Chapter Thirty
Ride My Tongue, Darlin’
H e doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around my body and groaning into my mouth. “ Fuck .”
Our mouths battle like a storm, messy and raw and utterly starving .
It’s the kind of kiss that steals your breath and refuses to give it back. The kind of kiss that alters your brain chemistry.
And I know, with just one touch, I’ll never be the same after this.
His hands roam—wild and reverent—gripping my ass over the shirt, using his massive palms to direct me where he wants.
I gasp into him, fingers messily clawing at the soft fabric of his shirt, my mind spinning, heart racing. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want him. Never had this insatiable, unquenchable lust, no matter how reckless and stupid I know it is.
Maybe heartbreak is waiting for me on the other side of this. Maybe I’ll wind up alone in New York, devastated and missing the glimpse of good I finally had. Maybe I’ll regret every second I spent sinking deeper and deeper into Kade Acher.
But right now, I don’t care.
Right now, all I want is to burn with him in my arms, his mouth on mine and our wild, broken souls between us.
“Need this off,” I say, yanking at his shirt desperately. “Need to feel you.”
He pulls back just enough for me to tug it up and over his head, tossing it behind me like it’s on fire.
And God, he’s even more beautiful than I remembered.
Thick chest dusted in dark curls. Carved abs. Deep grooves along his sides that beg to be licked. Bold black tattoos stretch across his right shoulder and down his arm, partially covering the raised scar that starts at his pec and slices across to his shoulder.
The tattoo is one I’ve wondered about, but never allowed myself to get close enough to really look at. But I’m looking now, and all I feel is more.
Black and grayscale, it’s a ripped and worn American flag blended into three dog tags, and even though it’s not obviously sad—I can feel the heartache, the loss, bleeding from it like the wound it now covers.
I trail my fingers across that scar, following it with gentle reverence. Kade swallows hard, his hands finding my hips, tightening with a groan as my touch glides over his skin.
Jaw ticking, throat bobbing, his mouth opens, breath caught on a word, but I press a finger to his lips, silencing him. Eyes locked on his, I lean down and kiss the jagged tissue. He exhales roughly against my fingertip, his grip flexing around me.
So I do it again, and again.
Silently, heart hammering, world spinning, I map the pain he’s carried with my mouth—every single inch of it.
And when I reach the place where the scar vanishes into ink, I press my lips to each of the three dog tags tattooed on his skin.
One for every name. One for every soul—the last one belonging to his dad, the hardest hurt he carries.
Kade groans, low and broken.
“You gotta stop,” he breathes, voice thick, head shaking. “You’re wreckin’ me, baby, and I haven’t even gotten to taste you yet.”
He doesn't give me a chance to respond, just grips me by the throat and tugs me forward. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough to bring us face to face. His thumb glides over my pulse, drawing sweet circles, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Could have fucking killed that asshole. Nearly did when I saw his hands on you.”
“But you stopped him before he could hurt me,” I whisper, brows tight at the honesty of it all. “You stopped him. Defended me. You were there.”
His eyes flick to mine, holding for one painfully soft moment before he rasps, “Always wanna be there.”
My breath catches when his lips replace his hand, mouth dragging along my jaw and throat, beard scratching deliciously as he licks and nips at my skin.
There’s no bruise—I already checked—and Clint was barely standing long enough to leave an ache, but that’s not why Kade’s doing this. He’s doing it for the same reason I kissed his scar, and God, that hits me deep in my chest.
He’s healing a hurt he couldn’t stop, even though he tried.
And I think…
I think he might be healing me, too.
His mouth and lips and teeth don’t stop moving as his other hand slides across the top of my shirt, cupping my breast, fingers finding my nipple blindly, twisting and pinching in a way that makes me needy all over.
I whimper, head tipping back. My pussy grinds down on his cock, every thrust of my hips dragging the thick ridge of him against my pulsing clit.
“Kade,” I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. “ Please .”
He chuckles darkly, biting down on my throat. I cry out, rocking harder and he hums. “My girl likes it a little rough.”
His girl.
Fuck, I like the sound of that too damn much.
He drags his mouth across my chest, sucking one nipple through the shirt, then the other. Every flick of his tongue sends jolts of heat to my core.
I reach for the hem of my shirt, needing to feel him on my skin like I need my next breath, but he stops me, gripping my wrists and dragging them behind my back in a quick, single handed move that leaves me breathless.
