Page 65 of Convincing the Catcher

“Yes,” I lie, knowing damn well I didn’t foresee any of this happening.

I told myself over and over that once we got back to NEU, I’d put him in the friend zone. And not the kind with benefits either. But then our flight was delayed, and we were stuck in Chicago. I guess I figured, What’s it going to hurt to enjoy everything he’s teaching me a little longer?

So, here I am, lying naked on this bed, while Cane Hale positions himself between my legs and looks up at me.

“Last night, I barely tasted you,” he says, eyes hooded. “But now? Now I’m going to fucking devour you, Harland. I’m going to devour you until you’re coming all over my tongue. Is that okay?”

I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly nervous. It’s much lighter in here right now, and I’m so exposed. The thought always returns, the one that reminds me how many women he’s likely been with who have bigger breasts than mine or who are more flawless than I am.

“Can we—” I stop, chewing my lip. “Turn off the lights maybe? At least a few?”

“Fuck no,” he says instantly, without even pondering it. “A reason my dick is so hard is when I look at you, seeing how fucking gorgeous you are.” He clutches my thighs, parting my legs. “Don’t try to hide yourself from me, Harland.”

The shyness is still there, but I try to relax and let my legs stay apart, even though I’m tense. He knows I’m struggling too. And what he says next somehow makes me feel better, perhaps because it makes me ache for him even more and tingle in all the right places.

“You sucked my dick so well, baby. It felt so fucking good, and now I want to repay you, okay?”

My nipples harden from his dirty words, and I drag in a breath.

“So, I’m going to bury my face between your thighs and lick your pussy until you’re comfortable. And then I’m going to flip onto my back, and you’re going to climb on my face and ride it until you’re coming on my tongue.”

That I don’t even know what he’s talking about is the sad thing, but whatever it is … I want in. I’m not shy anymore, just eager. And before I can overthink it or think about it at all, I tangle my hands into his hair and pull his mouth against my heat.

His tongue sweeps across my aching center, teasing me just enough to make me whimper loudly before he drags it over the same spot again. His arms hook around my legs, pushing me away from his face before pulling me closer. Again and again, his tempo remains unhurried.

His tongue strokes are slow and deliberate, and honestly, I’m ready for more because I’m about to lose my mind. His eyes dart up to mine, and he watches me before flicking his tongue against my most sensitive place.

I grasp his hair tighter, and he takes the hint, pushing his tongue into my heat harder and faster. I moan, over and over, without being able to stop myself before suddenly, he pulls his head back, instantly making me pout.

“Cane,” I whimper, “don’t stop. Please …”

A sly, satisfied grin stretches across his lips just before he drops down beside me. Reaching for my side, he yanks me on top of him.

“Come on, beautiful girl,” he utters gruffly. “Climb aboard my face.”

The request gives me pause. “Cane,” I protest lightly, “I’m not like … I’m not exactly light. I mean, my legs are the size of most men’s. I could suffocate you with my thighs without even meaning to.”

“Catch, crack my neck like a fucking walnut—I don’t care. On my grave, just put, Here lies a man who got to die with his tongue in Harland Meadows’s pussy. Therefore, he’s already in heaven.”

Part of me wants to hesitate, but an even bigger part is so eager to chase down the same feeling he gave me last night—only without the pain this time—that within seconds, I’m climbing over him until my heat hovers over his mouth.

“Rub that tight, gorgeous pussy all over my lips, Harland,” he growls, gripping my legs.

Lowering myself the rest of the way down, I settle against him, using his face as a literal chair. His tongue pushes inside me, licking back and forth, and I lurch forward slightly, caught off guard by how much more intense it feels from this angle.

“Ride, baby,” he grumbles. “Grip the headboard and ride my fucking face.”

Almost like I’ve done this before in another life, my hand slaps against the headboard, and I thrust myself back and forth, forcing his tongue deeper inside. The sensation of his tongue, mixed with the friction of grinding myself against his lips, is nearly too much, but I can’t stop myself from chasing something I’m afraid I’ll now need every time I’m around him.

The thought that I may be hurting him briefly crosses my mind, but not long enough for me to stop myself, and I toss my head up toward the ceiling, sending my hair down my back, where he grabs hold of the bottom of it.

A feeling that was foreign until last night begins to tingle inside me from deep within. It hits my body like a wave, crashing over each and every cell until my hips are bucking fiercely and roughly.

“Cane,” I cry out, gripping his skin and sinking my nails in as my orgasm hits, melting my entire being. “Oh … my … God,” I growl, not even recognizing my own voice as my eyes squeeze shut. “Cane …”

At this point, he’s not even doing much work because my body has taken over, and I roll my hips forward. My toes stay curled for a few more seconds, and I let out one more long, soft moan before finally, my eyes flutter open, and I drag in a shaky, squeaky breath.

Once I’ve gathered myself enough, I crawl off Cane’s face to find him grinning at me. Grinning so hard that his dimple pops out.