28
Luna
The command hits me like a jolt of electricity, sparking along every nerve ending.
He’s given me a choice that isn’t really a choice. And since I’d die of mortification before letting myself soak his face, my defiance crumbles.
Fuck it.
Red-faced, I peel off my cashmere top and jeans before I can think better of it, leaving me in matching blue silk and lace lingerie. The cool air raises goosebumps across my skin, but it’s his gaze that makes me shiver—dark, intense, stripping away more than just clothing.
I turn my back to him, hook my thumbs into my panties, and with deliberate slowness, bend at the waist to slide them off, savoring his sharp intake of air. I spin to face him, one hand covering my mound, the other tossing the scrap of material at him. He catches it and brings it to his face.
Sud denly inexplicably shy, I toy with the clasp of my bra, delaying the inevitable.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Ten more seconds, princess,” he grits out. “Otherwise, I’ll give you something to really blush about.”
I unclasp my bra and let it fall. I have to bite my lip as his hungry gaze locks onto my tight pierced nipples. I trail a finger along one silver bar, feeling a surge of power as a low growl rumbles through him.
“Come here,” He rasps.
I step forward between his spread legs. The moment my ass hits his thigh, his hands close around my hips like brands. I gasp as he lifts me as if I weigh nothing then re positions me with my thighs straddling his hips. The rough handling sends heat spiraling through me, but I refuse to let him see how much it affects me.
Then he leans forward, lips brushing my ear. “Good girl.”
I roll my eyes, hating the instant clench in my core at his words.
He only smirks, and then his gaze drops to my breasts. Green eyes zeroing in on my nipple bars for what feels like days. I’m about to make a quip about his obvious fascination, but then the sensation of his callused hands sliding slowly up my sides steals the words.
His palms bracket my torso, thumbs coming to rest just below my breasts. He begins stroking along the edges of my areolae, carefully avoiding my straining nipples. With every brush, the skin puckers more, and nerve endings crackle to life.
What the fuck?
I bite back a moan as desire leaks out of me. He’s learning me, I realize with a shiver, my lids fluttering closed, my lower lip caught between my teeth. He’s testing exactly what makes me respond. And, dear God, he’s hit the mark.
When he finally catches my piercings between his fingers, the moan that escapes me is embarrassingly loud. My body arches without permission, instantly seeking more. I want to hate how easily he plays me, but the pleasure spiraling through me makes it impossible to care.
Cade chuckles low in his throat, a self-satisfied sound that makes me melt. and then he’s touching my aching nipples, pinching just enough to drive me insane.
“Your tits are fucking perfect.” His eyes fill with lustful appreciation.
I will my mouth to say something smart, but all I manage is another moan. His fingers work my piercings, each tug sparking raw pleasure through me.
“Christ, look at that fucking beautiful mess you’re making on me,” he growls. I’m beyond mortification, my hips rolling and grinding hard on his thigh, seeking relief. His fingers dig into my hips and lock me in place.
“You will stay still and take everything I give you.” His harsh tone has my eyes flying open to meet his hard stare. “Won’t you, princess?”
My fingers dig into his shoulders as my mind wars with my body’s demands. But there’s a high that comes with giving in, like a shot of adrenaline in my veins. So I bite my lip and force myself to nod.
His smirk tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and his eyes make it clear he’s not done pushing my boundaries.
“I’ve not even touched you, and yet you’re more than ready. You’d take my cock to the hilt right now, wouldn’t you?”
“ Cade,” I breathe, his name slipping from my lips, my hips shifting despite my best effort to obey. My fingers claw at his shoulders and nape, begging for less and for more of this—him.
I shouldn’t want this—I’ve never wanted this. To give a man control and trust him with my body. But that’s exactly what I find myself doing his fingers drive me insane.
“Don’t be shy now. Tell me exactly what you want.”
I whimper. “Make me come.”
“More,” he commands, his eyes flashing with something dark and possessive. “Beg for it.”
Heat floods my face as our gazes lock. He’s testing me, taking me back to that moment in Sophie’s kitchen when I let my pride win.
