30. Meet the Cat
30
Meet the Cat
There was something infinitely sexy about a man who knew how to treat a feline.
By the time I got to my room, Victor had coaxed Jinx to the edge of the bed. My cat stretched to sniff his proffered hand.
It wasn’t the same one he’d had inside of me. The faint smell of lemony alcohol and the lack of residue on his mouth and fingers meant he probably used one of the wet wipes from my dresser to clean up before official introductions.
Victor looked like a fucking snack with his hair mussed and clothes undone. Somehow, I doubted that would impress my cat.
Jinx sniffed, then stepped closer with his tail raised and crooked.
I held my breath. Usually, he tolerated my guests with mild indifference.
But Jinx took another sniff, gave Victor a wide-eyed once-over, then rubbed his cheek on my Spider-Man's hand.
“Hello,” Victor said warmly, and petted his head.
I bit my lip to contain a squeal. My two guys were getting along. Jinx trusted him. That meant I could too, right?
“I see you’ve met Jinx,” I said, strolling behind Victor to discreetly toss my shorts and undies into the hamper.
He smoothed the black fur. “He’s been kind enough to share his space with me.”
“Aren’t we lucky?” I grinned and flopped onto the bed.
Jinx started and stared.
“What?” I tilted my head. Was I trying too hard? Or did he prefer I gave them a minute to get acquainted? I sighed and scratched his back to appease him. “Sorry to disturb your sanctum. Do you think we could have the room for a bit?”
Jinx purred low and slid between our hands. His silky tail flicked against my legs as he hopped down from the bed, a subtle, 'don’t fuck this up, Kat.' He padded out of the room, pausing to give me a long look that said, 'I better get a treat for this.'
He would. I needed my treats, first.
Victor chuckled. “He acquiesced to your request.”
“He’s very intelligent. And judgmental. But he likes you, which is a big deal.” I rubbed my thighs together and tugged the bottom of his belt loops. “I like you too.”
“Oh?” He smirked. As if it wasn’t obvious.
I nodded, unable to trust my orgasm-addled brain to stop the ‘L-word’ from tumbling out my lips.
“I like you…two,” he said, though he could’ve meant ‘too.’
I scooted to the edge of the mattress, spread my legs on either side of him, then splayed open his pants.
“Kat.” His eyes flashed.
“I really like you,” I said, taking his hot, thick member in hand. Did he understand? Could he feel how much I wanted to be with him? I pressed the flat of my tongue just under his shaft.
“Oh, Kat,” he whispered, rubbing the nape of my neck.
I wanted to purr. Or tell him I loved him.
Instead, I sucked his dick.
He shuddered and groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, though he fought valiantly to watch me rub, tug, and suck him to oblivion.
I savored the tang of salt at his tip. His breathless pants and whispered praises egged me on, my name his heathen chant. I memorized the shape of him, prodding each vein with my tongue until he grasped my hair and pulled lightly. An obscene string of spit connected my mouth to his shaft.
“I want to fuck you on your back,” he said, his voice gravel and sex.
I licked my lips and the string snapped. “Do it,” I said.
I pulled my dress over my head as I tumbled onto the bed. Victor yanked off his shirt and his vest in one hypnotizing movement. A demigod of sin stood before me. Then, he knelt, his pants splayed into an obscene ‘V’ low enough to free his dripping cock.
I could barely hear the squeak of the mattress over my own pounding heartbeat. I gripped the sheets in exhilaration.
This was it.
The moment the sexy predator closed in. His bare shoulders rippled with intent as he crawled across the bed. Dark eyes glimmered under the ragged swoop of his bangs and his small, silver cross swung like a pendulum counting down the seconds I had left. He was coming for me. He’d come inside of me, actually, and I needed it.
Oh, god, I needed it.
He smirked, then nipped my neck.
Shrieking, I curled my leg around his hip. “Why are you still wearing your pants?”
“I can’t wait another second. And I needed this,” he said, procuring a small square packet from his pocket.
“I’ll take care of it.” I tore open the condom, then rolled it onto him, giving him more time to kiss and play. “Okay,” I whispered when he was all set.
He glanced longingly at my breasts, then honed in on my face, his bangs curtaining off the rest of the world in a fringe of sweaty perfection. “Anything you want…or don’t want—”
“I want,” I said, cupping his face. “I want.”
We kissed, a pure, deep, soulful thing; then, he pushed into me.
I shuddered at the delicious pressure and curled my toes into his calf. For a few seconds, he used shallow thrusts and soft kisses to let my body stretch. But I was ready; I took him in. I palmed his shoulders and rocked my hips to urge him deeper.
He kissed me and stayed close, increasing his pace. Something about the friction of his pants and the slap of our skin sizzled my nerve endings. I’d already come once; I was still sensitive. He tensed and moaned against my neck. I edged my nails into his skin, claiming more of him. His bite. His blood. He kissed me hard and reached down to rub my clit. Face to face, and flesh to flesh, my fantasy bloomed into a glorious reality.
Victor and I, together.
I tightened around his shaft.
He slammed into me to the hilt and grunted. It was like our skins couldn’t contain ourselves. We had to burst, our very essence pouring into the other. We held on tight through our shuddering orgasms.
A few seconds later, the intense pleasure evened out to a dull, triumphant roar.
This was richer than any simple sin. It was carnal decadence. Intimate bliss.
I brushed his sweaty bangs back and cupped that sharp jaw of his. He melted into my touch. My sweet Spider-Man.
We kissed. It was soft, unlike his dick. His happy little slow-blink might as well have branded my soul.
I’d pictured us having sex plenty of times, but as our noses brushed, I realized with an aching tenderness that what I’d really wanted, and what I’d gotten, was to make love with him.