Chapter 19
JADE
Cayden’s steps are silent on the thick carpet.
My head lies heavy on his shoulder; his familiar scent—that raw, masculine note that belongs only to him—completely intoxicates me.
I cling to his neck, feeling the hard tendons under my fingers and the racing, hard thud of his heart right against my chest.
The double doors of his bedroom fly open.
He carries me in, kicking the door shut with a hard shove—the crash echoes through the room.
Dim light from the streetlamps falls through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but I see only the pulsing vein on his neck, beating fast, just like the pulse between my thighs.
He doesn't throw me onto the bed. Instead, he presses my back against the cool wood paneling next to the door. His large hands grip my hips, sliding under the hem of my blazer, pulling me so tightly against him that I feel every hard inch of his erection through his trousers.
His lips crash onto mine. The kiss tastes of gin, desperation, and pure hunger.
I open to him instantly, letting his tongue slide deep into my mouth, sucking on it, pulling him even closer by his hair.
My fingers tear impatiently at the buttons of his shirt, but he simply rips it from his body.
Then he jerks the blazer from my shoulders and grabs the hem of my silk top, pulling it over my head with one single, jerky motion.
His gaze burns into my naked skin. My breasts rise and fall rapidly; my nipples are already hard, painfully sensitive.
He stares at me as if he wants to devour me.
"Fuck, Jade..." he says, before lowering his head and taking one of my nipples into his mouth.
He sucks hard, biting down slightly, pulling with his teeth—a sharp, sweet pain shoots straight to my core.
I gasp, arching my back, pressing myself against him.
My hands glide over his now-naked torso. "Don't drive me crazy," he growls against my skin.
His hands slide under my skirt, finding the thin lace of my panties.
With one jerk, he rips them down—the fabric gives way with a faint tear.
Then he slides two fingers between my legs, parting my folds, finding me soaking wet.
"So damn wet..." he murmurs, almost reverently, before sliding a finger deep inside me.
I moan loudly, my hips jerking toward him.
He curves his finger, hitting exactly that spot—stars explode behind my lids.
We stumble backward toward the bed. I fall onto the cool sheets; he follows immediately, pinning me down with his weight but catching himself on his forearms. His knee pushes my thighs apart, and I feel the broad tip of his cock at my entrance, pulsing with anticipation.
He kisses his way down my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks.
His tongue paints damp trails over my collarbones, between my breasts.
I reach into his hair, pulling him up, kissing him wildly while my other hand wanders down.
I wrap my fingers around him—God, he’s so hard, so thick, the veins standing out.
I guide him to me, rubbing the head through my wetness, teasing us both.
"Now," I whisper hoarsely. "I want you inside me. Now."
Cayden groans deeply, positions himself, and thrusts.
I let out a low cry, my nails digging into his shoulders.
It burns for a second, then there’s only this overwhelming feeling of completeness.
He stretches me, filling every millimeter, pressing against places no one has touched in eleven years.
He holds still, letting me feel him. His breath comes in hitches at my neck, his arms trembling with restraint.
"Jade..." he moans; my name sounds like a prayer and a curse at once.
Then he moves. First slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulls out almost entirely only to thrust back in deep.
Every stroke hits exactly right, rubbing over that sensitive spot inside me.
I whimper, wrapping my legs around his hips, pulling him deeper.
He gets faster, harder—the bed frame creaks in protest, skin slaps against skin.
The smell of sex, sweat, and gin hangs heavy in the air. I feel every inch of him, how he pulses inside me, how my walls tighten around him. My hands scratch over his back, leaving red welts.
"Come for me," he commands, and his hand slides between us, finding my clitoris, rubbing it in hard, fast circles. It’s too much. The tension explodes. My orgasm hits me like a storm—I spasm around him, screaming his name, shaking uncontrollably.
Wave after wave rolls through me; my muscles milk him rhythmically.
Cayden follows seconds later. He thrusts one last time, burying himself to the hilt, pressing against me.
A deep, animalistic growl vibrates through his body as he comes inside me—hot, hard surges that fill me up.
His muscles tense like steel, then he collapses over me, face buried in the crook of my neck.
Afterward, there is only our gasping breath and the wild hammering of our hearts.
Slowly, he rolls to the side but pulls me to him immediately—my back against his chest, his arm heavy around my waist. His cock lies semi-hard between my thighs, sticky from both of us.
His breath brushes warm against my neck.
I idly stroke his forearm, feeling the fine hairs, the goosebumps my touch triggers. I am sore, satisfied, exhausted—and simultaneously filled with a deceptive lightness.
The consequences are lurking: Parker is sleeping only three doors away. Tomorrow, I’ll have to look him in the eye. And the man I just devoured body and soul. The father of my son, who knows nothing about it.
But for now... for now, I cling to his warmth. His fingers trace idle circles on my belly, wandering lower, gently brushing over my still-sensitive center. I shudder, pressing my thighs together—a low, satisfied sigh escapes me.
I close my eyes. The freefall is over. The impact comes tomorrow. But in this moment... in this moment, I simply belong to him.