Chapter 14 #2
Kane’s expression shifted. The playfulness disappeared, replaced by something darker. More intense. “Charlotte.”
“I won.” I kept my voice light, teasing. “Fair’s fair. Unless you’re backing out and reneging on a challenge?”
He held my gaze for a long moment, a silent battle of wills that made the air between us hum with temptation. Then slowly, deliberately, Kane lowered himself to his knees.
Oh, fuck. The sight of him like that—this powerful, dominant man kneeling on the floor because I’d asked him to—sent a rush of heat flooding through me. My thighs clenched involuntarily.
He crawled toward me. Slow and predatory. His eyes never left mine, and there was something in them that made my breath catch. Hunger, yes. But also a promise. Definitely a warning, too.
You might be in control now , that look said. But you won’t be for long .
He stopped at my feet, still on his knees, and looked up at me. Even in this position, there was nothing submissive about him. He was coiled tension and barely leashed desire, waiting for his moment to strike.
“I didn’t know you had domme tendencies,” he said, his voice a low rumble of sound in the quiet room.
“I don’t, really.” I reached out and traced my fingers along his jaw, feeling the muscle flex beneath my touch. “But it’s fun to pretend and get to boss you around a little.”
“Mmm.” His hands came up to rest on my knees, warm and heavy. “You’ve had your fun. But if you want this—” his thumbs traced slow circles on my bare inner thighs, exposed by the workout shorts I was wearing “—then you’re going to do as I say.”
The power shifted between us like a physical thing. I felt it in the sudden weakness of my limbs, the way my body softened and opened at his commanding tone. This was who Kane really was, and who I needed him to be.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered in a low, firm tone. “And your bra.”
My fingers trembled slightly as I obeyed, pulling the cotton over my head and reaching back to unclasp my bra. I let both garments fall to the couch beside me, baring myself to his gaze.
Kane’s eyes dropped to my full, heavy breasts, and I watched his expression darken with lust. My nipples tightened under his stare, peaking into hard points.
I thought about what he’d done to them at the club, how he’d worked me over with a feather, the e-stim machine, and his mouth and fingers until I’d shattered apart, coming harder than I ever had in my life.
“Fuck,” he breathed, almost reverently. Then his hands were on my hips, lifting me slightly as he hooked his fingers into my cotton shorts and panties and dragged them down and off in one smooth motion. He tossed them aside carelessly, leaving me completely naked.
His eyes traveled over me—slow, thorough, possessive. I could see the need written on his face, watched the way his chest rose and fell faster, and the thick bulge straining against his jeans.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded, his voice rough. “Show me how wet that slutty pussy is for me.”
The crude words should have made me blush. Instead, they sent a bolt of pure arousal straight to my core. These words, this dynamic, it was ours. Something that only existed between the two of us, private and consuming.
I spread my legs wide, letting him see everything.
Kane groaned, low and guttural. “Christ. You’re already drenched.”
Before I could respond, his hands were hooking behind my knees, dragging my hips forward until my ass was barely on the edge of the cushion. He draped my legs over his shoulders and pressed his mouth to my inner thigh, kissing his way upward with agonizing slowness.
I squirmed, trying to angle my hips toward his mouth. He was so close. I could feel his breath against my pussy, hot and teasing. But he kept kissing everywhere except where I needed him.
“Something you want, sweetheart?” His voice was pure sin against my skin.
My hands gripped the couch cushions at my sides. “You know what I want.”
“Tell me.” He bit down on my inner thigh—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make me gasp.
“I want your mouth on me.”
He looked up at me, smirking, then pressed a chaste kiss to my hip. “Here?” Another kiss, this time to my stomach. “Or here?”
“Kane.” His name came out half-plea, half-warning.
“Say it properly.” His breath ghosted over my aching center. “Tell me exactly where you want my mouth.”
“I want your mouth on my pussy.” The words came out steady despite the desperation clawing at me. “I want you to lick me until I come on your face.”
His eyes flared with heat. “Good girl.”
Then his mouth was on me, and I stopped thinking entirely.
I moaned at the first stroke of his tongue—long and slow, parting my folds and dragging through my sensitive flesh.
