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“But, honestly,” she continues, “I’d settle for independence. I mean, I’m twenty-one years old, right? But I feel like I’m still a child because I depend on my parents.”
“So don’t. Your independence is there. You just have to take it.”
She becomes quiet, then, as if that’s enough serious talk for her, she smiles at me. “I’m also after the perfect Dom.”
“No such thing as perfection when it comes to humans.”
“You’re pretty perfect.”
I meet her glimmering gaze. “You might think differently without your safe word.”
“Omigod! I wassooofucking close. The big, bearded guy coughed just as I was throwing the dart. Otherwise, it would have been a bullseye.”
“I believe it.”
“I should have been allowed a do-over.”
I pull the car up to the cabin and say without sympathy, “Life’s a bitch.”
She purses her lips. “You’re not very nice.”
I grab her by the jaw and pull her to me. My stare digs into hers. “Never said I was. In case you have any doubts, I’m the bad guy, princess. And I don’t transform into a prince at any point in time.”
So you should run. Run far away from me.
Her lashes flutter, and for a few seconds, she seems to absorb my warning. But then that fearless, reckless part of her emerges.
“What if I fucked you really hard?” she asks as mischief radiates from her eyes.
Fuck me. I can’t believe this woman. Of course, she doesn’t know I was speaking in earnest, but she still surprises me.
As if I want to know the answer to her question, I yank her to me and crush my lips to hers. I can taste the salt from her fries. And then there’s her. The taste of her, wet and warm as I dig my tongue into her mouth. I devour her with a hunger I didn’t know I had. Over and over, I consume her, barely cognizant of how the bruising force might be too much for her. The kiss isn’t just about giving in to passion; it’s a warning, echoing my earlier words.
But she’s not backing down. She’s not succumbing. She gives it back with her own fervor. And that makes the heat flare throughout me.
We’re still in our ski clothes, and I doubt Andy would be ecstatic to have us fuck in his car. But I don’t want to wait.
Without parting our lips, I shift the car seat back, then pull Casey over. She straddles me while I continue to ravage her mouth. Threading her fingers through my hair, she tugs hard. I didn’t give her permission to do that, but I like it. Putting a hand to the back of her head, I shove her lips further into mine, taking every breath of hers. She starts to struggle for more air. I move to her neck, taking large mouthfuls while she gyrates her hips, grinding herself atop me.
After pulling down the straps of her overalls, I pull out her sweater and thrust both hands beneath. I caress her back, grasp her waist, and grope a breast through her hot pink sports bar. Her sighs and murmurs fill my ears, edging my ardor. I yank her bra above her breasts. The tight band of the bra presses the orbs down. Reaching for one, I bring the nipple to my mouth.
She gasps. “Shit, they’re still sore!”
Good. I assault the hardened nub even more.
“Shit!” she swears again, squealing when I bite and suck the nipple harder.
Giving her a reprieve, I return to kissing her. She mauls me with her mouth, possibly to prevent me from going back to her nipple. She humps my leg.
Fisting my hand in her hair, I pull her head back. “You looking to come on my leg?”
“Please,” she murmurs.
Feeling like I could lose myself in her, I force myself to regain control and take a breather. Releasing her hair, I grab my scarf from the backseat and bind her forearms behind her back. I can tell she wants to get back to what she was doing before, but she waits patiently as I rip out a thread from the hem of her sweater. Once it’s long enough, I sever it, fold it several times to thicken the string, and wrap one end around her nipple.
She sucks in her breath. “You want to make it hurt, don’t you?”
I look at her. “Don’t you?”
