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Somehow he managed to peel the tight dress down and expose my nipples. They just seemed to burst forward out of the top of the boost bra. At first I wasn’t sure anything was happening when he started sucking one. I had never thought of them as a particularly sensitive part of my body. But he was persistent. He just dedicated himself to sliding his tongue over the tautness, occasionally switching from one to the other. When he wasn’t sucking one, he was rolling it between his fingertips, and that callused skin was rough and arousing. Without me even meaning for it to happen, he started to call up desire from deep inside me. Each tug and twist, lathe and suck, drew an answering response down in my core, where my body had a knowledge I didn’t.
He briefly pulled back and looked up at me with those pale blue eyes, so unreadable, so sexy and slumberous. “Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached over and lifted his glass and took a sip. Then he offered it to me.
For whatever reason, I actually nodded. Not because it seemed polite. But because I had never had straight whiskey and I was curious. He raised the glass to my lips and fed it to me, an interesting sensation. It felt reckless and silly and sexy. I took a tiny sip and swallowed the acrid, bitter taste before it could linger in my mouth. It burned all the way down my throat, causing me to shudder. But, oddly, it settled down into my pussy, a hot, wet burn, making me even more aware of my ache.
I wondered if he would just shift me onto his cock like this and how that would feel. I was aware of the thick press of him against my thigh and that logistically this was a premium position.
“Not a whiskey fan?” he asked.
“I think I like beer better.”
“Want me to get it?”
I shook my head. “I’m not thirsty.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Are you hungry, Sophie?”
His hands were on my ass and he was shifting my dress, easing it farther up so that it ended up bunched around my waist. It was distracting. As was the question. “I suppose it depends on what you mean by that question.” I knew he didn’t mean actual cuisine. “Do you mean am I hungry, as in, hungry for sex? Is my desire stirred? Or was that a suggestion that I put something in my mouth such as your cock?”
I would never learn if I didn’t ask for clarity. I knew I wasn’t stellar at flirtation and I wanted to improve. I thought it was a fair question. Bella would have died if she had heard me ask something like that. But Cain just watched me.
“Fair enough. I don’t want you to suck my dick, Soph. Not yet.”
I was actually disappointed. That was the one thing I felt confident doing.
“I want to focus on you,” he said.
Cain kissed me again and I forgot about my oral sex skills. I could show those off later. Right now he was doing things to me everywhere, making me question how many hands he had. As he took my mouth he started me on a rhythm, rocking my hips forward on him, mimicking sex. It forced my clit to collide with that bulge in his pants, and my bare nipples to brush against his warm skin. His grip on my ass was tight, possessive, and for some reason, I liked that. It felt solid. Like I wouldn’t fall. But also like he wouldn’t give this moment up easily.
He wanted me.
And damn, did I want him.
I held on to his shoulders and kissed him back enthusiastically, tangling my tongue with his. I found the rhythm with him, and helped create a more powerful impact between our bodies by rocking my hips along with the push he was giving me. I spread my legs farther instinctively.
“Tell me what to do,” I said, because I thought there was no way this was doing anything for him. He was a grown man and I was still wearing panties.
“Relax. You are doing something.”
All my nerve endings felt splayed open. I had an urgency that I wasn’t expecting, and I felt impatient and annoyed with his casualness. Didn’t he understand the point was to push through this? To just get it over with? That’s what I had told him. He should understand that he should behave like a lot of guys and just take it. Just get his rocks off and be done.
Yet, Cain looked like he had all night. He looked at me like I was his bottle of whiskey. He wanted small sips and big swallows, but he wanted the whole bottle over the entire night.
I dug my nails into his skin, needing to ground myself. I wasn’t trying to arouse him, but it seemed to have that effect. He made a sound in the back of his throat. “Harder.”
“What?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.
“Dig in harder.” He dug his own fingers into my ass harder as he spoke, presumably to show me what he meant.
The grip was on the verge of painful yet weirdly exciting. I applied more pressure to his shoulders. He bent forward and pulled my nipple in his mouth again. Then he nipped it. I jerked backward, almost falling off his lap. “What was that?” I asked automatically, shocked.
But it wasn’t a bad feeling. In fact, now that I thought about it, it made my inner thighs dampen. Like instantly. That was interesting.
“I bit you.”
