Page 109 of False Catch

I drop to my knees on the rough gravel, pulling her with me until she’s perched on the edge of the bike seat, thighs parted. The sight of her above me—hair messy from my hands, lips kiss-swollen, chest heaving—is enough to make my cock ache, but I’m greedy for more. I want to bury myself in her until she can’t say my name without trembling.

Her jeans are in my way. I make quick work of the button and zipper, dragging them down over her hips with a growl. She lifts, helping me strip them past her knees, and I leave them tangled around her ankles because I don’t have the patience to bother. Her panties are damp, clinging to her in a way that makes my mouth water.

“Fuck,” I groan, pressing my face close, breathing her in. The sharp sweetness of her slick hits my tongue before I even touch her, and it nearly wrecks me.

“Cameron—” she gasps, already restless, hips shifting forward like she’s begging me not to tease.

“No one’s ever gonna eat you the way I will,” I promise, and then I press my mouth against the soaked cotton, licking her through the fabric just to hear her choke on a sound that’s halfway between a sob and a moan.

Her fingers bury in my hair, tugging hard, urging me closer. I give in, dragging her panties to the side and finally getting what I’ve been starving for. My tongue slides between her folds, hot and slick, and she nearly comes off the seat.

“God, you taste—” I can’t finish the thought because I’m already lapping at her again, greedy and unrestrained. I fuck her with my tongue, then swirl up to her clit, sucking lightly until she cries out.

She’s trembling, thighs tightening around my head, but I don’t stop. I eat like a man possessed, moaning against her, letting her grind against my mouth. Each sound she makes drives me harder, faster, until she’s gasping broken pieces of my name, rocking into me shamelessly.

When she finally shatters, it’s violent—her back arching, thighs clamping around me, voice breaking on a scream. I hold her there, sucking her through it, licking every drop until she’s shaking too hard to keep herself upright.

I ease back only when she pushes weakly at my hair, her voice trembling. “Cameron… please… too much.”

I kiss the inside of her thigh, slow, reverent, then push up to my feet. My chin is wet, my mouth slick with her taste, and she looks at me like I’ve just rewritten the laws of her universe.

“You’re incredible,” she whispers, still breathless.

“So are you,” I growl, dragging her back against me, letting her feel how hard I am. “But I’m not done.”

Her gaze flicks down, and a wicked smile curves her lips. “Then let me taste you.”

The words punch the air from my lungs. For a second, all I can do is stare at her, caught between restraint and pure, feral want. Then she’s sliding off the bike, sinking to her knees in front of me on the gravel without hesitation. The sight alone nearly makes me blow.

“Reese—” My voice is already frayed, warning and begging at once.

She just smirks up at me, fingers working open my jeans. “You let me have this,” she says softly. “You trust me too.”

That undoes me more than anything else. I nod, jaw tight, and let her pull me free. My cock springs out, hard and aching, the head already slick. Her eyes darken at the sight, lips parting like she’s been craving this as much as I have.

Then her mouth is on me.

I groan, head tipping back as she takes me deep, hot and wet and perfect. Her tongue swirls around the head before sliding down the length, and I swear my knees nearly give. Her hands anchor at my hips, steady and confident, and then she sets a rhythm—slow, deliberate, dragging every sound out of me until I’m cursing into the night air.

“Fuck, Reese,” I grit out, fingers digging into her hair. “You’re gonna kill me.”

She hums around me like it’s a challenge, and the vibration has me jerking forward, fighting not to thrust too hard. She takes me deeper, choking slightly, but instead of pulling back she moans like she loves it.

I force my eyes down, needing to see her—on her knees in the dirt, hair a mess, eyes watering, mouth stretched around my cock. It’s the filthiest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I know I’ll never recover from it.

When she pulls back, lips shining, she licks me slow from base to tip, then meets my gaze with a grin that’s all hunger. “Told you,” she whispers, voice ruined. “I love this.”

Any control I had left disintegrates.

I haul her up, kissing her hard, tasting myself on her tongue. She moans into it, clinging to me, and I press her back against the bike again, cock dragging against her thigh, wet and desperate.

“Reese,” I rasp, forehead pressed to hers, “if we keep going, there’s no coming back.”

She smiles, fierce and unshaken. “Good.”

Clothes scatter across the gravel like casualties. Her shirt, her jeans, my jacket, my belt—we strip each other down with frantic hands, mouths clashing between every tug of fabric. By the time I haul her back onto the bike, she’s bare in front of me, nipples tight in the night air, my marks already littering her chest and throat. Her pussy glistens with my spit and her cum.

“On,” I order, jerking my chin towards the bike, my voice gravel-thick.