Chapter Thirty Six
Drip by Drip
H er kiss is sweet and dangerous. Sparkling cider and wildflower honey with a bite of something that’s all Georgia.
I’m already drowning in it, in her . In the way her hips rock against mine like she doesn’t give a single damn about taking her time or the way she’s quickly destroying my will to wait.
My hands roam without restraint, gripping her ass, kneading the soft swell of it through those tight leggings I plan to ruin.
The music swirls around us—something slow, sultry, female. Don’t know the artist. Only recognized like a third of the songs I stole from her phone while she was sleeping. Tossed them all into a folder and named it Freckles , like a lovesick dumbass, just for tonight.
Because I wanted to make her smile.
Wanted to make her mine.
She moans against my mouth, warm, wet center grinding down harder. “Fuck, Kade…”
That sound—my name said like that ? Desperate and wrecked and right on the edge of breaking?
Christ, I could come just from hearing it.
But I won’t. Not yet.
Not until she’s come apart as many times as it takes for her needy cunt to feel satisfied. Not until my tongue has memorized the taste of her again, and my fingers have wrung every whimper and gasp from her pretty mouth.
I grab the back of her neck, twisting my fingers into her hair and tilting her head back, forcing her eyes to mine.
“You gonna let me have you tonight, freckles?” I rasp, breath sawing in and out of my lungs. “Let me touch every fuckin’ inch of you? Worship that perfect body like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered? Gonna let me make you come on my fingers and tongue?”
Her lips part and she nods.
But I don’t want her nod, I want her voice.
“Say it.”
“ Yesss,” she hisses.
I groan, tugging harder on her hair, devouring the moan that slips free with another kiss.
“And what about my cock, baby?” I breathe against her lips. “Gonna let me make you come on that, too?”
“God, yes,” she chokes out, voice shaking. “I want all of it. I want you.”
I flip us before she can blink—one hard roll of my hips and I’m on top of her, thighs bracketing her sides, chest rising and falling like I’ve run miles.
Her breath whooshes out in a soft gasp, eyes wide, lips red and kiss-bruised. I trail my finger over the pink marks my beard left across her jaw and throat, shuddering in approval.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
Still fully clothed in my old Ranger sweatshirt and leggings, hair messy and cheeks flushed, she’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
But I want more.
My hands find the hem of the sweatshirt and I drag it slowly up her body, knuckles grazing her sides, watching goosebumps bloom in my wake. She shivers, and I know it has nothing to do with the cold, because I feel it too.
It’s this.
It’s us.
She lifts her arms and lets me peel it over her head, baring her completely. No bra or undershirt. Just soft, freckled skin and two palm sized breasts tipped in tight, flushed little nipples already begging for my attention.
My cock throbs to the point of pain.
“No bra?” I murmur, pinching a rose-tipped bud. She moans, but doesn’t respond, so I twist it the way she likes. “Answer me or I’ll stop, baby.”
Her back arches, head whipping back and forth. “Hate bras.”
Me. Fuckin’. Too.
Shifting, I quickly work her boots and socks off then grip the waist of her leggings and panties, sliding them both down her legs in a slow, maddening tug.
When she’s fully naked, I sit back on my heels, boots digging into the blankets as I take her in.
She’s spread out like a feast—wild red hair fanned across a pillow, breasts heaving with every rough breath. Her skin is covered in goosebumps, but her thighs are parted, showing me everything and hiding nothing.
But it’s the way she stares up at me, body lax and trusting, that flays me wide open for.
I’m one lucky bastard.
“Christ, Georgia,” I whisper, hands gripping her calves. “You’re incredible.”
She blushes hard, biting her lip. “You saw me naked five days ago.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not still obsessed.”
“I wanna see you too.” She yanks at my shirt. “Please, Kade.”
My swallow is rough. The sound of her begging already nearly snaps my patience, but I’ll be damned if I rush this. I strip down without finesse yet the whimpers that slip free from her throat make it sound like I’m putting on a damn show, and fuck if that doesn’t inflate my ego.
And then I’m back on my knees, hand wrapped around my leaking cock, letting her look her fill.
“You…” she breathes, brows furrowed. Her eyes trail over my body, pausing on the scars and tattoos, my chest and abs, before settling on my cock. “You’re perfect.” She flicks her gaze to mine, and fuck if she doesn’t look seconds from pouncing. “So perfect.”
Groaning, I drop my mouth to hers, kissing her with all I’ve got. She thrusts her hips up, kitten-like nails digging into my hips as she tries to pull me down, but I flex my muscles, resisting.
