Page 6 of Cash

Oh yeah, my head needed to be examined.

With his erection pressing against my lower back, Cash wasted no time reaching around me to unbutton my jeans. In one swift movement, he yanked them down over my ass. I felt his hand lift mine off the vanity but I was too mesmerized by the sight before me to pay attention to what he was doing until I felt my palm on my stomach. My gaze drifted down from studying our reflection, the way he towered over me making me feel small. Something I never felt standing next to a man—what I lacked in stature I made up for in attitude. The way his fair complexion contrasted with my olive skin. His blond to my brown hair. His light to my dark-blue eyes. We were opposites in every way, yet he fit me.

We fit.

Fear chased away the desire.

“Cash—”

He dipped his head bringing his mouth to my ear. “Watch.”

For some stupid reason, I watched.

Cash pushed our combined hands under the black silk of my panties, shifting his hand so it was over top of mine. He pressed my middle finger over my clit.

My hips jerked.

Cash growled.

And why was that the hottest thing I’d ever heard?

The fear that had crept in, the panic that another man had never even microscopically inched his way past my defenses like Cash had and was continuing to do faded when I felt his knuckles skim my ass as he pumped his cock.

It receded completely when he grunted, “I’m close, Stella. I want you there before me.”

If I was meant to do something, Cash didn’t give me the chance. His finger over mine was in control. He pressed, circled, rubbed, and my body obeyed with shocking speed.

In the mirror I watched Cash toy with my clit using my hand as my instrument of pleasure.

“Cash,” I panted, reaching out with my free hand to brace myself as my knees wobbled.

Wobbly knees, what the fuck was wrong with me? My knees didn’t get weak for a man.

“Hm,” he hummed against my neck. “Come for me, baby girl.”

His hand picked up speed. I felt his breath fanning over my skin. I heard his harsh breathing. I tilted my head to the side. Cash didn’t delay accepting my wordless invitation and clamped his teeth down on the sensitive tendon. The pain detonated my orgasm. My mind blanked of every thought, every worry, all the stress, responsibility, stupid decisions, and for a few blissful moments pure ecstasy washed over me.

I groaned my release. Cash’s eyes tipped up and caught mine in the mirror. Unfocused, hungry eyes that prologued my euphoria. I knew when Cash’s orgasm pulled him under. It wasn’t the hot splash of his come hitting my ass, nor was it the shiver that rolled through his big body. It was the way his eyes rolled up into his lids for a moment before he quickly recovered and slipped his arrogant Cash is King mask into place. But I saw it, the split second when his body’s biological response was such that he had no control.

The fucked-up place in my head craved that—having the power to strip a man of his control.

But deep down in a place I’d never expose, what I longed for more than anything was for a man to strip me of my power, to bathe me in his control, to allow me to be free, to blanket me with his protection. But that involved trust. And I trusted no one.

As soon as the pleasure ebbed, regret slunk in.

The fire I’d been playing with burned me, leaving me with painful blisters of defeat. And there were few things I hated more than losing.

Cash held my eyes as he released his teeth, kept staring at me while he lashed his tongue over the bite mark, and smiled his victory.

Dick.

“You done?” I snarked.

“No, baby girl, we haven’t even started.”

“You’re right, we haven’t and we never will,” I told him and yanked my hand out from under his.

With my chin tipped up, I mustered up what was left of my self-respect and hiked up my jeans, smearing his release into the fabric.