Chapter 9 Combustion #2
Clutching those red locks as he thrust his hips, Cade tested how deep he could go, pushing the limits, seeing how far he could take it before the other man gagged. When Tristan's eyelids flickered closed for a split second, he immediately snapped them open again, remembering what he was told.
"Good boy."
The praise prompted a groan that ratcheted up Cade's arousal exponentially.
He savored every sound, every gag, every hiccup.
He reveled in the way Tristan struggled to draw in breaths through his nose, how tears formed steady rivulets down his pink cheeks.
Drool leaked profanely from the corners of his lips, but his hand remained steady on Cade's thigh, with not so much as a twitch to indicate he would tap out.
It wasn't the best or most skilled blow job ever, but fucking hell, if it wasn't the most erotic.
Watching Tristan fully surrender to him was what ultimately catapulted Cade to the finish line. With his focus unwavering from the lewd sight in front of him, he warned, "I'm close. Swallow it all, yeah?"
Some emotion, whether excitement or relief, flashed in Tristan's expression. A few more strokes toppled Cade over the edge, and he rode a wave of pleasure more intense than he expected.
Drawing in ragged breaths through his nose, Tristan choked down Cade's release. His face flushed a pretty pink around his bruised lips, red nose, and wet eyelashes.
He was breathtaking.
Cade released his grip, allowing Tristan to pop off his dick and cough.
He gave him a chance to catch his breath before he yanked him to his feet by his hair.
Tristan whimpered but allowed himself to be maneuvered.
Another tug to his scalp tilted his face up, then Cade wiped tears and spit from his face with his thumb.
"Look at you. You're a mess."
No response except parting lips and rapid blinks.
Grabbing Tristan's ass with his free hand, Cade dragged his body flush against him and shoved a thigh between his legs while he assaulted his mouth with his tongue and teeth.
He felt Tristan grind against him once, twice, then moan into his mouth.
It took him a second to register the wet warmth against his skin.
He pulled his mouth away and peered down at where their bodies connected, but the other man refused to meet his gaze.
"Look at me."
A heartbeat passed before those golden eyes slid up.
"Did you just come?"
A deep red flush painted Tristan's face.
"You got so close from me fucking your face that tiny bit of friction got you off?"
Seemingly hesitant to answer, Tristan eventually nodded, and Cade inhaled sharply, surprised and unreasonably pleased at the revelation.
"Jesus Christ, Tris. It's like you've just been waiting for someone to come along and use you."
"No," was the raspy reply.
"No? I think it's pretty clear."
"Not someone. You."
The words stoked a dizzying, primal need deep in Cade's gut.
He snaked his hand to the back of Tristan's neck and ravished him with another kiss, feeling an overwhelming compulsion, a potent and intoxicating desire to own and use and plunder.
His mouth explored, moved across Tristan's jaw to his ear, his neck, licking and sucking and biting for as long as he pleased, savoring the salty tang of the skin and the soft growls of pleasure escaping from his partner's throat.
His hands wandered over the contours of Tristan's body, from his jaw to his shoulders, down past his hips and around to his ass, all the while cataloguing the ways he wanted to wreck him, take him apart, make him beg.
The possibilities were endless, and his dick kicked at the ideas his brain conjured.
He finally pulled back, leaving Tristan breathless and disoriented once again. "I'm going to ruin you for everyone else," he promised, meaning every word.
Tristan's knees buckled, but Cade steadied him. God, he loved the reactions he got from this man, so responsive and unguarded.
He was about to take things to the bedroom when his phone buzzed from its spot on the counter. He spewed a string of curses as he jabbed at the buttons to answer on speaker.
"Hey, Annabeth." Cade hoped his voice sounded normal.
Skipping the pleasantries, Annabeth said, "I've got news."
"Have you found my sister?" Tristan rushed to ask.
"Oh, hey Tristan. Why does your voice sound scratchy?"
"Oh, I, um, had something stuck in my throat."
Cade rolled his eyes at the cheeky reply but received only a grin and a wink in response. They were still plastered together, and he forced himself to ignore, for the moment, how his body hummed in response to Tristan's proximity.
"No, I'm sorry, but we haven't found her yet.
I'm still working on this fucking encryption, but I've got news on the warehouse.
Rodriguez and Taylor reviewed all the footage and found the same van visits a couple times a week.
No specific days, but it does always come between nine and midnight.
It pulls into a bay, and the door closes behind it.
Within twenty minutes, it pulls out again. "
"So you think they're transporting the girls?" Cade surmised.
"It's our theory, yes," Annabeth said. "The plan is to surveil the warehouse starting tonight. When the van comes again, we'll follow or track it."
Tristan's expression turned eager. "Maybe that will lead us to my sister."
While he hoped it was true, Cade didn't want to get his hopes up. "Maybe," he answered noncommittally. "Is that it?"
"Yes, that's it for now. I'll contact you with any other developments."
"Thanks, Annabeth."
"Bye, Cade. Bye, Tristan." Annabeth said his name in a normal tone but chirped Tristan's name cheerfully before disconnecting, and Cade experienced a stab of jealousy that Annabeth had taken so quickly to the other man.
But he supposed he had done the same himself; the redhead just had that effect on people.
"We need to find that van. That's probably where they took Natalie, so that's most likely the van they used, right?"
Tristan peered at him with his big golden eyes, as if he could solve all his problems, could fix everything, could make everything right, and Cade's heart stuttered with the realization that he wanted to be that person.
"We don't know, but there's a chance, yes."
"A good chance, right?"
"Don't get your hopes up."
When Tristan's face fell, he wanted to take it back.
"Why not?"
The tangle of emotions Cade experienced made him so uncomfortable that he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He didn't want Tristan's hopes dashed to shreds, didn't want him to suffer. This need to protect and shelter another person felt alien and knocked him off-balance.
"Just don't get ahead of yourself," he said more gruffly than he intended.
"Fine, I get it. I just wish there was something I could do to help."
"That's how it is in this job. You spend a lot of time idling while the tech people search for actionable intel. It's boring, but sometimes there's nothing you can do but wait."
"Doesn’t that frustrate you?"
"Me? No."
"It would drive me crazy. I would want to jump into action, not stand by and do nothing."
"I've noticed," Cade snarked.
"Why do you say it like that? There's nothing wrong with going after what you want," Tristan argued defensively.
"Sometimes. But …" He leaned down to brush his mouth against Tristan's ear and whispered the rest. "Sometimes it's better to let things unfold, to savor the journey. Sometimes it's more satisfying if you have to wait for what you want."
Tristan shivered and melted into him. "Oh, yeah?"
Nipping at an earlobe, he rasped, "Yeah. Maybe I need to teach you some patience."
"How?" Tristan asked, exposing his neck to give Cade's mouth easier access.
Ignoring the inviting gesture, he leaned back and smirked. "You'll have to wait and see. Consider this lesson one."