Now, I’m too far gone. Now, I want to submit. “Please, Cade,” I whisper. “I need you.”
He arches an eyebrow. “What do you need? My fingers? My tongue?”
Oh God, he’s not letting up. “Your cock. Fuck me, please.”
Cade’s smirk turns dark with satisfaction, and I know I’ve given him exactly what he wants. “Not yet, my beautiful slut,” he murmurs. “You’ll have to earn it.”
I gasp as white-hot need and indignation spike in me. “You’re such a dick.” His low chuckle vibrating through me only ramps up my hunger
Suddenly desperate to drive him just as crazy as he’s driving me, I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull. “Take this off.”
Cade goes still, his eyes heating with something like bemusement, and I know he’s more used to giving pleasure than receiving it. He hesitates for a heartbeat, then with one swift motion, he grabs the back of his T-shirt and yanks it over his head. “Knock yourself out.”
The sight of his torso, a masterpiece of hard muscle, ink, and scars, steals my breath. I’m about to run my hands over the mouthwatering display when my gaze lands on his rosary. An icy chill races down my spine.
That metal symbol of darkness and death makes me question everything I’m doing here. Reminds me of why I sent Reese that email.
It’s not real. He’s only reeling me. Shit. I’m an idiot.
My hands fall away, and I start to straighten, but Cade catches my retreat. His hand fists in my nape, forcing my gaze away from the rosary.
“Look at me.”
I try to meet his blazing eyes, but I can’t stop looking at those sinister beads glinting in the low light.
He tightens his grip just enough to get my attention, then he takes my hand and guides it to the angle of his jaw, pressing in there so I can feel his thundering pulse. When my gaze finally lifts to his, he slowly guides my hand down his neck, then lower and to the left, until he’s pressing my palm flat against the point his heart thunders beneath the muscle.
“You’re with me. Not a weapon. Not a symbol. Me.”
He releases my hand, then boldly wraps his own around my neck, applying light pressure. My breath catches, his dominance blurring the line between fear and desire.
And then his thumb flicks my clit.
“Cade!” I moan, my body arching into his touch, every nerve alight with need.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his hand firm around my neck as he works slow, torturous circles over my clit. “Stay right here with me.”
My hips move shamelessly, chasing his touch as pleasure obliterates everything else.
“ You’re fucking starving for me,” he murmurs.
Then, Cade tightens his grip around my neck, the force of his need, like a riptide, barreling through yet another limit, making it clear without words he wants not just my surrender but my trust. I give into the feeling, and instead of fear, I’m rewarded with pleasure so sharp that my eyes roll back, and my mouth slackens in a soundless moan.
“You’re mine,” he growls. “Your body. Your pleasure. All mine.”
I whimper. The tension in my pelvis coils tighter with each filthy word, each masterful stroke making my pussy clench until my orgasm is so close I can taste it.
“I can feel how hard you’re going to come.” Cade leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “But you’re not there until I say you are.”
What? I shake my head, and my hands claw at his shoulders. I’m too close. “I can’t hold—”
“You can.” His fingers slow just enough to keep me on the edge. It’s pure agony.
“You’ll come when I own every gasp. Every shiver. Every drop of you.”
“Cade . . .” I sob, desperate for more than just release—I want what he gives me. My hands roam over the hard planes of his chest, the swells and dips of and shoulders. The feel of him quenches a bottomless thirst inside me, yet I want more.
My fingers drift over the dreaded metal beads around his neck, but I’m too lost in him—his heat, his scent, the control he wields over me—to care.
With a low growl, he brings my mouth to his in a searing kiss.
It’s everything I’ve been straining for. And when his hand moves to palm me, roughly dragging against not just my clit, but my entire sex with rapid, perfect friction, I shatter.
Spectacularly.
Cry ing out into his mouth, my body convulses as the orgasm crashes over me. I gush against his still-grinding hand as waves of pleasure wrack me.
He holds me steady through the chaos until I’m boneless. When he lets me go, I collapse against him, my face buried into the crook of his neck.
