Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
CASSIUS
The meeting with Granger took just fifteen minutes.
We literally had to sign some initial paperwork, and we received news from Dylan’s parents’ lawyer, which was almost laughable.
Laughable in as much as it was clear their lawyer knew he wouldn’t be winning any court time but was willing to open up negotiations with a face-to-face meeting.
Needless to say, Granger had already formed a polite version of a “not in this lifetime” response and just needed Dylan to sign off on it.
It meant we had plenty of time for our flight out to Chicago to take in the League Championship Final. Pearce, my asshole friend who’d abandoned the Eagles to go play for the Jetts, had scored us tickets.
Sure, I’d griped when he’d called me a couple of nights ago, giving him shit about his team playing in the finals, but I was happy as hell for him.
Not that I’d be wearing a Jetts jersey any time soon. But between his team and the Mountain Lions, I’d be reluctantly rooting for his team’s win.
As soon as we entered our hotel suite, I stretched out on the bed. It didn’t matter how much legroom business seats claimed to offer, it still felt like my knees had been under my chin.
“I’m just going to call Mama T to check on Mikey,” Dylan said as he sat on the mattress beside me, leaning against the headboard.
“Sounds good. Tell everyone I love them.”
A delicate smile curved his lips, awakening the flutter of wings that seemed to be present every time we were together. And even when we were apart and I thought about Dylan. The same sensations had been my constant since our wedding day. I swore I was losing my goddamn mind.
“I think I’ll grab a quick shower. It’s a short flight, but I still stink of airplane farts.” The words spilled out of me, earning me a chuckle and cutting through the lust fogging my mind and controlling the flurry of awareness.
“You do that. I’ll grab one after.”
Even as I bobbed my head, my gaze drifted to his mouth. The last time we’d been in bed together, I’d practically jumped him.
Or hell, maybe he’d jumped me.
Either way, it had ratcheted me up in a way I hadn’t experienced in so long.
When Mikey’s cries had smacked us with a reality check last night, I’d hightailed it out of there with a hard dick and feeling even more confused.
A good night’s sleep snuggled up to Dylan hadn’t done a thing to mute my spiraling thoughts.
But now, unable to pull my focus from his lips, I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad thing to explore this chemistry between us.
There was no denying that’s what it was.
Because that kiss on our wedding day and his dick rubbing against mine last night had been hot enough to create sparks.
“Hey, Mama T.”
I jerked at his words, not realizing he’d made the move to call my mom. How long had I been staring at him? If the pink in his cheeks and the wariness in his gaze as he stared at me despite the conversation he was having were anything to go by, an uncomfortably long time.
That was my cue to leave.
And ideally get rid of this tent in my pants with a cold shower.
Grabbing our toiletry bag, because yes, we shared, I headed into the bathroom, turning on the shower as soon as I entered.
As I set about soaping up, I tried to focus on the water sluicing over my body. Calming, non-sexy thoughts refused to come. Maybe I really did need to turn the temperature to cold.
I looked down at my bobbing cock. Likely a mistake since all that did was make me harder. Hornier.
Sinking into Dylan…
Fuck, not a memory I should have been delving into when all I could think about lately was doing so again and again.
He’d been my first and my last.
I gripped my cock, unable to keep myself in check.
What would he think if he knew he was the only man I’d been buried balls deep into?
Would he get off on that? Like the idea so much he’d be willing to open for me?
My hand picked up speed, working my cock, allowing a dip of my fingers to grope my balls on the third stroke.
Would he bend for me this time? Though on top would be fucking hot. To kiss and suck his tongue into my mouth. But to be able to have an uninhibited view as I dicked him good and hard…
“Fuck.” The word tore out of me with a shaky gasp. My knees trembled, weak as heat licked at my skin and bubbled in my gut.
I rubbed the underside of my cock, just beneath my helmet. A shudder rippled through me at the sensation.
Dylan’s mouth on me, licking that exact spot before taking me deep.
“Oh fuck.” My hold tightened, accelerated. Water bounced off my fast-working hand.
I needed… something. More friction. More lube than the shower gel that had almost washed away.
More—
My head jerked as a sound broke through my pounding pulse.
Dylan.
Standing there.
Gaze glued to me. Pink-cheeked and wide-eyed.
A flash of heat, a sharp tingle in my spine, and I parted my lips.
His tongue dipped out, just the peak, a sliver as he swiped it over his bottom lip, and I was gone. Lost in his lighter shade of brown eyes.
