I feel tendons and muscles work under my skin as she tries to breathe deeper than is possible. “Good,” she has enough oxygen to say. “I want to turn you on.”
She has no fucking idea.
I ease up my grip a little as I use my hold on her to bring her back to my mouth. This time, as our mouths clash again, already bruised lips pressing together, I use my other hand to lift up one of her legs and make space for one of my thighs to go between hers. Like the good girl she is, she grips my leg hungrily and immediately starts to move against me. Balancing more of my weight on my other leg, I lift my knee and press closer, into the heart of her. She mumbles her desperate gratitude into my mouth, and I gobble it up like it’s my favourite food.
Speaking of food. I want to taste her. I want to eat her. I want todevourher. So much so a part of me wants to spin us around and throw her on the bed, rip off those fucking dated flared jeans and tear to pieces whatever underwear she’s wearing – because of course, Cassie Everard is wearing underwear, unlike dirty-girl me – and dive straight into her cunt. But I quieten that part of me down: I tell her to wait, to take her time, to enjoy this because something tells me that’s exactly what’s on offer if I’m just patient for once in my life.
“Oh God,” she gasps as she pushes me away.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, and it is a demand albeit a concerned one, even if it doesn’t exactly sound that way.
“I’m so…” She pauses and closes her eyes. “I was so close to … you know. I had to stop, or I was going to…”
I bite back my laugh, but not my smile. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Her eyes spring open. “Well, it’s so quick. It’s so…” Another trailing off, and yet I’m perfectly able to fill in her blanks.
“Who says it’s too quick for you toorgasm?” I emphasise the word she dare not speak.
“We’re only kissing,” she says, as if that will explain it.
I take a step nearer, bringing my face so close I know she can’t focus on it all, only my eyes, or better, my lips. “Oh, Cassie,” I purr. “You think if you come it will be over?”
She nods, her lips tucked into her mouth like she doesn’t trust herself to talk.
“You don’t know how wrong you are.” I put my hands back on the top curve of her hips, but this time I’m gentle. My touch is featherlight. “If I get my way, you are going to lose count of your orgasms tonight, my English rose. And Cassie?”
“Yeah?” Her voice is a quiver of air and noise.
“I always get what I want,” I say before slamming my mouth back down on hers, where I feel it belongs.
I decide I’ve been patient enough, so I spin us around, and keeping Cassie’s body in motion, I push her down onto the bed. She flops onto the messy coverlet, limbs splayed, and a look of sweet shock on her face. I give her next to no time to compose herself as I climb up on the bed with one of her legs between mine.
“This is how this is going to go…” I let my hair fall down around her face as I stare down at her, my arms straight, propping me up above her. The way she looks up at me, big blue eyes and lips parted, it does nothing to slow down my desire. “I’m going to take your clothes off, and I’m going to be rough about it. I may even tear some of these godawful garments in the process. After that, I’m going to look at you, really take in therealCassie Everard. And then I’m going to put my mouth on whatever part of your prim and perfect body I like. I’m going to use my lips, my tongue and my teeth to make you feel things. And yes, you best believe I fucking bite. I’m going to make it so you have to leave my hotel room wearing my clothes on your body and my teeth marks on your skin. And you…” I stroke her cheek with one of my hands before letting it slip down to grip her neck, the pinch just avoiding her windpipe. “And you are going to tell me to stop when you want me to stop. You are going to tell me when something stops hurting in a good way, and when it starts to feel bad. Can you do that for me, Cassie?”
She nods again, so eager and expressive. Her lips move and she mumbles something I don’t quite catch. I tell myself it’s because she’s still panting and whispering, and it’s not because of my fucked-up hearing.
“Louder, English rose. I need to be able to hear you.”
“Yes, I can do that,” she says, and thank fuck, I hear it perfectly.
“Good,” I say, and then I stop holding my own weight and crash down so the full length of my body is pressed against hers and our mouths are once again glued together.
Her arms immediately wrap around me, tightly, and I didn’t expect it. Or maybe I didn’t expect how it would make me feel. Because it feels so fucking right and so fucking good. It’s the same little buzz of both joy and peace I feel when a riff hits just right. It’s the same thrill I get when I’m in the shower and the perfect line comes to me, the kind that has me walking out of the water and repeating the line non-stop until I find a pen and a piece of paper, not giving a shit how wet I get the floor or furniture. It’s the same hint of ecstasy I feel when I’m performing, fans screaming, lights flashing, the applause deafening.
Cassie spreads her legs, and I move into the space she creates. We rock together, rutting into one another, and I love how she doesn’t hold back. She’s really chasing her high now, and if her kisses weren’t so fucking intoxicating, I would pull back just to watch what it does to her face when she’s getting closer and closer. But I mean to keep the promise I made to her. This will not be her first climax, and later, there will be at least one orgasm where my eyes are on her and I get to watch it all.
“Oh, Pia, oh! Oh, my…!” she calls out as she throws her head back, and I dive into kiss her neck. I angle my pelvis so there’s more pressure where she needs it.
“Come for me, pretty girl,” I hiss into her throat. Her skin is silky smooth and so hot. I find her pulse point – thumping as hard as a bass drum – and I lick it.
“Oh, Jesus, yes,” she gasps. “Oh my God, so good, so, so good, oh, oh, oh!”
Her hips thrust up to meet mine, and she wraps her legs around me, holding me in place. Those thrusts then turn into trembles and shakes, and then finally she’s still, except for her chest heaving against mine. The whole time, I keep my mouth on her neck. I nibble, I graze, I lick, I kiss. I even whisper her name into her skin, because I like how it feels on my tongue, but I do it quietly enough she can’t hear.
Cassie speaks, but again I don’t catch it. I need to tell her to stop mumbling.
“Speak up, English rose,” I say as I push up and bend my elbows to hold my weight.
