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“Gage, did you⁠—”

“Fuck that,” I growl, slide along her cheek, and murmur in her ear, “I’m not goddamn stopping.”

CHAPTER 27

Jubilee

I’m feeling pretty fucking honored right now. Not because it’s my first time.

Because it’s his.

“Gage,” I whisper as he comes out to his crown, my slick opening trying to suck him back in. His cum seeps out of me, leaking all over my thighs and the floor. “I was your first.” I stare at him, at the unchecked hunger in his face.

“And my last.”

With that, he hammers inside me again. God, thanks to how wet I am, he slides in with such ease, but the way he’s stretching me, I’ve never felt so full. And it’s never been this incredible. Not that I have much to compare to since the couple of times were at the club in a darkened corner—quick, meaningless fucks.

Nothing like this.

He kisses me again, and he’s more demanding than ever, his tongue conquering with an aggression unlike any other time he’s kissed me. And when he moves!—he’s a prodigy, innately finding my G-spot, how much force to use, the precise pulse of the rhythm. Of course, only Gage Cannon would be a fucking prodigy at fucking without having ever done it. Yeah, that kind of pisses me off. Just a little.

He slides in and out, rocking me against the wall. Never mind. Not pissed at all.

His arms cage me in, the strength of his body holding me here against the wall. The sheer bulk of Gage Cannon overshadows my form. The sinews in his forearms thrum with his craving.

The more he fucks me, the more the pressure swirls low in me, coiling tighter in my womb. My pale breasts rub against the tattoos on his chest, my nipples rasping against the thick, coarse hairs.

And with his tongue dueling mine, his rigid cock thrusting into me with that fine-tuned pressure and tempo, all my inner muscles clamp down, spasming around him. I tip my head back, breaking the kiss as I drag in rapid gusts of air, the sensations rushing my blood and igniting every cell in my body with pure, utter bliss.

“Oh. My. God!” I cry out, my fingers digging into the carved globes of his ass.

He unleashes a throaty grunt. All the breath is ripped from me when Gage takes both my hands in his, shoves them against the wall above my head, and—unleashes himself. Before? He wasn’t fucking me. He was preparing me.

His weight crushes my body, his mouth attacks mine, all the while he’s hammering into me, pounding me with a delicious brutality I never could have expected from him. Wicked thrusts. Hard steel cock striking me like thunder.

“Fuuuuck!” I cry, the sound muffled.

He pauses, but the gleam in his eyes is the most devilish I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to tear up this pussy tonight, Princess. I’m going to make every scrap of it red and beating and burning like a second heart. I’m going to fuck you all night in this abyss. And I won’t fucking stop until neither one of us can walk. I’m going to ruin you for all others.”

I buck against him, giving him hell, but he doesn’t release me. “Too late. You already ruined me. But by all means, do your damn well worst, Cannon.” I grind down on his dick, squeezing harder and grinning when his jaw hardens and his eye twitches.

“Brat,” he growls.

“Pretentious perfectionist,” I taunt.

“Uncivilized little savage.”

“Coaster-obsessed dictator.”

He comes all the way out, bobs his brows, and I suck in a sharp gasp—right before he strikes, thrusting with the force of a battering ram. “Shiii—ahh!” I shriek. And my shriek careens right into a scream as he mauls my throat, teeth dragging, sinking in with a sudden, stinging bite here and there. I try to ride him, but his dominance overpowers any thread of my attempts.

Gage Cannon has waited all his life for this night. I’ll goddamn give it to him—as long as I can give him hell at the same time.

Those teeth find my nipple, burning the hard tip, but he soothes it with his tongue a second later. Somehow, he fucks me through it all, filling my inflamed pussy, tearing it up just like he promised. Violating, burning, searing himself inside me. My legs can barely hold themselves around his big waist.

Can’t fucking believe he’s mine. This infuriating, impossible, internet-famous pastry chef and cat dad—a thirst trap of muscles for miles—with millions of followers who’d sell their ovaries just to lick frosting off his fingers…is mine.

One more lick of his tongue to my nipple and another grind of his cock, and I lose it. He does, too. All sense of his rhythm snaps. The orgasm explodes through my body like a thousand percussion drums of heat and pressure. I spiral through fire and color while his cock slams deeper, spilling more cum into me.