Chapter 15 Home Stretch （Margot） #2
“It’s only fair. You put me through two whole hours of hell downstairs during that movie. Had to keep my dick on a leash,” he rasps, tearing my robe fully open.
Yes, I’m naked underneath.
He rumbles his appreciation.
“If we were alone, I’d have made you ride my face on the floor.”
He’s. Killing. Me.
Then he parts my thighs, pushing my legs open, kneeling down and breathing warm teases against my pussy.
Instant goosebumps.
“Kane!” I grab the duvet for dear life.
His lips are so soft, yet infinitely wicked as he kisses his way up my inner thigh, biting along the way.
“Goddamn, you smell like sex. You’re going to come so hard on my tongue you’ll go blind.”
His words are a spell.
So I do the only thing I can.
I close my eyes and give my body to Kane Saint and the sweetest torture.
One hand on my knee, holding me open. The other across my stomach, pinning me down, like he knows how much I’ll writhe and how self-conscious I get with oral.
Only, with him, I barely notice.
He makes me feel that good, too drunk on sensation to do anything but feel.
It’s crazy that just this morning I woke up in his bed after our first night together. The way he touches me now makes me feel like he was made for this.
He was built to sweep away my senses, leaving a dangerous addiction and nothing else.
“Kane,” I whisper as his tongue sweeps my folds, tormenting my clit.
He takes his sweet time, mouth and scruff pressed to my hip, his hot breath caressing my inner thighs, my pussy, alternating until I bare my teeth.
I’m flipping panting.
I need him to bring me home more than I need oxygen.
“What do you want, woman? Use your words.”
“Stop teasing,” I gasp as he finally buries his tongue where I need him most.
He parts my folds, sucking and licking, fucking his way deeper until he reaches the spot on my inner walls that makes my legs shake.
Holy shiiit!
“Yeah, give it up. You taste so good, little duchess.” The way he groans is everything.
His eyes are feral daggers, cutting me open as he runs his tongue slowly over his lips.
I need a moment.
I need a thousand years.
The sheets feel soft under my clenched fingers, and he’s holding me down firmly.
He has to and he knows it.
I can see his muscles and veins bulging as he makes me his prisoner, forever willing, aching to be destroyed.
I don’t know why that’s so sexy, but it is.
He’s commanding like other men only wish they could be. I’ve been with boys before who tried to be dominant, but with them it was over the top. Forced.
With Kane, it’s as natural as a slow, relentless summer storm.
“Are you warm?” he whispers against the skin of my thighs.
“You’re… you’re asking me now?”
“You’re all goosebumps.” His fingers skim my flesh, caressing up my waist to my breasts. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not distracted. When you come for me, I want it all. Zero interference.”
I suck my bottom lip.
While it’s tempting to flip over and push him down on the bed and let him sink inside me now, the curve of his cheek tells me this is another tease.
One more part of the buildup to the revelry that might break me.
He knows what the goosebumps are for.
And he knows that after tonight, he’ll have my soul.
“Why don’t we just skip to the part where you fuck me?” I whisper, grabbing his hair and giving his head a little tug.
“Careful. That filthy mouth could get you into trouble.” His green eyes glow as he looks up my body like the hungry wolf he is.
“You haven’t heard anything yet, Mr. Saint.”
“I’d like to.”
“Then you know how to make me talk.”
He chuckles roughly, sucking my thigh hard enough to mark it before sliding two fingers deep.
“Fuck!” I arch my back, helplessly grinding against his face.
“I want to taste you in my goddamn dreams, duchess. If you don’t squirt, you’ll learn.”
Oh, shit.
He grunts with rough delight before his mouth goes to work again, sending me to heaven.
No resistance now.
No more teasing.
I’m so close already it’s like a raging fever about to peak and break.
It’s almost shameful how fast he throws me off the cliff.
No one else could ever do this.
Certainly not this easy.
But my breaths go shallow until I’m panting, frozen, waiting for that magic moment.
The cool air kisses my bare breasts when his mouth can’t, still damp from previous kisses.
His arm sears me as he holds me down.
My knees fall open, shaking, and he meets my eyes as he looks up at me with his mouth on my pussy.
This is the wild divine.
A slow, arrogant smile I feel against my flesh, unleashing a flood that’s biblical.
Coming!
My climax barrels through me, a rushing current of white-hot fire.
Three seconds in, I’m writhing, straining to cope with the enormity of what he’s done to me.
My psyche splits in two as my body convulses, all wet heat. I can’t tell where his face ends and I begin.
And I hear his command in every ruthless sweep of his tongue, centered on my clit and utterly merciless.
Come for me, Margot.