Stunned by what he’s pulled from me, how completely he’s claimed my surrender, I can only take gulps of air to steady my breathing.
Tiny after-shocks intensify, making my pussy tighten around . . . nothing. Fuck, I want more. I want him filling me until I can’t think.
My tongue darts out to trace the salty skin under his jaw right up to just beneath his ear. His groan eggs me on. When I suck his ear lobe into my mouth, Cade shudders . . . fucking shudders. I rear back, surprised by how sensitive he is and that’s when I realize I’ve got his rosary looped around my index finger.
I jerk my hand away, but before panic has a chance to claw up my throat, Cade’s hand slides to the back of my neck and holds me in place. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.
“Take my cock out. Now.”
My pussy clenches against his hand in response to that gruff command. Cade’s rumbling chuckle tells me he felt it too.
“Fuck, baby, I can’t wait to feel you squeeze me like that.”
Baby.
The word sends another ripple of lust through me. My fingers find his belt buckle, my mind torn between common sense and overwhelming need. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never done this with anyone. I want this with Cade and I want it now.
The zipper feels foreign under my trembling hands, but I manage. Then he’s free, and—
Holy fucking shit.
Hav ing seen him naked before, I thought I knew what to expect. But the sight of Cade this aroused just stops my brain.
He’s a whole lot bigger. Dripping too, precum rolls down the fat head. Those mouth-watering veins stand out in stark relief, winding along a shaft that looks impossibly thick.
“Cade, I—you—” I sputter, unable to form the words to tell him I can’t take him.
“Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”
My protest ends in a needy moan as his words melt logic into lust. Cade’s hands tighten around my ass, urging me to my knees, so I’m hovering over him.
I swallow hard, then brace my hands on his shoulders, and do as he says, ignoring the voice in my head telling me I’m insane to try this.
I really should have practiced with the Bliss Xtra while I had the chance.
His hand grips my nape. “Wider.”
I obey again, gasping when the thick head of his cock hits my clit, then I groan as he notches himself right at my entrance, pushing in the first half inch.
The intense stretch draws a cry of pleasure from me.
Oh fuck, he feels this good, and he’s barely even inside me?
Cade’s mouth captures mine, his kiss rough and demanding. Then he pulls back, pinning me with a searing look. “Now, show me how badly you need me. Sit on my cock.”
My heart lurches at his filthy command, and I’m moving before I can think. I slam myself down on him just as he thrusts up, and—
Everything stops.
Time freezes at the point where we’re joined, where searing heat meets blinding pain as his cock stretches me past breaking point.
“ Fuck!” I cry out, my hands slapping against Cade’s shoulders, fingers clenching reflexively. My nails dig into his skin as my body burns from the overwhelming sensation.
It’s too much. He’s too much. My head falls against Cade’s neck, and without thinking, I bite him—hard. I sink my teeth into his skin again, latching on as if it might distract me from the pain.
Cade goes rigid beneath me. He doesn’t even flinch at my savage bites, though I feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles lock.
In the haze, I hear Saint growling in the background, the menacing sound cutting through my focus. He must have heard me scream blue murder.
“Go to bed, Saint!” Cade barks and the dog immediately retreats, his claws clicking faintly on the floor before disappearing.
Tears sting my eyes as my body shudders, unused muscles fluttering and clenching around him, instinctively working to take him deeper even as the burn spreads.
Fuck, it hurts.
Cade grabs me by the scruff of my neck and pulls me up to face him, his eyes blazing with disbelief—and something else that looks suspiciously like barely contained amusement.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he whispers.
Through tears and ragged breaths, I glare at him. “I will end you if you dare laugh at me, Cade Quinn.” The threat might carry more weight if I wasn’t impaled on him and trembling like a virgin sacrifice—which technically, I am.
His mouth twitches. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then he reclines back against the couch
“Alright, listen,” his hand trails up my side until he’s palming my breast, fingers very lightly closing around my nipple. “I’ve got you.”
His gentle touch soothes something inside me until my breathing steadies and the burning stops.
“You’re going to take my cock—every last inch. And you’re going to beg for more.”
