Chapter 21 #3
I nod my head and flip over, keeping my torso braced against the mattress, ass up.
I love the way the metal frames of his glasses feel when they bump into my bare ass.
Cade’s fingers are timid as he strokes the globes of my ass then gently spreads me.
His tongue traces my hole before it slides inside, making gentle strokes and deep passes.
“Fuck,” I groan, my voice thick and husky.
I know I can’t sustain much of this, and while lasting has never been an issue for me, I think with Cade, it will be.
Because those slutty little glasses knocking into my ass while he readies me with his mouth for his cock?
“Cade,” I ground out, breathless, already sweaty.
“Let’s fuck, baby, because that feels too good.
” I stick my hand out, and upturn my palm so he can see the mess of precum I’ve been stroking out. “Lube up.”
Cade slicks himself with the lube he retrieves from his nightstand, the lube I pour into his waiting palm after flipping onto my back again.
“Lube me, and lube yourself,” I say, and he does, first pressing two fingers inside me, cool liquid stinging my channel.
I suck in a breath, but nod to assure him he can keep going.
He adds more, pressing it inside me, then moves to his cock, strokes, twisting directions, and stroking some more.
He lines us up and I nod, not worried about the immediate discomfort, not worried we’ll both come in the first thirty seconds because we want each other so bad. All I’m concerned with now is showing him how good we are together, and how good he can feel with me.
I nod again. “Cade.” He stares at my slicked, waiting hole, and his shiny cock, bobbing, pink and ready. “Baby, please, fuck me.”
My words drive him forward. The first push in is tight, hot, and absolutely perfect.
We both groan as he sinks deep, bottoming out in the first, slow glide.
I clench around him, my ass gripping every steely inch of his perfect cock.
We hold there for a moment, Cade deep inside of me, our foreheads pressed together, both of us breathing through the overwhelming rush of sensation and emotion.
Then he starts to move—long, deep strokes that drag against my prostate on every thrust. I reach around his body, needing to feel his muscles, his heat.
My nails dig into his back as I throw my legs around him, locking my heels at the small of his spine.
The slap of skin, the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of me, his broken moans—we fill the room in the best ways.
He fucks me harder, angling his hips until the pressure is too intense, I’m too close, and I moan, loud and sharp.
One hand braces beside my head, the other wraps around my leaking cock, stroking me in time with his quickened thrusts.
Sweat slicks our bodies, and Cade fucks me in perfect rhythm, stroking and pounding, his muscled chest glistening, his blonde hair damp with sweat.
I lean up to bite his shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
I draw my knees back further, opening wider, showing him how comfortable I am, how good his cock feels.
“Mine,” I growl without meaning to, the word slipping out raw as he teases my prostate over and over.
“Yes—fuck, yours,” he gasps, hardening even more as I clench tighter around him.
The pleasure coils tighter, almost painful.
He strokes me faster, pounds me harder, both of us chasing the edge.
Cade comes first—back arching, cock pulsing inside me, heat flooding me as his thunderous moans echo through me.
My ass clamps down on him, and the look on his face drags me over with him.
I explode, hot cum rolling over his fist as I spill between us, his name nothing more than a shattered plea. He buries himself deep as I come hard—even harder knowing he came inside me—and he jerks me through pulse after pulse until I’m empty and shaking.
We collapse together, tangled and breathing hard. He stays inside me as long as he can, softening slowly, savoring the closeness. When he finally slips free, he grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom and cleans us both gently. Then I pull him back into my arms, chest to chest, legs intertwined.
“I’m so fucking glad it’s you,” he whispers against my temple, pressing a soft kiss there.
I smile against the top of his head, exhausted and sated, sore and full. His fingers trace idle patterns over my ribs. “Me too, baby.”
We lie there in the quiet aftermath, the weight of everything we’ve shared settling around us. My mind drifts back to his stories—Rhiannon, the woman who didn’t stick. I think of Eli, and how hard I had to work for one single good day between us. How hard it was.
I look at Cade, and think of how different things are with us. I feel the old ache in my own chest ease a little more. He struggled with his label, but I’ve never cared what anyone calls me. None of it matters when the connection is this electric, this deep.
I tighten my arms around him, inhaling the scent of sex and satisfaction that clings to his skin. We sleep for nine hours.