Come like you’re fucking mine.
I do.
God, yes, and I fall apart so beautifully the universe melts away until there’s just his magic kisses, my delicious torture, and endless green eyes.
He rides out every screaming convulsion before his head rises again, lips and chin damp with a primal look in his eyes.
“Now,” he whispers, stopping to swirl his tongue against my nipple as he travels up my body. “Now, I’ll fuck you.”
“Now? Don’t you want me to return the favor?” Somehow, I sit up, my robe pooling under me.
His cock presses against my stomach, hot and heavy, and I reach for it desperately.
He breathes a curse as I wrap my fingers around it.
“I’d rather fuck you,” he growls.
“And I’m pretty good with my mouth.” I push him back against the bed and position myself between his knees. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get to fill my pussy up.”
“Fucking deal.” He watches me with dark eyes as I lick the bead of moisture from the slit on his pulsing head.
With one last grin, I go to town, pushing my lips down his shaft, taking half of him—everything I can manage.
In no time, I’m gagging, but I love the mangled sound he makes, bucking his hips like a bull before he regains control.
This blow job isn’t elegant or slow or sweet.
It’s disgustingly hot.
Deliciously messy.
I love seeing him lose control, and I bring every trick in the book to ruin him.
Using my hands to follow my mouth, I stroke him deeper, swirling my tongue around his head like I’m licking an ice cream cone.
He fists my hair until he’s pulling.
I think he might want to guide me, but he just holds me as I work until his huge balls strain, tighter with every stroke, and he swells under my tongue.
“Duchess,” he grinds out.
Slowly, slowly I back off of him again.
He swears viciously, head dropping back as he fights the urge to finish.
But I knew he wouldn’t.
I climb back up his body to kiss him again.
He grabs my waist, supporting me as he gives me another deep kiss, tugging my bottom lip with his teeth.
It’s easy to fit his full, angry length against my wet center.
I try not to tremble and fail miserably.
His eyes are hazy with arousal as he looks at me.
“Dammit. I think I need a second,” he says with amusement. “Fuck, Margot. You’ve got me wrecked.”
“Yeah?” I rub my pussy, and my body sparks back to life, ready and aching. “I like you wrecked.”
“And I want to last longer than two minutes before I bust in you. I’m not looking for a third kid, but you should feel this nut in your womb.”
Holy hell.
Wrecked doesn’t begin to touch what that extra thrill about breeding me does to my system.
I’m starving to feel him buried so deep, hurling his seed in my belly.
“Make me feel it. Everything, mister.”
His swollen head slips inside me without another word, and we both groan.
Sweet relief.
Lunatic need.
Urgency.
It’s tempting to sink all the way down on him and throw my hips into milking him dry. To make myself his fuck toy with a single-minded purpose.
But he’s led our rhythm before.
Tonight, it’s my turn.
“Goddamn.” His fingers dig into my skin. “You look so fucking perfect. Love watching you take this dick.”
I roll my hips, changing the angle slightly as he tenses, every muscle hardening.
I think he forces himself not to bruise me.
He reaches up to cup my breast, rolling my nipple before pinching hard.
Fireworks.
He already has me seeing stars.
I take it slow, teasing him like he teased me as I slowly, gradually, sink down on him. His eyes are locked on my pussy as we fuse together, and he’s so big, stretching and invading, all the way to my womb.
I can’t breathe.
Before, my plan was to tease him, keep him on the edge, but my body involuntarily folds around him.
There’s nowhere like home.
Nowhere like Kane.
Nothing like his ten brutal, girthy inches.
Those stars in my eyes become snowflakes in a shaken globe.
He’s so deep now.
Somehow, today, I forgot just how big he is, how much he fills me, how good he feels.
When I move, the burn intensifies, building to the very edge of pain.
His face screws up more with every breath.
I plant my hand on his chest for balance as I slowly lift off him, then sink back down, my rhythm slow.
Glorious agony.
My hips jerk more, plunging him deeper, my pussy hugging his cock.
“Keep fucking going,” he grinds out, his eyes locked on mine.
There it is.
Permission.
To have the illusion of control, even if we both know he has full power to make me come into next year.
“Fucking obscene how good you feel,” he whispers. “Come on my cock, duchess. Come soon.”
He inhales sharply as I pick up speed.
His eyes are ocean depths and shadowed turquoise.
I squeeze him again, helpless to the motion.
“Don’t come yet,” I tell him, leaning forward, pressing against his chest and moving again.
The friction is unbearable.
Too much, but not enough.
Everything, and nothing.
His jaw clenches.
But his hands are so soft, even when they’re ready to tear me in two.