CHAPTER FIFTEEN #3
The thought of her hungry for me is everything. Visions of just that pummel me—her choking on my cock, tears streaming down her face, those pretty eyes fixed on me beneath the fan of her thick lashes. Almost everything.
“That wasn’t on the menu. You’re the one who invited me to your birthday party.” I cover her palm with mine and push my head back to where I want it. “You get the gifts—orgasms.” I swirl my tongue around her sensitive clit. “But it’s rude not to feed your guest. And I intend to savor this cunt.”
She whimpers when I return to her sweetness, instantly crying out, “Cash, I … oh …”
I move my hands to her hips, my fingers sliding beneath her ass, so I can hold her in place while my tongue has all the fun—long and languid strokes, dipping inside her, and then a flicking circle that she immediately responds to.
Her nails dig into my scalp, her hips roll, and when I glance up, I notice her focus flits between the reflection of her splayed out like a feast before me to the sight of my mouth on her pussy.
Goose bumps sprout on her legs. Her toes curl.
She brazenly shoves my face deeper into her heat.
Fucking savage. And after just one night, I’m already learning her.
She’s so close. So fearless and authentic, even as she seeks her pleasure.
I maintain the rhythm she likes, humming in enjoyment because, goddamn, I could drown in her.
A selfish part of me longs to draw this out, so I pluck her from the counter, lay her down on the leather bench where I was sitting, drop to my knees, and have my way with her entire body.
The humid air and the leftover droplets of the shower have every inch of her skin supple and flushed.
I pump my fingers in and out of her as I glide my lips through the valley of her breasts, taking each sensitive nipple into my mouth, swirling and sucking and nipping until she’s arching violently and writhing for more.
She’s a mess of ardent euphoria, delicate whimpers floating between us. “Please, Cash. I need … I need your mouth again.”
“I could get used to you begging, Sly. I’d like to keep you greedy and desperate for me. Always. I can’t get enough.”
“Please,” she repeats. “Your mouth.”
Only then—with the melody of her entreaties ushering me—do I blaze a trail to her delectable cunt, replacing my fingers with my tongue, spearing and teasing and circling in the tempo that will send her soaring over that glorious precipice.
Her head lolls to the side, her breath catching as she watches us in the mirror.
Her entire body writhes from the pleasure, a dramatic push and pull that she can’t seem to resolve.
I clamp my arm over her hips to keep her where I want her, but not once does her gaze veer from our reflection.
And I know the sight of my mouth on her is what propels her over.
For a mind-blowing sendoff, I suck her clit with untamed fervor.
She comes with my name on her lips, and no fucking sound has ever been sweeter.
I stay my post, relishing every decadent trace of her juices, until her limbs flop, no longer capable of holding themselves up.
When I rise with the intent of wrapping her in my arms, she surprises me by leaping into them, curling herself around my body, and kissing me with every ounce of energy she still possesses.
And as the flavor of herself registers, another wave of carnality floods her. She gathers every speck with a feisty moan of satisfaction that is by far the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
“You taste that, baby? Fucking heaven.”
“Thank you,” she rasps between zealously ravishing my lips. “For tonight, for letting it just be this.”
I get the sense she thinks she’s doing me a favor by not asking for anything more, and I’m at a loss for how to reconcile my past with this present reality and what to do here.
Her eyes are hooded, and her drowsy tenor conveys how content and spent she is. “Best birthday I’ve had in … forever.”
“Me too. Best night of my life.” I capture her mouth once more, treasuring the hushed purr that radiates from her and the serenity she bestows when she burrows her face into my neck.
With her naked in my arms, I wrestle with the urge to use her sated body, to take what I need from her. She’d let me, but it’s not the time. For several reasons. One being that she’s draped around me, ready to drift off to sleep.
So, I tuck her into my bed, savoring the image of her bare beneath my sheets, even if I’m not tangled up with her.
I peck her forehead, and my lungs tighten painfully.
It takes everything in me to leave her there, but I don’t go without a reminder.
I walk back into the bathroom, clean up our mess, and leave her a message she won’t easily erase.
Then I text my brothers because I know when to fold.
Me: I stole her shampoo. Send help.
Maddox: You sniffed her fucking hair.
Jax: Not even gray joggers can save you now.
Ryker: Lock it down, man.
Axel: Welcome to the club.