Chapter 25
twenty-five
Georgia
I feel drunk by the time we reach the hotel room. And alcohol is the least of it. It’s Cash, this gorgeous dress, the glamour of the evening, Cash, the incredible food, Cash, the excitement of the awards ceremony, and, oh right, Cash.
He’s magical. He makes me feel safe with one touch, beautiful with one look, and can turn me from a committed wallflower into a woman who basks in being stared at—as long as they’re staring because he’s at my side.
Life hasn’t given me many unforgettable nights, and Cash has just handed me one to beat them all.
As soon as he kicks off his shoes and socks at the door, I pounce on him.
“You know how proud I am of you?” I ask, brushing my lips against his and undoing his shirt buttons top to bottom. I want him naked, want to see and touch and taste all the parts of him that no one else in that breathtaking ballroom tonight will ever have access to.
“Tell me. I want to hear exactly how proud you are of me.”
“So proud I don’t even recognize the feeling.
Proud of how hard you’ve worked and how talented you are.
Proud you belong to me.” As I tug at his shirt, he reaches up to remove his bow tie, but I stop him.
“Leave it.” Flipping his collar up, I pull his shirt away, leaving the bow tie that makes him look like a classic film star.
“You know exactly what words get me hard, don’t you?”
I graze his crotch with my fingertips, the feel of his hardness making my insides tighten. “I do now.”
He lets me remove his pants but holds up a finger when I reach for the zipper of my dress. “I want you in this beautiful dress a little longer. Pretty sure the next gown you wear for me will be white, so let’s enjoy.”
Swooning, I watch as he crouches and takes hold of my left ankle, carefully unbuckling my shoe strap and sliding my foot free like I’m a fine, delicate object.
When my shoes are off, he oh so slowly lifts the hem of my dress.
Kissing a path up my shins, knees, and thighs, he raises the shimmery fabric past my hips and closes my fingers around it to hold it up.
Even in my state of half undress, I feel like a princess under his gaze.
Joy and anticipation spill over me as Cash lifts me off the ground, wraps my legs around his waist, and carries me across the carpeted room.
Dropping into the armchair by the window, he settles me in his lap, spreading my knees to grace his rigid cock with the heat trapped between my thighs.
I cover him with my body, dropping frenzied, adoring kisses all over his face and shoulders.
I could straight up drink him, he’s so delicious, and I’m so in love.
“What’s this, a race to the finish line?”
“No, I just love you. Can’t get enough of you.”
“You’re not going to get much of me if you keep grinding against my dick like that,” he says, making me grind harder. “Let me at you before I come in my underwear.”
I ease up, letting him take over. He kisses my neck with slow, intense licks that let me savor his slick tongue and the magic it wields.
Meanwhile, he finds the zipper at the side of my dress and splits it open.
My breasts free, he inclines his head and sucks one nipple into his mouth as I pull a sharp breath through my teeth.
“You know what I love best about your body?” He straightens up and cradles my face in his hands. “The way it tells me what it likes. How when I kiss you just right, you make those sexy little sounds like you can’t help it. That when I touch you where you want it, your body shudders.”
“My body and I met our match when we met you.”
“But you know what I want?”
My eyes close as he draws his thumbs along my jawline, even that innocent touch making my nipples bead and my belly swirl. “Tell me. Anything.”
“I want to hear you ask for what you want. With words. I want you to tell me what you like.”
“I’ve never been good with words.”
“Believe me, beautiful, they don’t have to be poetic. Just tell me what you want me to do to you in whatever words you want to use.”
“You already do what I want you to do,” I say lazily as my hips shift against his.
“No copping out. There’s gotta be things your body wants that I’ve never done to you.”
I peel my lust-heavy eyelids open. “I’m not that experienced, Cash. I’ve had one boyfriend, and the things we did were…not exciting. I don’t even know what I like.”
“Yes you do.” He smiles like he’s caught me in a lie. “You must fantasize sometimes.”
“You knew the first time you put your hands on me that I do.” Warmth spreads through me at the memory.
“Do you masturbate?”
Why am I suddenly shy? The man’s had his tongue inside my pussy, yet I can’t bring myself to nod.
