“What’s my name?” I ask, slapping my hands on his shoulders, trying to stop him. I know that once he starts, I won’t be able to think straight enough to ask him.
“That’s your question?” he asks with another grin. Damn it, he has the best smiles.
“You want me to call you, Cade,” I respond with a shrug. “I think I’d like for you to return the favor. And if you don’t know my name…” I don’t finish my thought, and I can hear the change in my tone, too. It would hurt me to think he doesn’t know my name. I mean, I know this is happening at the speed of light, but if he can’t remember it right before we make—right before we have sex—then it has to be a sign that this is nothing more than a booty call and I will plan accordingly. That thought definitely stings a little. This should serve as a warning sign to my tired brain, but I choose to ignore it.
“Finley,” he murmurs, and his voice is soft. This time there’s no humor in it and until right this second, I didn’t realize my eyes were closed. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
I let out a shaky breath and force myself to do exactly that. He’s staring up at me and for the first time since meeting him, the cockiness is gone and replaced by a gentleness on his face that somehow manages to seep inside of me, filling cracks I didn’t know I had.
“Finley Akers, twenty-eight, born in Montello, Nevada, sister to one irritating bastard, that I like despite the fact he’s an asshole. Red hair that looks like copper, sexy freckles scattered over her body in a way that I want to kiss every single one of them, gorgeous curves, killer tits, and a sassy mouth that turns me on almost as much as her body.”
“You know where I’m from and my age?” I ask, surprised, although I’m mostly distracted by the way he described me. I mean, in Cade’s rough way, I think he likes me. It sounds like he even thinks I’m pretty.
What girl wouldn’t want the hot as fuck man on his knees in front of her to think she was pretty?
I’m definitely in trouble here. I’m also about to get laid for the first time in a very long time.
“I called my club and had our tech guy tell me about Heavy, specifically his little sister. You told me you were almost twenty-seven. I may spank you later for lying to me, by the way.”
I purse my lips together. I’m starting to think that Cade is a lot sharper than I gave him credit for. “No girl wants to tell the hot as fuck man that she may or may not like that she’s approaching the big three-o. I mean, that’s not horribly old and thirty is supposed to be the new twenty, but—”
“Finley, as much as I’m enjoying this conversation, I have my face near your pussy. I can smell how much you want me, and I want you just the same. I think I’ve proved that I definitely know you. Do you think we can cut the chit-chat until after I eat your sweet pussy out?”
“You can smell me?” I squeak, moving a hand down between my legs to act as a shield of sorts between us. I mean, I am really wet, and I want him more than I could even begin to explain, but I mean, geez. Did he have to say he could smell me?
“Yeah, we’re done here,” Cade growls, startling me out of my discomfort. At first, I think he’s leaving and that he’s tired of all of my questions. Then, I feel his hand on my hip. He throws one of my legs over his shoulder. I wobble for a minute, before leaning back so the wall can take my weight.
“Cade,” I gasp, my hands resting on his shoulders to steady myself, as he grabs a hold of the waistline of my panties, pulling on them, tearing the lace fabric as if it was nothing more than paper.
“Fuck, yeah, Finley, I’m going to love hearing you moan my name when I’m eating out this sweet pussy,” he growls as cool air hits my heated center.
There’s no starting slow for Cade. I feel my panties leave my body, as his fingers are baring me to him. His tongue flattens against my pussy as he licks me. I let out a startled cry, but it quickly turns into a moan as he finds my clit and begins kissing it, sucking, teasing…
My fingers bury into his hair as he begins to work his magic. My hips rock erotically, as I begin to thrust into him, needing more of whatever he will give me. He growls as I tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. He pulls his face away, making me cry out. I yank at his hair, desperate to have him back where I need him.
“Take the fucking shirt off, Red,” he growls. I could pout because he doesn’t use my given name, but the truth is I don’t give a fuck as long as he doesn’t stop. I yank Larry’s shirt over my head like it was on fire, throwing it down on the floor, panting, my gaze on Cade’s. His face is wet with the proof of my desire, and maybe I should be embarrassed, but I’m not.
I just want more.
“That’s my girl,” he praises. He groans as his fingers push inside of me, making my breath stall in my chest. My heart stutters back to life as pleasure hits me with an intensity I have never—in all of my life—ever felt before. Right now, I want to be his girl more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
He begins fucking me with his fingers, pushing in and out of me at a steady pace, working my body like I’m an instrument, and he’s conducting the most beautiful concerto in existence.
It’s that good.
His fingers spread apart inside of me, stretching me and my eyes nearly roll back in my head as I envision his cock stretching me like that.
“Don’t stop,” I demand, desperate, willing to do nearly anything as long as he keeps the pleasure coming.
“You’re so fucking wet, Finley. I could drink from you for days,” he moans, before I can tell him I’d be totally okay with that—hell, I’d beg—he takes his fingers away, grabs hold of my hips with each of his hands, the pressure firm, harsh, and probably bruising.
“Cade,” I whimper.
He lays back on my kitchen floor, taking me with him and forcefully positions me so I’m sitting on his face. I feel it all in that moment.
Hunger, need, euphoria, gratitude, tenderness, mindlessness, panic, fear.
You name it. If it’s an emotion, Cade has it barreling through me. There’s no time to question it, however, because I feel his fingers and his tongue torturing me, his face pressed tight into my most intimate areas so firmly that even his nose can bring pleasure. I feel a gush of wetness as my climax begins to build, hear Cade moan as he sucks on my clit, drinking me in.
I ride his face. There’s no other way to describe it. I ride him hard, my thighs tightening on him as if I’m in the damn rodeo and he’s a fucking stallion that will take me to the championship. I could be smothering him, drowning him, or maybe a combination of the two, but I can’t worry about it. There’s no way to stop, no way to call this to a halt. Instead, my hips are rocking viciously, as I grind down on him. Cade’s hands are holding me tightly to his face as he relentlessly feasts on my pussy.
“Fuck, yes,” I hiss. “Eat me. Eat my pussy,” I demand, my hands slap down on the floor as I get basically down on all fours, riding on his face like a porn star. I’ve never been this way, never been this far gone, but I can’t hold back. I have to have more. “Cade,” I breathe, as he gives me all I ask for and more. His hands move to my ass. He apparently doesn’t think I’m moving my body fast enough and tries to take over. He angles me, shifting my body the smallest of amounts, but in a way that makes the pleasure even more extreme. I feel his fingers return inside of me, and a finger—fuck maybe two—enters my ass. My head goes back, my fingers teasing my nipples, the world around me dimming, as the onslaught of carnal decadence hits me.