“Yeah, the first one, because I owe you at least two more. One for an apology, one because I love that beautiful pussy of yours and one because you make my dick so hard I can barely see straight.”
She drew in a ragged, needy breath, her nipples pebbling against the silk of her blouse and silently turned to lead me to her room.
It was bathed in the golden light of early evening, casting Cassidy in amber shadows as I slowly undressed her. I unfastened each button of her blouse with deliberate care, my knuckles grazing against the soft skin beneath. Each newly exposed inch of skin received my focused attention—a kiss here, a gentle touch there. I traced the delicate lace edge of her bra with my fingertip, watching goosebumps rise in my wake.
“Cold?” I asked, my voice low.
“Not even close,” she breathed, her pupils dilating as I slid the blouse from her shoulders.
I lowered my mouth to the curve of her neck, right where it met her shoulder, relishing in the taste of her, a hint of perfume and salt. “You taste even better than I remembered,” I murmured, tracing my tongue along her collarbone.
Her hands tugged at my shirt. “Too many clothes.”
I stepped back enough to pull my shirt over my head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. I drew in a ragged breath as she ran her palms over the planes of my chest. My heart beat a steady rhythm as her warm hands caressed the ridges of my muscles.
“God, I missed touching you,” she whispered. Her thumb circled my nipple, and I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me.
I unhooked her bra, sliding the straps down her arms. The sight of her breasts, flushed and perfect, almost brought the animal out in me that wanted to devour her, but my desire to take our time was more powerful. “Beautiful,” I breathed, cupping their weight in my palms.
When I lowered my head to take one nipple into my mouth, Cassidy gasped, her fingers threading through my hair. I swirled my tongue around the sensitive peak before lightly grazing it with my teeth.
“Gunner.” She arched into my touch, her fingertips tightening.
I stepped back just enough to help her out of her remaining clothes before quickly shedding my own, discarding them into a pile at our feet, before gently guiding her backward to the bed.
“Lie down for me, sweetheart,” I said, my voice rough and full of the pain I was feeling in my balls.
She complied, moving to the center of the bed, her honey-gold skin glowing in the fading light of the room and I followed. Crawling over her but pausing to press kisses up her inner thigh.
“What are you—” Her question cut off with a sharp intake of breath as my tongue found her center.
I took my time savoring her taste, making her gasp and moan, as she pulled me closer by my hair. When I added two fingers as well, her thighs began to tremble.
“Don’t stop,” she begged, one hand slapping onto the mattress and fisting the comforter. “Please Gunner.”
I increased the pressure and pace, driven by the erotic, sinful sounds coming from her parted lips until she finally came apart, crying out my name. Pride swelled in my chest that I’d brought her that pleasure so before she’d fully recovered, I moved up her body, positioning myself between her thighs.
“Look at me.” I commanded.
Her whisky eyes, hazy with pleasure, locked onto mine as I slowly pushed inside her. The feeling of her tight heat surrounding me was almost too much.
“Fuck,” I breathed, struggling for control. “You feel incredible.”
Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper. “Move,” she urged, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I started with slow, deep thrusts, watching her face, memorizing every flicker of pleasure. When her mouth opened on a gasp, I knew I’d hit just the right spot.
“You like that, do you?” I asked, angling to hit it again.
“Oh my God, yes.” Her words were hurried like if she didn’t tell me I might change the pace or the position.
I didn’t, though, I kept the same punishing rhythm, fighting to hold back my own release until I felt her tightening around me again. “Come for me sweetheart,” I encouraged, sliding a hand between us. “And make it fucking loud.”
My finger had barely touched her before her second orgasm ripped through her, triggering my own and I buried my face in her neck as I came. Her name was a prayer on my lips as we clung to each other through the aftershocks, neither of us willing to let go.
As our breathing gradually slowed, I rolled to my side, keeping her close against my chest. My fingers tracing lazy patterns along her spine, committing every curve to memory.
“Stay with me,” Cassidy breathed as I moved above her.