“No,” he growls, eyes burning as he leans back and takes me in. “Sight of you when you walked out here in my fuckin’ shirt, perfect tits bouncing with every step...” Biting his lip, he groans low in his throat. “Almost came in my fuckin’ pants.”
He thrusts his hips up, and I moan, trembling all over.
“Can’t wait to see what’s underneath. Been dreaming about it since I met you. But I wanna see you come while wearin’ my shirt first. Can you do that? Be my good girl and come all over my cock just like this—hands behind your back, ridin’ me like I’m yours.”
I whimper at his words and grind down harder, aching for friction, desperate for more.
I want him. All of him. And the thought of him being mine…
Really and truly mine .
It makes something in me crack and cave and burn, all at once.
“Kade,” I breathe, body shaking in his hold. “I need—”
“You’ll get it,” he growls, mouth on my neck again, hands stilling my movements. “But you gotta tell me, baby. You gotta tell me you’re mine.”
I want to.
Fuck, I want to so badly, it hurts. But a few kisses don’t rewrite years of trauma, pain, and fear. They don’t change who I am at my core, as much as I wish they did.
And who I am at my core is someone who desperately wants a family, a forever kind of love, but is petrified to reach out and grab it.
“And if I don’t?” I rasp, holding onto the chaotic swirl of emotions battering around inside me. The fear, the want, the desire, the love . “What if I don’t say it?”
His eyes gleam, thick lips lifting in a cocky smirk. “I’ll leave you aching and dripping and pissed off.”
I scoff, dropping my weight directly on his cock. His smile slips a fraction, fingers digging into my hip so hard, I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow.
But unlike Clint’s depraved, disgusting touch—I want all Kade’s marks.
“I could just go home and get myself off without you. Leave you hard and aching and alone.” I drop my voice to a low, seductive purr, just to mess with him.
“Or you can let me go, and I can ride your big cock just like this, until we both come and make messes of each other. What do you say, sunshine?”
Kade glares at me for a long, painful moment, then releases my hands with a defeated sigh and a shake of his head. “Knew it.”
“Knew what?” I ask, hands snapping to his shoulders to anchor myself as my hips pick up pace, my orgasm so damn close, I can taste it.
His head tips back on the couch, hooded eyes meeting mine, an addictively genuine expression painted across his handsome face. “You’re impossible for me to deny, Georgia Walker. Pretty sure I’d give you anything you want, and I’m in too fuckin’ deep to care.”
My heart skips a beat, then another.
I swallow hard and drop my mouth to hover over his, body shaking so hard, the room spins. “You know what I want?”
His big hands squeeze my thighs, calluses dragging across my skin. “Whatever it is, it’s yours.”
Fuck, a statement like that is dangerous. So dangerous.
“I want you to make me come,” I whisper against his lips. “And then I want you to do it again and again, until I’m sated and exhausted.” My teeth latch onto his lower lip, eyes meeting his as I murmur, “Isn’t that what you dream about?”
Kade snaps.
He bucks up into me, dragging me down to meet his thrusts. His mouth devours mine, tongue claiming, lips bruising. We kiss and dry-fuck like we’re starving, like this is the only way we’ll survive. Like it’s the last time we’ll ever touch.
His hands grip my ass, guiding me as I grind harder, faster.
The pressure builds fast— too fast. My breath comes in pants and every muscle in my body locks up.
“Kade!” I cry out as my orgasm slams into me, stealing my breath. “ Oh, fuck !”
“Another,” he growls, dragging me, practically fucking me through his sweats, controlling my hazy, bliss-filled body like I weigh nothing.
My head shakes, heart hammering, bleary gaze meeting his intense expression. “I c-can’t.”
He sucks my nipple into his mouth and bites down gently as he slows the aching roll between us. I tremble in his grip, fingernails digging into his skin, pussy clenching around nothing like it’s just as desperate for this man as I am.
“You can,” he murmurs, switching to my other nipple as the cool breeze catches on the wet spot left from his mouth. I shiver again. “You can, baby. Another. Exhausted and cum drunk. That’s what I want.”
And like his words and body alone command mine, I come again, burying my moan and teeth into his throat. This time, it’s a slow, delicious roll through my system, but just as intense, just as perfect.
When I finally come down, I sit back on my thighs and look between us. His cock is digging into his sweats, pointing toward the band at the waist where a big wet spot is seeping through the material.
My heart skips a beat, lips lifting in a smug, excited grin.
Men coming in their pants is the hottest thing I’ve ever read about but never been lucky enough to experience firsthand.