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Chapter fourteen
Cat
Reese. Naked. Hard all over, especially his cock. My tongue licking and stroking the soft skin covering hard steel. That is where this night, and a coffee shop encounter, has taken me and us. He watches me with half-veiled eyes, or he tries. I know the moment I’ve taken him to that blissful place where you just feel and don’t think. His lashes lower, and his face and body tense with pleasure. Now I’ve reached my wanted destination, that place I’d planned to travel with him when I settled on my knees before him, where I’m the one in control, but suddenly, it’s more about his pleasure. He affects me deeply, and the validation that I do affect him as well calms me and turns me on at the same time. That I need validation says I’m a mess of complicated history, and I hate that about me, but I don’t hate him.
I tuck the condom under his legs, ensuring it’s not lost, and one of my hands settles on his thigh, the springy hair there tickling my palm in a surprisingly erotic way, but then I am ultrasensitive, my body tingling all over. My hand is still at the base of his cock, and I drag my mouth back, no longer suckling or licking. His eyes open and I lick the salty-sweet drop of arousal pooling at the tip of his erection. It explodes on my taste buds and he moans. The sound of him turned on ignites my desire. I lick a circle around him and suckle him between my lips.
His thigh tenses beneath my palm, and I am now the one obsessed with this man and his pleasure, but I want him to reach for me, to need that release so badly, that he can’t help himself. With this goal driving me, I begin a slow glide up and down his length, and his hips lift with me. I can almost feel his need to hold me in place, but still he does not. I draw him deeper and inch closer to him, pressing my breasts to his legs.
He groans and leans forward. “Enough,” he orders, reaching for me.
I intend to resist, to take him all the way, but he’s too strong for me to fight. I am in his lap, flush against his chest, his fingers tangling in my hair, his lips on my lips. Tongue licking into my mouth in a sultry, deep kiss. His erection is at my backside, and somehow the condom manages to find my fingers.
I close my hand around it and press it to his chest. Somehow our lips part and I don’t think. I just ask what comes to my mind. “Why didn’t you let me finish?”
He pulls back and looks at me. “We finish together, sweetheart,” he says, his mouth crashing down on mine again. Together. I don’t even know what that word means. I thought I did. I wanted to know, but it feels like fiction, a story that ends badly. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about this. I don’t know what this man is doing to me. Even now, his hands traveling my back and his touch on my body affect me in a way I have never experienced. Every inch of my skin, every nerve ending, is tingling and alive.
“I need to be inside you,” he growls near my ear, his breath warm on my neck, before his lips brush the sensitive area.
My body reacts to those words, my sex tightening, aching. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
I move, or he moves me, I don’t know which. I’m so damn aroused I can barely think straight. All I know is somehow, that condom gets where it needs to go, and so do I. He shifts my weight and presses into me. I pant as he enters me, stretching me, pushing deeper and deeper.
“Holy fuck, woman,” he murmurs, his voice low, nearly guttural, and he kisses me, fingers tangled roughly, erotically, in my hair. My hands are on his chest, my body arched over his, and when our lips part, our gazes collide, the impact stealing my breath. The air seems to thicken around us, the connection I’ve felt with this man on every one of our encounters, swelling between us, controlling me, and I think him as well. I see it in his eyes, his need, his passion for me. For us.
“Come here,” he orders, and I don’t really remember moving, but his hand is under my hair, around my neck, and our mouths collide in a kiss that feels different now, less about sex and more about emotion.
I feel this kiss in every part of my body, and those butterflies in my belly are back, but they don’t feel like nerves anymore. We begin to move together, a sexy sway and dance, our hands all over each other, and I can’t get close enough to him. I lose time. I lose the ability to worry or fear where this leads. I just want to drink him in, to inhale that spicy scent of his and taste him on my tongue. I don’t want it to end, but he cups my breast and pinches my nipple at the same time that his tongue strokes mine and his cock drives deep inside me. It’s done then. I can’t stop the white-hot fire he’s created or the orgasm that overtakes me.
I sink against him, my face buried in his neck as my body quakes, my sex clenching, pulling against him while he drives into me. He moans as my sex clamps down on him, a hand between my shoulder blades, molding me close. His big, powerful body shakes with release. Time is too fast, and too slow. I fade away, going deeper into the sensations rocking my body.
When, finally, I come back to the present, I feel him there with me, his body relaxing, mine with his, and against him. I’m numb, my limbs heavy, and Reese lays us on the couch, stroking hair from my face. “I’ll be right back,” he says, planting a tender, lingering kiss at my temple before departing. A moment later, the blanket is over me, but I’m still in the previous moment and that tender kiss. Of the many ways this man has affected me this night, that kiss, and even the blanket, affects me the most. I’ve barely had time to process these facts before he is back, condom-less, no doubt.
“The fireplace is on now,” he says, lying down next to me and pulling my back to his chest, my gaze landing on the flames that seem to somehow be inside the window directly across from me.
“I should go,” I murmur.
“I don’t want you to go,” Reese says, hand settling on my hip, his face in my shoulder, by my neck. “Stay, Cat.”
I know I should go. One and done and all. It’s the way you deal with men like Reese. Only he’s holding on to me really tightly. And my lashes are so very heavy.
Chapter fifteen
Cat
Amuffled ringing has me blinking my eyes open, immediately becoming aware of Reese’s big body wrapped around mine while the sound seems to be coming from somewhere on the floor. I blink again, sunlight beaming from around us. Reese is unmoving, completely knocked out. And just as good looking sound asleep as he is wide awake.
I know it’s the morning after, and goodbye should have been last night, but this is over, and I can’t help but touch him one last time. I reach up and trace his lips and then let the rough edges of his one-day stubble brush my skin. He blinks awake and I start to pull away, but he catches my hand. “Good morning,” he says, those blue eyes flecked with amber sunlight, his lips that I was just touching, brushing my knuckles. “How are you?” he asks.
“Better once the awkward morning after is over.”
He laughs. “There is no awkward morning after, Cat. There’s pancakes and coffee, and possibly, no, absolutely, more sex. And I can’t seem to find the awkwardness in any of that, can you?”
One and done, I tell myself. “What are we doing here, Reese?” I ask, but as he shifts slightly, I become aware of an impending need that takes precedence over my question. “Hold that answer. I have no choice but to announce that I have to pee. Really badly.”
“Is that right?” He chuckles.
“Yes. Which means I must request that you immediately remove your leg from my leg and, before I stand up, which always makes these situations worse, direct me to the bathroom.”
