And it doesn’t take long.
With his lips wrapped around my cock, his fingers rubbing over my ass, and his subtle gags and low moans vibrating through me as he swallows me whole, I can’t hold back any longer.
“I’m gonna come,” I pant, slipping a hand into his hair and gripping tight as heat builds fast. My legs lock, and my muscles twitch as everything winds tighter and tighter inside me.
A groan rips from deep inside me as I come in his mouth, and he doesn’t stop. He moves his hands to my hips and takes over, bobbing on my cock and milking me for every last drop like heneedsit. Every touch and every flick of his tongue are both torture and salvation… he’s dragging me through the fucking fire, just to show me I’ll survive it.
Then he releases me from his mouth and rises to his feet. When he lifts a hand to wipe his mouth, I catch his wrist to stop him. My eyes stay locked on his glistening lips as I step in and run my tongue along his bottom lip, tasting myself on him. Then I slide my tongue into his mouth andkiss him like he belongs to me.
Because he does.
When I release him, his eyes find mine again, and for a brief moment, I see past the wall. He’s open, unguarded, and it almost looks like he wants to let me in. But then his gaze drops, and he bends down to retrieve his pants from the floor.
I smile and step back so he can pull them on, and watch as the wall slowly rebuilds itself, brick by brick, with every movement he makes.
But that’s ok.
Because I know how to tear it down. And now I know how I’m going to keep it down.
I grab my pants and pull them on as he buttons the last button on his shirt, then watches me calmly as I do up my belt and find my own shirt. He doesn’t say a word as I finish getting dressed, just stands there with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. The cool, composed version of him is now firmly back in place, as if I didn’t just take him apart piece by piece.
But the flicker in his eyes as I take my gun from the desk and holster it at my side tells me everything I need to know. He may be back in control now, but it’s threat and chaos that open him up.
I shrug my cut on over my shoulders and flash him a smile as I tug it into place.
“Always a joy, Doc.”
He huffs, his lips just barely quirking up in a lopsided smile as he gives a subtle nod. But I don’t move. I stand right where I am, waiting for the question I know is coming.
Because we both know this is just the beginning.
He stares right back at me, arms still crossed. But I’ve found the weak point in the structure… and I know I’m getting closer to breaking through.
Cade’s eyes flick down to the name badge stitched to my cut, then lift back to mine. “So,” he says easily, meeting my gaze again with a cool indifference. “What’s your name?”
I let a slow, crooked smile slide across my lips. Then I turn towards the door and take my time crossing the room. But when I get there, I glance back over my shoulder, just in time tocatch the faint crease of confusion tug at his brow as I grip the doorknob.
“Alder,” I say.
Then I step into the hall and close the door behind me, catching the sound of scattered footsteps and hushed whispers.
This should be fun.
ELEVEN
Tick,tick, tick…
The second hand of the clock snaps forward, each tick sharp, grating, and digging deep into my skull. I stare at it where it hangs above the fireplace, and its steady rhythm mocks the stillness in my chest. My fingers restlessly tap against the side of my now-empty glass, matching the slow, maddening cadence of the clock, like a metronome for my unravelling patience.
Tick, tick, tick…
It needs to hurry the fuck up.
I drag a hand down my face, the faint burn of my first drink already fading from my tongue, leaving behind nothing but the dull, familiar ache for more.
Fuck it.
I lean forward to grab the bottle of whiskey from the coffee table and tip a generous pour into my glass. It’s only my second drink of the afternoon, and somehow, that feels like an achievement worth noting. As if making it to 6:00 PM on a Saturday at home before giving in deserves some kind of medal.
