, he’s just freaking out, he’s got PTSD, you fucking assholes,” he howled, thrashing in every direction and my instincts surged again and I lashed out at the next person to get near me because they were a threat and—
“Enough,” a new voice bellowed, and I snapped to attention. “You will stand down, now!”