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“Last night when I crawled in with you, I wanted my cock right here.” He cups my hot sex through my shorts and gives a little squeeze.
“I wanted that, too,” I say. I wanted that from the first time I met him.
“I wanted to fuck you until sunup, a week from tomorrow,” he says, and I quake. Violently.
“Cason...”
“I can’t give you more than that, Londyn.” His eyes go dark, lock on mine, and I gasp at the frighteningly intense way he’s staring at me. “I won’t.” I gulp and he goes quiet, waiting for a response.
He’s protecting his heart. I get it. I should be protecting mine, too. “I don’t want more,” I say, as his cold, foreboding words echo in my brain. “I can only give you my body. Nothing else.” I grip a fistful of his hair, urging his mouth back to mine, and as he tears his gaze away, I’m not entirely sure that we’re on the same page or that I’m being honest with him or myself. But I appreciate him laying out the ground rules for this affair, and plan to follow them.
He kisses my neck, licks my skin, his heavy-lidded eyes skimming my face before his mouth once again claims mine. He grips the band of my pajama shorts and I expect him to slide them down my legs. Instead, he dips a finger inside, and slowly inches me open.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath as he releases my mouth and runs the rough pad of his finger along me. He finds my clit, circles it cruelly, coming close but never touching, and I gyrate forward, trying to force him to center his touch. His dark chuckle curls around me and I take a shaky breath.
“Cason,” I murmur.
He puts his mouth next to my ear and the heat of his mouth takes me even higher. “You need something, Londyn?”
“Yes,” I say and sag against the wall.
“Might this be it?” he asks, and finally applies pressure to my aching nub. A moan rumbles in my throat as his wet fingers deftly swirl, creating heat and friction that rocks me to my core.
“Oh, God, yes. It’s exactly what I need.” He groans and pushes himself against me, and I gyrate my body to massage his erection. His hips flex, power forward, and I love the needy growl that follows my teasing movements.
“I need something, too,” he murmurs into my ear, his breathing harsh and labored.
“I can tell,” I respond playfully and rub him a little more.
“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?” he asks and looks me over, like he’s gauging my reaction. I get the strangest sense that he could be a little afraid of what he needs. That he might lose control. I’ve never had a man lose it with me before, and the idea of it happening with Cason, a man I’ve never stopped thinking about, fills me with a kind of excitement I wish I didn’t feel.
“What...what do you need?” I ask, wanting everything with him, even if it means emotional suicide.
He slides a finger into my heat. “I need you bent over the island, until you’re wide open for me.”
I gulp, as his dirty words and invading finger bring on a shudder. He changes the pace, running his thumb over my clit a bit faster, sweeping side to side until I’m damn near delirious.
“That feels so good,” I whimper.
“Yeah, you feel good. So wet and ready for me.” His hands shift and I almost cry at the loss of his touch but it turns to a moan as he dips a second thick finger inside, penetrating deeply as he uses the heel of his hand to massage my clit. Blood pumps through my veins double time, and sensations center on my core as an orgasm takes shape. I can’t believe he’s taking me to the edge so fast. Then again, it’s been so long since I’ve been touched, and no man has ever quite touched me the way Cason is right now.
“Not yet,” he says and pulls his hands from my shorts, leaving me hot and achy. God, is this some kind of cruel revenge? Take me to the edge and leave me hanging. Punishment for the way I wronged him.
“Cason,” I cry out, about to touch myself and finish this before I’m nothing more than a quivering mass of need on his kitchen floor. His lips twist knowingly, as I imagine the worst.
“The first time you come with me, I want it to be with my tongue so I can taste you,” he says, and I nearly sink to the floor, elated. He pushes against my shoulders, anchors me to the wall. His firm touch stabilizes me and my knees stop quivering.
“You good, Londyn?” he asks, his voice changing, becoming deadly serious with worry, and my heart leaps, loving the way he’s checking in on me.
“I will be,” I say, trying to get my shorts off to give him better access. He laughs and shoves my hands away.
“You don’t get to touch. Only I do,” he says and flattens my palms against the wall. “Keep them there. Your orgasms are mine.” His chin lowers and our eyes meet as he grips my shorts and peels them down my legs. Far too slowly for my liking. His breath is hot on my flesh, and goose bumps break out on my skin. I try to buck forward, try to hurry him. “Such a needy girl,” he whispers.
“Cason.”
I lift one leg and then the other. He tosses my shorts away, and goes back on his heels just to stare at me.
“You have the prettiest pussy,” he says and pets me gently. I nearly freaking come. I catch the heat in his gaze, the way his eyes are worshipping me. While no man has ever looked at me with such need, I can’t take another second of this torture. I’ve waited, wanted him for too long.
