Chapter Fourteen #2
“Fuck,” I breathe, my forehead dropping briefly to her chest as I fight for control.
“You feel that? That’s how bad I want you.
” I lift my head, meeting her eyes. “I’ve needed you since the first time I saw you.
Standing there in that goddamn giraffe onesie like you weren’t about to turn my entire world upside down. ”
Her lips curve, even now, even here.
God, this woman.
“Touch me, Kaden,” she murmurs, and the way she says my name, low, breathy, like it’s something she’s been keeping just for me, wrecks whatever was left of my restraint.
I pull back with a smirk. “Stay still,” I warn, and then I crash my mouth into hers before she can argue.
The kiss is hungry and relentless, teeth and tongue and the soft desperate sounds she tries to swallow. I feel her body tremble against mine as she finally breaks, a gasped breath against my lips before she sags into me, and something satisfied and savage unfurls in my chest.
I strip my shirt off quickly while she writhes with want, tossing it somewhere behind me, and then her hands are on me, greedy, impatient, working my belt with the kind of urgency she usually reserves for onstage. Like she can’t stand another second between now and what comes next.
I let her, I watch her, and when I finally step out of my jeans and briefs, she freezes.
Her eyes drop, and stay there.
The silence stretches.
I chuckle, the sound dragged low from somewhere deep in my chest, and I lift her chin with my thumb until her eyes meet mine again. She’s flushed all the way to her chest, her lips parted, looking at me like she’s recalculating something fundamental.
“Your pleasure is mine,” I tell her quietly, holding her gaze. “And I’m about to take what’s owed to me.”
Her eyes soften even as her body tightens with anticipation. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. She just wraps herself around me, her arms curling over my shoulders, her legs rising to hook around my waist, and I grip her thighs, lift her, and walk her back until she’s where I want her.
The moment I thrust inside her, it steals the air from both of us.
We go completely still.
The world narrows down to this. To her. To the devastating, perfect tightness of her around me.
“Fuck,” I gasp. “So tight.” My jaw locks. “Jesus, Effa—”
“Move,” she breathes. “Kaden, please…”
I set the pace immediately, hard, fast, and unrelenting.
Every thrust a claim, every stroke a declaration, because she needs to understand what this is.
What we are. Her nails rake down my shoulders and I welcome it, drive her harder for it, tilting my hips to hit the angle that drags a broken moan from her throat.
“Say my name,” I demand, my voice rough against her ear.
“Kaden,” she cries.
That’s it.
That’s the sound I needed.
I drive her higher, faster, my thumb finding her clit as I feel her begin to tighten around me.
The moment I make contact she jolts, a sharp cry escaping her that she tries to muffle against my shoulder.
I don’t let her. I pull back enough to see her face, because I want to watch every second of this. I want to see exactly what I do to her.
“Don’t hide from me,” I growl. “Let me hear you.”
She whimpers, her hips rolling to meet each thrust, chasing the pressure of my thumb as I work slow, deliberate circles against her.
Her thighs clamp around me, her whole body coiling tighter, and I can feel it, the way she’s winding up, climbing, getting closer to the edge she’s desperate to fall over.
I slow down.
She makes a sound that’s half moan, half outrage, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to sting.
“Kaden,” His name comes out wrecked, pleading.
“I know.” I smirk against her cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“Don’t you dare stop!”
I pull back almost entirely, just the tip, holding there, my thumb stilling. She trembles violently, her breath sawing in and out, her body shaking with the effort of holding herself at that precipice.
“Kaden.”
“Say it.”
“You.” The word tears out of her, raw and unguarded. “I want you. All of you. Please!”
That’s enough.
More than enough.
I drive back into her in one hard stroke and she cries out, loud and unashamed, her back arching as I set the pace again, harder than before, deeper, relentless.
My thumb resumes its rhythm against her clit, matching every thrust, and I watch her face the entire time.
Watch the flush crawl up her chest and neck.
Watch her lips part around sounds she can’t contain.
Watch her eyes glaze and her brow crease with the concentrated, desperate effort of chasing what I’m giving her.
She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.
My free hand slides up her sternum, slow and deliberate, until my palm wraps around her throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. Just enough pressure to feel her pulse hammering against my fingers, rapid, wild and entirely because of me.
Her eyes snap to mine.
Something electric moves through them, not fear, something darker and more honest than that.
Want.
“Good girl,” I murmur, my grip tightening fractionally, and her whole body shudders in response, clenching around me so hard I nearly lose my rhythm.
Jesus.
“You like that,” I say. It isn’t a question.
She can’t speak. She just holds my gaze, pupils blown so wide there’s almost nothing left of the green, her lips parted, her pulse going absolutely frantic beneath my palm.
The combination of my thumb on her clit, my cock driving into her, and my hand at her throat has completely dismantled her, and the sight of it, of her, like this, completely undone and trusting me with every single piece of it, hits me somewhere deep and irreversible.
“That’s it,” I breathe, my lips dropping to her ear. “Right there. Stay with me.”
“I can’t… I’m going to… Kaden, I—”
I tighten my grip at her throat just slightly, tipping her chin up, holding her eyes locked on mine. “I’ve got you,” I murmur. “Let go.”
Her head drops back against my hand. Her thighs lock around me.
Every muscle in her body pulls taut like a wire stretched to its absolute limit, and then she convulses, coming apart with my name fracturing on her lips, clenching around my cock in wave after wave, and it drags me right over the edge with her.
I bury myself deep and unload with a groan that tears out of me, rocking into her through it, slow and shaking, until there’s nothing left. Not a single drop. When it’s over, we’re both trembling with foreheads pressed together. Breath coming hard and uneven, the only sound in the room.
Her fingers are still tangled in my hair.
Mine are still gripping her like I haven’t quite finished convincing myself she’s real.
She clenches around me, aftershock, or maybe mischief, with Effa it’s always hard to tell—and I chuckle weakly, the sound scraped raw.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “You’re trying to kill me.”
She laughs, quiet and breathless, and then she kisses me, soft, this time unhurried, before she pulls back with a glint in her eye and shoves lightly against my chest. The dynamic shifts in an instant, her chin lifting, her smile tilting into something dangerous, and I feel my cock take notice despite everything.
This woman.
But then the thought hits.
Lands like something cold and concrete right in the center of my chest.
We just fucked without protection.
I pull back slightly, staring at her. Her eyes are still heavy, her lips still kiss-swollen, and she looks so beautiful it almost overrides the ice spreading through my gut.
Almost.
What the fuck was I thinking.