Every part of me knows that if I let her win, if I close the distance between my bare cock and her bare, wet pussy, I’ll be sliding home from one breath to the next.
And I’m not ready for that.
It takes work, but I pull my mouth away, putting enough distance between us to trace my fingers down her sternum, over her belly, across the curve of her hips. She bows toward me, needy and impatient, jerking beneath my hands.
“You cold, baby?”
“No.”
“Then what’s got you shakin’ so hard?”
“You,” she breathes. “Why aren’t you fucking me yet?”
A laugh breaks free, and I shake my head at her adorable impatience.
“Because, freckles. Wanna see if I can make you lose your mind for me. Can you handle that?”
Her little hand darts out and wraps around my cock, tugging hard and circling like she already knows exactly what I like.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, licking her lips when I groan hard. “Can you?”
My eyes drop to where she’s jacking me off and my hips thrust into her grip. Ecstasy shoots down my spine, and I almost say fuck it, but I can’t. So much I wanna do with the woman. So much I wanna taste and touch and explore.
Precum leaks from my tip, and with great pain and effort, I drag her hand away. “Wait your turn, Georgia. I wanna play with you first.”
Before she can complain, I grab the honey I set aside earlier. It’s open, wooden dipper still coated and sticky.
“If by lose my mind, you meant pause for a snack, I’m gonna get myself off,” she says with a huff, small hands gliding down her body in a way that’s too fuckin’ distracting.
“Not yet.” I click my tongue, shoving her hands aside, then lift the honey stick above her chest. “You’re the only thing I want more than sleep, whiskey, or breathing. And tonight, I’m gonna prove it.” I tip the stick, letting the honey fall. “ Drip by fucking drip .”
It’s slow and sticky, trailing down the curve of her breast like sunlight made liquid. Her back arches as the liquid hits her nipple. She gasps, spine bowing, and the sight, the sound, goes straight to my throbbing cock.
I circle the honey dipper around the peak, watching her body react. Her skin tightens, nipples hardening further as the honey glistens in the low light.
“That’s…” she chokes out, eyes wide. “That’s so hot.”
I laugh, low and dark, and lean in—licking the trail between her breasts, tasting her and honey and heaven all at once.
She moans.
God help me, that sound unravels something in me.
Still gripping the honey stick, I drag it across the other nipple, watching her twitch and squirm. Then down. Past her ribs. Along the dip of her belly. Across her hips.
She’s panting now, breath shallow and fast.
Slowly, I reach the place I’ve been starving for since the second she showed up at my door. The place I spent hours buried in the other night, and still didn’t get enough of.
Her thighs part automatically, cunt already glistening, neatly trimmed red curls damp where she’s been aching for me. I reach for the honey again, dip and swirl, and let it fall between her legs in one slow, decadent ribbon.
She gasps.
I groan.
And then I bring that stick down and coat her pussy with it—trailing it across her folds, circling her clit, dragging it through the mess she’s already made like I’m painting her in gold.
“That’s so unsanitary,” she murmurs, but it ends with a cry of pleasure as I tease her entrance with it. “Don’t you d-dare b-bring that home with u-us.”
“You think I’d let a single person touch or eat a damn thing that’s been near this cunt?” I click my tongue, shaking my head as my free hand cups her jaw, holding her gaze. “All of you is mine, baby. And I’m a greedy, possessive bastard.”
With her eyes locked on me, I bring the dowel up and suck it into my mouth like it’s my favorite fuckin’ lollipop, moaning around the sweet, heady taste. I drag my tongue over the rounded grooves, removing all the honey, and coating it in saliva.
“Wh–what are you d-doing?” she stumbles around the words, meadow eyes wide, body shaking hard. “Kade…”
And then I slip it inside her, curving it up like a sex-toy, a single word on my lips, “ Mine .”
Georgia's back arches off the truck bed with a sharp cry, hands tangling in the thick blankets beneath her. “Oh… oh shit! ”
I fuck her with the honey stick, using the small, rounded part to graze against her G-spot slowly as I tease her, licking the honey from her body. It’s warmed against her skin and melted down her ribs, but I chase it, not leaving a single, sweet drop.
With every flick of my tongue and shift of my hand, her cries grow louder, her fingers more restless—clawing at my skin, my hair, my shoulders.
She’s frantic and wild, and perfect.
“I love you like this,” I murmur, sucking her nipple between my teeth and biting down. “Unrestrained. Uncaring and free.”
She inhales sharply, stilling for a beat, but relaxes again when I move to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. By the time I’ve worked my way down her body, she’s begging relentlessly, and practically fuckin’ feral.