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There was nothing like kissing Cavan Wilder. Nothing. His mouth knew mine already even as he explored it, and my mouth knew his even as he pressed me open and kissed me dirty, just like he’d promised. He licked me, letting me taste him, and then he dragged my bottom lip between his teeth. At the knife edge of pain he let it go and kissed me again, tilting my chin back, opening my mouth again. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth to the skin of my neck, using his teeth again until I flinched, and then letting go. Then he moved down my body to my breasts.

I was on fire. He did it over and over again—his teeth on me, that brief edge of pain, and then the release. He did it on the side of my breast, on the underside, on the skin just beside my nipple. He did it on my stomach, my hip. He opened my legs and did it on the inside of my thigh, on the hot, smooth skin so close to my pussy, which I exposed to him without shame. His big hand held my knee as I flinched, then flinched again as he moved to another spot. Then he lifted his head, his dark eyes on mine, his hand still holding my legs open.

“You need to come?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed. I had never needed anything more.

“Beg me,” he said.

It was easy. I would have gone on my knees for him just then. “Please,” I said. “Please.”

He put his other hand on my other knee, and in that moment I was amazed at the sight of him, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen between my legs. His gaze met mine. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said, and he lowered his mouth.

I arched up into him as he licked me. His tongue did a long sweep first, from my entrance up to my clit, and then it dragged back down. I gave a strangled cry of pleasure. I’d never done this before, because the sex I’d had had never been about my pleasure. I felt like until this minute I’d known nothing about sex at all. I was starting over with Cavan Wilder and his amazing, incredible mouth.

He worked me to the edge of orgasm, and then down again. Then he did it again, and again. Three times he nearly made me come, until I was near tears, until the sheets were sweaty beneath me, until I had my hands tangled in his hair. Then he swirled his tongue over me in exactly the right place and I finally came, arching furiously, my hips pressing me up to his mouth. The pleasure came in wave after wave, leaving me wrenched and shaking beneath him.

He lifted his head and moved up my body again, gentle now. He braced h

imself over me and looked down into my face, watching for something. I couldn’t tell if he saw it. He was breathing hard, his lips damp, his hair mussed, his chest moving, his shoulders flexed with his weight. His eyes never left my face.

“Okay?” he asked at last.

I was spinning, but I was slowly coming back to myself. I looked up at him and thought I had never seen a better sight in my life. I had never seen a face I adored so much, a body I wanted so much. I wanted him with everything I was, and I never wanted to stop.

“Yes,” I told him. I put my hand on the buttons of his jeans, undoing them as I watched the surprise on his face.

“Dani,” he said.

“Cavan,” I said back. “It’s my turn.”

Fourteen

Dani

He didn’t even try to stop me. Maybe he was so turned on he was sluggish. Maybe he was just surprised. He was hard as iron under his jeans, his cock straining against the buttons. He made a pained sound as my fingers worked against his skin.

I was high, my body heavy with satisfaction, but still I was greedy. I didn’t want to cuddle, and I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted him naked. I wanted his body under my control the way mine had been under his.

I finished with the buttons and found his cock behind the cloth of his boxer briefs. I rubbed it, but he gripped my hand and stopped me. “Fuck,” he said. “Hold on.”

He stood and stripped his jeans off, his shorts, and then he was naked at last. Not very interesting, he’d said. A lie. He was graceful and strong, every line of his body a work of art. He put a knee on the bed and I stared at his cock, not bothering to hide. It was hot and hard and blunt and I thought maybe it would hurt, but I also thought maybe I’d like it. If it was Cavan’s cock, I’d like it.

I wanted him inside me; I felt empty without him. But as he lay on the bed with me again, I changed my mind. Cavan Wilder had tortured me twice now, and I decided it was time to do some torturing myself. I pushed him onto his back and straddled him, bracing my hands on his chest.

He looked up at me, surprised again. He was an unbearably sexy sight sprawled on his back, his hair against the white pillows. I moved so I was between his legs, and then I leaned down and kissed the flat of his stomach, dragging my tongue over it, letting my hair tickle his skin. He tasted good. I licked downward and felt his body go still.

I lifted my mouth from his skin. “You don’t get a choice,” I told him. “You don’t get soft. You only get dirty.”

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

I sucked the tip of his cock into my mouth, then moved deeper, deeper. And once again, against my will, for a split second I saw McMurphy.

I couldn’t help it. This was the first act we’d ever done, and he’d pressured me. Pushed me. I’d given in, and I’d done it, but his forcefulness had left me skittish about it, unwilling. The more unwilling I was, the more McMurphy forced it on me—he fed on that, the play of power, making me give in each time. This particular act, more than any other, had been an endless self-feeding argument between us: the more he wanted it, the less I wanted to do it, which only made him want it more. When I left, I’d thought maybe I’d never do this again.

But like everything else, it was different with Cavan. I didn’t feel demeaned; I felt sexy, powerful. I felt unstoppable. I felt like while I gave him pleasure, I owned him. And that was what I wanted—to own him, body and soul, even if it was for the few minutes it took before he came.

I could feel my body tensing, an old reaction, so I pushed McMurphy from my mind and made myself relax. This was Cavan. I inhaled, and the scent of him, musky with sex mixed with my own wetness, made everything disappear. I took him in my mouth again, savoring him, taking him deep.

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