The words were out before he could haul them back and he could feel the shift in her before she even moved—warmth gone, easy gone, the whole damn room drawing tight around one stupid sentence.
“Forget it,” he muttered, quickly.
“No,” she snapped, shoving up on one elbow.“I won’t.Because, yeah, I take it when I want it.From who I want.And you’re trying to what—shame me for that?Like you’re not out here doing the same damn thing?”
He didn’t answer.Just stared at her.
Because the truth was pathetic.No matter how many women he’d had—and there’d been plenty—not one of them ever got under his skin like she did.
“Oh, now you shut up?”she went on, sharp and furious.“I’m sittin’ here covered in your cum, and you’ve got the nerve to call me a slut—and not have nothin’ to say?”
“Yeah, I got somethin’,” he growled, pushing upright.“You wanna spread it around, fine.But don’t look at me like I’m supposed to fuckin’ clap.”
Her eyes went wide.Nostrils flaring, she shoved off the bed.
“Fuck,” Nash muttered, surging after her and catching her arm.
She shrieked, twisting hard, the momentum dragging them both down.She hit the mattress on her stomach and he followed, pinning her there.
“I didn’t mean it,” he ground out.“I just—”
She bucked beneath him, but he caught her wrists and drove them high over her head, holding her taut under his weight.
“Goddammit, Cas,” he rasped, chest heaving against her back.“Just…hold up a sec.”
He’d had her once.Really had her.And she’d loved him hard and loud, and he’d let her go.Thrown her away with both hands because he hadn’t known how to hold on.Because he’d been young and stupid and scared.He’d do it all different now, if the woman would shut up and give him half a goddamn chance.
“Fuck you,” she snarled, twisting her head.“You’re still the same small-town, small-minded—”
Nash dropped his mouth to her neck, teeth catching the spray of freckles there, hard enough to make her hiss.He dragged his tongue over the sting, then sucked deep, marking her.
She writhed beneath him, still fighting.But the harder she twisted, the firmer he held, his weight pinning her flat, his mouth relentless until her curses broke into ragged sounds and her hips arched back against him anyway.
“Maybe I’m small-town,” he growled against her skin, sliding one hand between her thighs, “but you’re the one who can’t stay off my dick.”
“Because it’s a great dick!”she cried, somewhat muffled into the sheets.
His mouth curved.“That’s only half of it.You know the rest.”
“No,” she bit out, even as she arched harder, leg spreading, grinding up into him.“I don’t—”
Her denial broke on a gasp when he shoved forward, sliding inside her in one rough stroke.A choked sound tore from her as her back bowed, taking him deeper.
“Yeah, you do, Strawberry,” he muttered at her ear.“Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”
Cassie’s hands braced hard against the tile, fingers slipping where the water ran.
Nash was all weight and heat behind her—his chest to her back, his mouth at her throat—moving inside her at an lazy pace.
She tipped her head, giving him more, and he answered with teeth—just a graze at first, then harder.She pushed back into it, chasing the sting as it began to sing.
Turning her head, she found his mouth, and the kiss turned hungry fast.His hand came up, closing over her breast, fingers tightening, while the other slid down her stomach and lower.Her hips shifted back; his rhythm built like a phrase—each stroke a little deeper, a little more exact—until—
“Fuck—” The sound tore out of her.
She was already too sore and sensitive for this, already right on the edge, and his hand didn’t let her retreat.He kept her there—kept her in it—until the pleasure caught and ripped through her.Breath stuttering, thighs trembling, she would’ve folded straight to the floor if he hadn’t caught her.
Holding her upright, Nash drove deeper, quicker—his breath rough at her throat—until his body shuddered and he pulled free with a low, strangled sound.
