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His hand stayed on top of mine, pressing into his cock and my thumb automatically stroked over the head. Christ, I wanted him. I wanted him more than I had wanted someone in longer than I could remember. Cash's hand slid off of mine and both of his hands reached for my hips, gently pulling me toward him until I was straddling him.
“These are still hurting,” he said, his hand flattening over the elastic bandages around my center.
“Yeah,” I admitted, because they were.
“No way I can be inside of you without it hurting,” he mused. “I don't want to hurt you.”
Oh man.
Suddenly it wasn't just in my lady bits I felt him, it was in my chest, it was a fluttering, melting sensation that I was trying really hard to ignore.
Couldn't he be hot and sexy and a jerk? That would make my life so much easier.
But no, he had to be hot and sexy and a sweetheart. God damn it.
The hand that wasn't on my ribs moved up and touched my lips softly. “These are still hurting too.”
Oh, god. I wanted him to kiss me. No, strike that. I needed him to kiss me. I didn't care about it being a bad idea. I didn't care about having to regret it. And I damn sure didn't care about my sore lips.
“Kiss me, Cash,” I said, my voice an airy whisper.
His eyes rose to mine and watched for a second before the hand on my ribs moved up to cup the back of my neck. The other stayed gently resting on my cheek. “Well, if you insist,” he said with a cocky little grin before he pulled me toward him and his lips pressed down on mine.
It was soft, gentle, but it wasn't simply the promise of something more. It was consuming. It was strong, yet sweet and I felt it down to my toes, making them and everything in between feel tingly, making my soul feel lighter than it had in ages. My hands moved to rest on his shoulders for a moment before they went completely around the back of his neck, making our bodies meld together. My hips sank down and his hardness pressed up against my heat, but I didn't move against him, I didn't try to calm the pulsing desire there. All that mattered was the kiss, was the feeling of his lips on mine.
My mouth opened on a quiet sigh and his tongue slipped forward, tentatively toying with mine. It wasn't hesitation, like he was expecting me to pull away. It was teasing. It was him trying to get a response out of me no matter how softly he touched me, no matter how brief or light the touch. And it was... working.
His hand stroked down from my cheek to my neck, brushing gently over that sensitive skin and making a tremble vibrate through my body.
My hips stroked reflexively, making me break away from his lips as I felt his cock hit the sweet spot and a whimper escaped my lips.
Cash's eyes opened slowly, looking as heavy as mine felt. The hand at my neck started moving lower, over my clavicle, lower. His fingers brushed over my breast, his thumb stroking over my hardened nipple before his hand splayed and squeezed with just the right amount of pressure.
“You want this,” he said, taking my nipple between his two fingers and rolling it.
He was right. I wanted that. I wanted that and so, so much more. I wanted everything. And I wanted him to be the one to give it to me.
“Yes,” I said unnecessarily as he squeezed my nipple and had my hips dropped harder onto his, enjoying the pressure there.
“You gonna let me give it to you?”
Even not knowing what, exactly, he was asking, I felt my head nodding. “Yes.”
“That's what I wanted to hear,” he said with a small smile. His hand left my breast and moved downward, sliding down the center of my belly, getting to the triangle above my sex and pausing there, pressing hard for a moment before slipping suddenly downward and cupping my sex. I bit into my lip slightly, ignoring the pain in doing so, to stifle the groan that threatened to be loud enough to echo through his quiet house. His free hand moved upward and touched my lips as he pressed into my clit with his middle finger. “I want to hear you,” he said and my teeth released my lip. “Good girl.”
Normally, a man calling me a good girl, least of all a man younger than me, would be laughable, but when he did it, like with everything else he did, it was hot.
My hips shifted upward, giving him better access and he grunted in approval as his hand slid upward, slipping into the waistband of my panties and moving down to stroke through my wetness, letting it coat his fingers, his motions lazy and unhurried. I writhed into the sensation, the pressure becoming almost unbearable, inching toward the point of actual pain. Then, as if sensing the feelings creating chaos in my system, his finger pressed fully inside me. I felt myself tighten around him as I groaned, my hips moving against his hand, shamelessly seeking relief.
“You want more?”
“Yes,” I said, arching my ass back so the palm of his hand pressed against my clit. He let out a low groan that sent a shiver through my insides as he slid another finger inside me. “Oh, god yes...” I whimpered, my eyes closing, head falling back as he finally started thrusting in and out of me.
“I know you're trying to imagine this is my cock,” he said, curling his fingers inside of me, “but I want you to look at me.” My eyes opened slowly, feeling weighted as I focused on his face. “You'll get my cock, honey. But right now, be with me here.” His fingers stayed curled and started working over my G-spot, no longer soft, sweet, or slow, they were rapid and demanding and I felt my orgasm building quickly at the sudden change of pace. “So fucking tight,” he groaned, leaning up slightly to take my mouth again, his lips as insistent and wild as his fingers. If there was pain, I was beyond experiencing it as his kiss seared into me, branded me in a way I hadn't known was possible, in a way that I was sure when all was said and done between me and Cash, I would still feel his lips on mine when I was lying in bed alone at night.