He ate me like he had all the time in the world, savoring every taste, every sound I made.
My hips rolled against his face, chasing the sensation, and I threaded my fingers through his hair to hold him in place.
He let me guide him for a few moments, let me grind against his mouth and take what I needed. Then his hands clamped around my wrists, pinning them to my sides as he pulled back.
“No,” I whimpered.
“Are you going to behave?” His lips were slick, his eyes dark and commanding. “Keep your hands where I put them, and I’ll give you what you need. Try to take control again, and I stop. Understand?”
“Yes.” I’d have agreed to anything at that point.
“Good.” He leaned back in, tongue circling my clit with devastating precision. “Now play with your breasts. Pinch your nipples for me. Make them hurt.”
My hands flew to my chest, cupping my breasts and rolling the peaked nipples between my fingers. The dual sensation—his mouth working between my legs combined with the sharp pleasure-pain of my own touch on my sensitive nipples—was almost too much.
Kane increased his efforts, tongue flicking faster against my clit, and I felt the orgasm building like a wave about to crest. He brought me right to the edge then pulled back, leaving me gasping and empty.
“ Kane —”
“Not yet.” He pressed a soft kiss to my inner thigh. “I want to feel you fall apart.”
Then he was back, relentless now, tongue and lips and the perfect pressure and friction of his fingers sliding inside me, curling against that spot that made my vision white out.
I pinched my nipples harder, arching into the sensation as the orgasm crashed through me—a rolling, almost violent wave of pleasure that tore a cry from my throat and left me shaking.
I was still trembling through the aftershocks when I heard the rasp of a zipper.
I opened my eyes to see Kane shoving his jeans down just far enough to free his cock—hard and thick and already glistening at the tip.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me down onto his lap in one smooth motion, arranging me so I was straddling him while he still knelt on the floor, the head of his cock sliding through my slick heat.
I grabbed his face and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. He groaned into my mouth as he notched himself at my entrance, and then he was inside me, sliding home so easily that we both moaned at the rightness of it.
“Fuck yourself on my cock,” he rasped against my lips.
I moved, lifting and sinking, gripping him with my inner muscles and dragging every inch of him through my still-spasming body. His hands slid up my back, pressing me closer, and everything suddenly got hotter, more frantic. The slick sounds of our bodies moving together filled the room.
His hand cupped my breast, thumb and forefinger finding my nipple and pinching harder than I’d done myself. The shock of it zinged straight to my core, making me clench around him.
“That’s it,” he gritted out. “Squeeze me just like that.”
He dipped his head and took my nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, and I felt the contractions start deep inside—my body clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses I couldn’t control.
“Kane—” I gasped. “I’m going to—”
“ Come ,” he commanded against my breast. “Come on my cock.”
I shattered, the orgasm ripping through me so intensely I couldn’t breathe. In the same moment, Kane grabbed my waist and yanked me down, burying himself to the hilt as he pulsed inside me, his groan vibrating against my skin as his own release shuddered through him.
In the aftermath, we stayed locked together on the floor, neither of us willing to move yet. My head fell to his shoulder, and I felt his heart pounding against my chest as fast and erratic as my own.
“Well,” Kane said eventually, his voice rough and sated, “remind me to lose at poker more often.”
A laugh bubbled up from somewhere in my chest. I lifted my head to look at him—this man who’d been my enemy and my protector and my lover, all in the span of a few chaotic days.
His hair was wrecked from my fingers, his lips swollen from kissing me, and there was a softness in his eyes I hadn’t seen in, well, two long years.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I said.
His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture unexpectedly tender. “You’re trouble, Charlotte Massey.”
“The best kind.”
He huffed a laugh and pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead that made my heart tighten with a complicated, painful ache.
I didn’t know how Kane really felt about me. Didn’t know if this was just sex and a way to pass the time while we waited. We had so much history between us, so much damage. Maybe this was all we’d ever be…two people who burned hot together but couldn’t build anything lasting from the ashes.
But if this was all I could have—these stolen moments in a safehouse, his body against mine—then I was going to enjoy every second of it.
Whatever came next, I’d deal with it when it arrived.
For now, this was enough.