Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
SEBA
Andrea:
UUUUUUUUUGHHHHH
the last thing I wanna do is go to this charity bake sale tomorrow I didn’t even bake anything. I CAN’T bake so I bought some cookies and put them in a Tupperware.
at least I get to taste everyone else's desserts
A grin overtakes my face. She said she needed to go to sleep an hour ago and yet here we are, still texting.
Doesn’t surprise me in the slightest LOL
excuse you, sir
I mean, the first time we met you were eating a donut…
a girl needs sustenance. Sugar is the ultimate fuel.
Noted. Get the girl sweets.
smart man
I wish we could escape to the orange grove tonight
The bed creaks as I roll onto my back, imagining her body molded against my side. That night with her was a fever dream of whispers and lazy kisses under the stars. I’ve been desperate to repeat it, but between her curfew and endless obligations, it’s been difficult to get some time alone.
Me too, sweetheart. Me too.
I drop my phone on my chest and stare at the streaks of moonlight on the ceiling until they blur. My eyelids weigh ten tons. They close…
A moan.
My eyes fly open.
He's louder than usual, like the insulation was removed from the walls.
Goddammit.
Careful not to make a sound, I kick off the sheets and creep toward the bathroom. My ankle cracks. I freeze, waiting to be caught. A beat passes. Nothing. Had I imagined—
Another low moan.
My abdomen clenches.
This is stupid. I should put in some earplugs and go to sleep.
But I don’t. I keep going because apparently I'm a fucking masochist.
Cold tile shocks the soles of my feet. The door to his room is half open. I’m drawn toward it like a man spellbound by a siren’s song.
My pulse pounds erratically.
The computer screen bathes the room in blue, highlighting the figure on the mattress. All I can do is stare at the expanse of pale skin glowing like phosphorescence as his sensual, rhythmic movements hypnotize me against my will.
Cade lies on his stomach, one leg hitched on a pillow, every inch of him on display. My gaze travels from his messy hair, between his sharp shoulder blades, down the arch of his spine, past his tapered waist, to the smooth curve of his ass, where he’s spread open.
Long fingers are buried to the knuckle.
Heavy pants bounce off the walls.
Plunging in and out.
A groan.
In and out.
A gasp.
In. And. Out.
He writhes faster against the mattress, his moans choppy and brows knit in borderline anguish. Blood rushes to my cock at the wet sound of his lubed fingers stretching his tight hole.
It’s the devil’s work.
So filthy. So erotic.
Cade sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh fuck.”
Ecstasy blankets his features as a spasm ricochets through him. The pressure at the base of my spine skyrockets. I'm trembling on the verge of insanity.
There’s no stopping it.
Pulse after pulse of cum, hot and sticky, shoot into my boxers as Cade rides out the rest of his orgasm, whimpering and grinding into the sheets. Slowly, he comes down from his high and the haze of what just happened fades.
Bi-colored eyes lock on mine.
Oh god.
Oh no, no, no.
Humiliation spreads like wildfire.
He withdraws his fingers, his loaded stare unrelenting.
Taunting.
“You have a stroke?”
His voice loops a noose around my throat. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
A gloating smirk curves his lips. “If you go through the pearly gates, say hi to Jesus for me.”
My teeth click with how hard my jaw snaps shut.
I’m fleeing before he sees the evidence of my body’s reaction— if he hasn’t already.
I lock the door and shove my desk chair in front of it as if he’ll try breaking in to torture me more.
Shaking, I shed my stained shorts and chuck them in the trash before putting on a clean pair.
But the burn of shame persists.
I drop to my knees at my bedside.
Forgive me of my sins… for I’m too weak to resist.