My orgasm barreled through me. I should have looked away, but he pinned me down, all heat and interest and scorching desire. I couldn’t stop this from happening.
The first rope of cum spilled out of me. I didn’t look to check. Didn’t stop working my hand.
Our gazes remained locked, and fuck knew how I kept my eyes open from the pleasure tearing through me.
Another spurt and I groaned.
I lost his eyes and grieved for them for a split second until I saw where his gaze landed.
Another tempting peek of his tongue as he roamed my body, settling resolutely on my cock.
And fuck, another spurt and I was sure my legs were going to give way.
A ripple of goose bumps danced over my skin as my whole body shuddered. Heavy breaths mingled with the sound of spraying water.
And still, Dylan stood there. Soundless. His chest moving rapidly.
Taking him in fully, I soaked up the expanse of skin on display. He wore his cock-hugging boxers. But there was no tenting in sight.
Fuck no. Even better was his rigid cock head poking out, a good inch visible and refusing to be contained.
Want roared to life, so raw, so immediate that I moved before I could process my intent. Left the shower before I could second guess myself.
“Cass?” The breathy question from Dylan did nothing but ramp up my desire.
Hooking my fingers into his boxers, I paused, not breaking eye contact. “Let me.”
Unsure if that had been an order or a question, I all but vibrated as I waited for something, anything from Dylan, letting me know I could have this.
“You want…?” The slide of his Adam’s apple was punctuated by a loud click.
“My mouth on you… yeah.”
“Fuck.”
His groan, combined with a quick nod, was all I needed.
I dropped to the floor, tugging down his boxers in the process.
It had been eight long years since I’d been near his cock, and I hadn’t been this close.
My memory didn’t do him justice.
I took my fill, keeping my hands to myself, considering all the things I wanted to do to his weeping length.
At Dylan’s breathy “Cass,” I snapped my attention up, capturing his wild-eyed gaze. His previously heaving chest had nothing on the fast gushes of air punching out of him now.
He didn’t need to say anything else. I read the need in his half-lidded stare. Understood without words how fucking hot for this moment he was.
And then I was on him.
With our gazes locked, and I was sure with yearning dancing in mine, I leaned in and tasted him. As Dylan gasped at the contact, I groaned. The combined sounds were desperate and filled with need.
Taste exploded on my tongue, and I traced his slit, dipped in, and captured the gathered beads.
This time he moaned, loud and fervent, a plea if ever I heard one. With that one sound, urgency swept through me. I wanted this, needed this moment with Dylan more than I needed any-fucking-thing in the world.
Surrendering, I closed my eyes and sucked and lapped, exploring every perfect inch of his length.
Every tremble beneath my fingertips was a reward. Every needy gasp of my name a step closer to my undoing.
When he palmed my cheek, my eyelids snapped open.
With parted lips, Dylan looked wanton. Fucking beautiful.
Lost in his gaze, adrift under his scrutiny, I sucked harder, bobbed my head up and down, refusing to break this connection.
“Fuck, Cass.” Raw emotion captured his plea.
My fingers twitched on his ass cheek, and I dragged him closer, holding my breath and not releasing until his words became nonsense and his hold on me shifted to my hair, where he gripped.
I pulled off with a gasp and watery eyes, my heart thundering, my dick throbbing despite my release a few short minutes ago.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
A smirk tilted my lips when he spoke, and when he wiped a couple of stray tears from my cheeks, he bit his bottom lip.
“So fucking beautiful.”
At his praise, I returned my mouth to his cock, my hand still holding him firmly. Feeling heady and light, feeling so damn right about everything unraveling, I focused on his scent, his taste. Committed both to memory. Hoped this was just the start.
I tightened my grip on his ass, a physical anchor in the maelstrom of need storming through me and threatening to carry me away.
Yielding to my hunger was easy. Consuming him my fucking mission.
His soft pants turned into loud groans, my name the hottest sound spilling from his lips.
My world narrowed around him, to his taste, his eager grunts.
When his voice pitched and strained, turned ragged, and a reverent “Cass” passed his parted lips, both our restraints snapped.
I drank him in and accepted every last drop of cum. With a swallow, he gasped, his body trembling under my touch. A second later, he slumped against me, vulnerable, sated.
His glazed eyes connected with mine, igniting a new ache in me. The small, almost shy tilt of his lips had me guiding him down to the soft mat on the tiled floor.