Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
CADE
Holy fuck, all I want to do is come. And come. And fucking come already.
Reclined against the headboard of Sebastian’s bed with my knees pulled up, I tease two fingers over my hole, dragging them in agonizing circles. Then up my shaft to my tip. The real torture— as if these featherlight touches weren't maddening enough— starts l when I thumb my slit.
My head falls back. “Ohhh fuck, I need to come.”
The door blows open with a bang, revealing a six-foot-something wall of muscle and fury.
I smile. “You’re home.”
Sebastian charges, dark eyes sweeping me. On instinct, I arch like a slut. Those strong hands grasp my face and tilt my head in all directions, searching for something. Next, he grabs my wrists and turns them over.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure you’re alright,” he snaps.
Sebastian cares about me. I think I have heart eyes.
He cuffs my throat. “I told you to text me, not sext me! Are you insane? I was at a church event!” He jerks my chin up with his thumb. My dick leaks. I’m way too keyed up to be manhandled like this.
“You got hard for me at Jesus' house, didn't you?”
His upper lip curls. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Cade. I had to lie to the pastor and leave early because Andrea saw your picture.”
Another gush of precum.
“Did she like it too?”
He releases me with a shove before fisting the jersey and bringing us nose to nose. “You’re not listening. She knows something’s going on here.”
My gaze lingers on his mouth. “What is going on here, Sebastian?”
An actual growl rumbles from his throat. He’s too easy to rile up.
“You. Getting under my skin.”
Biting my lip, I glance between us. “That’s not the only thing I wanna get under.”
His glare is pitch black.
“You’re a fucking heathen.”
“And you wanna come to hell with me,” I purr. His harsh pants roar over the electric rock song playing from my phone, tasting like champagne and mint gum. My lips part, desperate to inhale each of his exhales. I want him. I want him so fucking bad it's disgusting.
His forehead collides with mine. “Fuck.” It’s barely a breath, but it’s laced with defeat.
We can fall together. I silently promise.
The air is so charged it crackles with static. He’s frozen above me as if time paused. Then, so slowly, his fist unfurls, the movement almost imperceptible. My heart rate accelerates as his hand inches down my chest to my stomach, coming to rest right above my cockhead.
“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t run from this.”
He shudders. Shakes his head. Clenches his jaw.
Right when I think he’s done with me, he moves. But he doesn’t go for my dick as I expect. Fingertips press against the seam of my lips, demanding access.
I peer up at him and open my mouth.
A feral gleam reflects back at me.
“My God,” he murmurs in awe as his fingers slide over my tongue. I close my lips around them and suck. His jaw goes slack. My eyelids flutter.
He tentatively thrusts into the back of my throat. I swallow with a moan.
“You like that.”
I nod.
Confidence and curiosity trickle into his stare. He wets his bottom lip, watching in fascination as I soak his fingers.
His thumb strokes my cheek. “Such a filthy mouth.”
My cock throbs. I lift my hips, straining for friction.
A string of saliva slaps my chin as he withdraws his fingers, pushes up the jersey and paints a slick line down my body. I’m not even annoyed that he’s ignoring my cock again because he’s headed where I want him much, much more.
He hooks my leg behind the knee and pushes it to my chest, exposing me further. At the first brush of fingertips against my hole, I buck, trying to notch him in. My ass clenches around nothing. A frustrated grunt catches in my throat.
“Needy thing.” His dark chuckle makes me shiver. He sinks a fingertip into me while pinning my hip down, preventing me from forcing him deeper.
“Seba,” I whine in protest. “Fuck me already.”
He shoots me a glare, then resumes rubbing my rim. It’s lighting me up, but I've been teasing myself for hours. I need him to fill me. Now.
I'm about to beg for just that when something dawns on me.
“You’ve never done this before.”
This time, he doesn’t look up.
Ohhh, this is too good. A wicked grin overtakes my face. “Sebastian Holt, are you a virgin?”
His nostrils flare.
My grin widens. “I’m your first? Like first, first?
” When he still doesn’t look at me, I try to wiggle out of his grip.
He doesn’t budge. “Really? I was convinced you at least fooled around with our girl, Andrea, but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
I mean, I figured you didn’t have much experience, being a Jesus-freak and all—”
“Cade?”
“Huh?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Two fingers plunge into my ass.
My head drops back. “Thank fuck,” I moan, letting him play for a minute before grabbing his hand and angling it—
“There,” I gasp as his thick fingers swipe that sweet spot inside me. He swats my hand off and repeats the movement the way I showed him, but harder. I cry out, clutching his biceps and rocking into each rough thrust.
“Fuck.” He’s breathless. “Look at you. You're perfect.”
The praise shoots straight to my brain, then ricochets down my spine to my dick.
“Another,” I pant. “Give me another.” He adds a third finger. “Yesss.”
“No one gets this ass again.” He growls, twisting his wrist as he drives into me. A lightning bolt of ecstasy strikes. “No one but me, understand?”
His pace speeds up.
My hips stutter. “Don’t stop, I’m so fucking close.”
He stops.
“I said don’t—”
His palm cracks my ass. “Tell me you understand.”
I’m stunned. And about to fucking blow.
“If I say no, will you spank me again?”
“No, but I will for being a brat.”
Another smack on the same spot. “Jesusfuck,” I groan, the sting amplifying the pleasure coursing through me. I roll my hips in silent demand. He doesn't move.
Holding his stare, I clench around his fingers.
“You own me,” I whisper.
His pupils expand. It’s primal— the possessiveness in his eyes.
Suddenly, his fingers disappear. “No, no, no,” I chant. I’m empty and I fucking hate it.
He rears back and bends to where he's got me spread open. Eyes boring into mine, he purses his lips… and spits on my hole.
I gape at him. “Fuuuck.”
Three fingers ram back inside me. My cock jumps. I move to stroke it.
He smacks my hand away, fucking my hole faster, pounding my prostate. “No. You’re gonna come for me just—” Thrust. “Like—” Thrust. “This.”
All I can do is nod and take it. I’m at the edge.
The pressure is blinding; I'm fighting to keep my eyes open— I have to make sure it’s really him.
Here. Bringing me to orgasm without even touching my cock.
Ultimately, the sight of him lost to what he's doing to me shoves me into free fall. Cum erupts from my dick, coating my stomach, my chest, my chin. I’m delirious. Floating. High on oxytocin.
And Sebastian watches, looking positively feral.
I’m still coming in spurts as he braces himself over me, panting just as hard. I want him to feel as good as I do. To float with me. I sneak a hand between us.
He catches my wrist.
“Let me,” I pout.
His cheeks flush. He stares at my sternum. “No need.”
“You came?”
He’s so pink he looks sunburnt. That stupid smile is back on my face. I trace his jaw.
“So hot.”
His brow arches. “You’re joking.”
I shrug, hooking my pinky through the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Mmm, not joking.”
His grip loosens, but he doesn't let go. Our eyes meet. The corner of his lip lifts a fraction.
“I was at a disadvantage.”
“Were you?” I smirk.
He nods. “You’re wearing my jersey.”
“Ahhh, your kryptonite.”
His gaze softens. It's almost sad. “Yeah… you are.”
My breath catches. His head drops to the crook of my neck, nose skimming my pulse. “You’ve got me so fucked up, baby. So. Fucked. Up.”
I'm grinning through the ache in the back of my throat.
Baby.