“Nothing you say could make me less attracted to you, Georgia. No matter how you answer.”
“Yes,” I admit.
“So what do you fantasize about when you touch yourself?”
“You.”
“Nice try, but that was a foregone conclusion the night we met, honey. You and every other red-blooded female.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling.
“Now give me a better answer.”
Stalling, I bite my lip, uncertain.
“Know what? I hate making you uncomfortable, but the way your shy side’s warring with your horny side right now is hot as hell.”
My shoulders shake with my laugh. “Stop.”
Cash studies me, looking thoughtful. “How about this: What did you wish you were doing when you and your boyfriend were doing those not-exciting things you did together?”
Something sparks inside me, lit by the idea of him washing my body clean of memories of other men. I swallow, trying to find my voice.
“There’s something, isn’t there?” His eyes are aglow.
“Sort of.”
“Describe it.”
“There’s not one specific thing I want to act out. But sometimes I get tired of being…sweet. I want to be able to get a little weird without you acting shocked.”
He holds up his hands in innocence. “Baby, if you break out an electric dog collar, I swear to god I will not so much as crack a smile. Lay it on me.”
I swat him. “Not like that.”
“Then what?” He waits patiently, and whatever he might be thinking or hoping, his face doesn’t show it. This is my safe space to say what I want.
“I’m not fragile, and maybe I get tired of being treated like I am.”
The neutral expression fades, replaced by his pinched brow. “Do I do that?”
“You do it in the best way.” Soft skin kisses my palms as I run them over his chest. “And I love it. But you asked me what I want, and tonight I want it rough.”
“Oof,” he groans, sliding his hands up my body. “Tell me what that would look like.”
I reach between my legs and fist his cock, the way he weakens at my words already washing away my shyness. “So many possibilities. Pulling my hair, pinching my nipples, slapping my ass. You’re the big, strong football player. You take control. Do something to me, and we’ll see if I like it.”
“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs like he doesn’t have the strength to speak any louder.
I lean down and press my breasts to him, his body heat like a warm blanket. “Ready?”
“Do I ask permission first?”
“Please don’t. You’ll know when I want you to stop.”
He catches my face in his hands and kisses me soft and slow; sweet. Like a parting gift. Like he’s reminding me this is the last sweet thing he’ll give me between now and when he makes me come. “I love you,” he whispers when he draws away.
“And I love you.”
He bows his head. Then inhales a breath that inflates his chest and draws a shadow over his sparkling eyes. “Now take off your dress and get on the floor.”
The little pinprick of shock at his harsh order gives way to a flood of lust. Heart dancing in my chest, I climb off his lap, step out of my dress, and drop to the ground. Cash strides to the bathroom and reappears with a towel, which he drops at my knees.
“Spread it,” he orders. We lock eyes, and heat pumps inside me at his words.
I spread the towel on the carpet near the foot of the bed and then spread myself: on all fours, thighs open, only a white thong covering me.
He circles me slowly, taking me in. My body responds like it’s his hands and not his eyes all over me, goose bumps rising on my skin and my pussy growing damp.
He grabs a pillow off the bed and tosses it onto the floor near my hands. Behind me, he pushes his foot between my knees, making me spread wider. Cool air licks my pussy where the flimsy fabric no longer covers.
“Nice,” he says, his voice like gravel.
I watch over my shoulder as he steps out of his boxer briefs and shows off his cock.
He knows what the sight of it does to me: hunger, longing, and a little dizziness at the pleasure he hasn’t yet delivered.
The contrast of his powerful, naked body with just that sleek, glamorous bow tie still around his neck makes me stare.
When he decides I’ve had enough, he drops to his knees, and before he’s even touched me, my body seizes up in anticipation.
The fabric of my underwear snaps against my ass when he tugs it aside and lets it go.
His thumbs part me, and my eyes roll back when his tongue slides inside.
Whatever he finds there—my scent, my taste—he groans with his face in my flesh, setting off a shiver within me.
“Yeah, darling.” He gives a little laugh. “You’re already wet enough to take me.”
A thread of fear—the good kind—makes my heartbeat thrum in my ears. “Then let me take you.”