The crude promise sends a bolt of painful pleasure inside me. He tilts my hips so I’m at an angle and then he’s stroking my clit, and holy fuck, it’s a thousand times hotter being stretched full of him.
I moan as my body yields, taking inch by impossibly thick inch until he’s completely filling me. Pain and pleasure war for dominance, but there’s something else too. The rapid bunching of the muscles beneath my grip.
Holy fuck. Cade is shaking.
“Cade?”
“You feel—Christ, I can’t fucking think,” he groans, his voice so gravelly it barely sounds human.
My fingers find his jaw, stubble rough against my palm. His pulse races under my touch—too fast, erratic. The unflappable asshole Cade Quinn is losing his ever-loving shit.
I bite my lip, his reaction driving my greed for more . . . power. I start to roll my hips, tentative at first, like I’m giving him a subtle lap dance. And then, feeding off his gasps and moans, I swivel my hips more confidently as the pain eases into a pleasurable ache.
Cade’s grip tightens on my hip as curses spill from his lips. “Baby.” He throws his head back, his muscles straining in stark relief. “You fuck me so good.”
Something about his loss of control makes me go wild.
I move faster. Then, seeing the way he growls each time I take him deep, I push past the last of my fear, change the angle, and start moving up and down. The motion draws helpless, tortured sounds from his throat.
And then, to my surprise, I find I’m the one who starts to unravel. Each time I take him deep, nerve endings drag tight against his rigid length transforming each stroke into a flood of pleasure.
“Oh, Cade . . . you’re . . . you—”
“I know, baby.”
As if waking from slumber, Cade’s dominance returns. His grip turns bruising as he takes over, driving up into me, each thrust hitting with devastating precision that spot that makes my vision blur. Pain and pleasure crash over me in violent waves, too intense to process. All I can do is take it as he wrecks me.
“Cade!” I cry out, thrashing against him, but he doesn’t stop. His punishing rhythm continues until the orgasm tears through me like a storm, seizing every muscle.
Only then does he still, hands digging into my flesh as he holds me down, grinding deeper while I convulse around him. His eyes devour every reaction, every broken cry, like he’s memorizing how he destroyed me.
When I’m nothing but a trembling heap, Cade tenses beneath me. Without warning, he pulls out of me, and then, he’s stroking himself hard. A guttural sound tears from his throat as thick ropes of cum splash across my breasts and stomach—marking me, claiming me.
When he’s finished, I bury my flaming face into the crook of his neck and try to process the sheer intensity of what just happened.
His light, feathery touches return, stroking up my back in slow, soothing motions like he’s calming a storm. His lips brush against my shoulders and up my neck, the fleeting tenderness of it contrasting with what he just did.
“ Luciana,” he whispers, softer than I’ve ever heard him. Not a growled command. Just my name murmured like a secret meant for only the two of us.
And something inside me breaks.
A sob escapes before I can stop it, and then another until I’m shaking with embarrassingly loud sobs.
Cade pulls me closer, his lips brushing my ear. “Don’t beat yourself up, baby. You couldn’t have known what you were missing out on all those years.”
The mirth simmering in his voice should piss me off. He promised he wouldn’t make fun of me. “Cade, I can’t handle your cockiness right now.”
“I’d say you handled it pretty damn well.”
I rear back to glare daggers at him, but all it does is make him throw his head back and belly laugh—the bastard.
When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head in mock disbelief. “The fucking audacity of you though. Building an adult dating app, launching a sex toy line . . . and you’ve never even had sex? Where’s the authenticity?”
Groaning, I drop my head onto his shoulder. “God, I hate you.”
“I know,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath warm and intimate. “One of the hazards of trusting me.”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
Something about the way he says it—half teasing, half warning—sends a cold sensation spread through my chest, even as the warmth of his body presses against mine.
Trust.
The word echoes in my head like a warning bell. Is that what this is?
My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything else.
I ’m suddenly grateful for the phone I hid in the bathroom. My backup plan. If there was ever a time to kick off my heels and run, it’s right fucking now.
Because what Cade Quinn evokes is far more dangerous than trust.