Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
And, damn, did the man look good in the daylight. I got to see all that stupid good-looking-ness.
“So, it’s Rynn, is it?”
Ugh.
My name had no right to sound that good coming out of his mouth.
“Names don’t matter,” I said, lying.
“No?” he asked, head cocked to the side. “Mattered to me when you were moaning my name last night.”
“But you had no need to know my name,” I said. “Things were working fine without that.”
“Were they?” he asked, brows pinched.
“For me, yes,” I said, shrugging. Only partially lying. Not exchanging name and numbers complicated things. It meant that, at first, we had to rely on fate to bring us together. Then, my own desperation to drive out to Golden Glades for a little sex session. Life would be easier if I could just text him to come over for a little stress relief.
“What’s the matter, Rynn?” he asked, taking slow steps toward me. A predator stalking his prey. “Worried you’ll get attached if we know names and numbers?”
“Oh, please,” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, pretending a little shiver didn’t move through me as he got closer.
“Sure ran off like you were scared of something last night,” he said, stopping right in front of me, standing close enough to force me to crane my head up to keep eye contact.
“What the hell could I possibly be scared of?” I shot back.
“Catching feelings.”
I let out a mocking laugh at that, rolling my eyes for good measure. “Get over yourself, Cato,” I said.
“Rather have you over me,” he said with a sexy smirk before he was bending down, snagging me behind the knees, and yanking up. A little squeal escaped me as my arms grabbed for him instinctively as he lifted me off my feet, holding me against him, then walking me backward toward the couch.
There was none of the exploration of the night before.
Hands roamed, gripped, slapped.
My lips pressed, his tongue teased, and his teeth nipped.
I was pushed damn near to the edge before his hands even slid up under my skirt, toying with my clit in an unhurried pace, before two fingers slid inside of me. My hips rocked against his touch, needing more, needing the feel of him.
Pulling away, I kicked out of my shoes, reached under my skirt, and pulled down my panties, watching as Cato pulled out his cock, stroking it a few times, then sliding on a condom as he watched me.
I was about to climb over him again when I suddenly thought better of it.
Because as much as I scoffed at the very idea, some part of me was actually worried about catching feelings.
It wasn’t something I’d ever needed to worry about before, but there was a real potential of it now.
Enough that I was worried about forming an attachment through sex, something I was usually able to disconnect emotions from.
So instead of moving over him, I turned, then moved to straddle him, but facing away, suddenly needing that disconnect.
Cato said nothing, likely just excited that I was the experimental sort, and started to rub his cock up my pussy, teasing across my clit until I was whimpering and writhing again, finally getting lost in the moment and out of my own head.
His cock shifted back, then slid inside, and the position had him stroking across my G-spot as he settled, making a deep moan escape me.
I paused for just a moment before I started to ride him, working him quickly, keeping myself in the moment and out of my head, getting lost in the sensations as his fingers dug into my hips, guiding me to go faster and faster as the orgasm started to build.
It crashed through me with an intensity that had me crying out and falling back against his chest, gasping for breath.
As usual, though, Cato wasn’t done. He was still hard inside of me.
“You gonna give me another?” he asked, his deep voice in my ear, his warm breath tickling the shell of it, making a little shiver move through me. Not an inward one, either. One he felt. One that had a little approving rumble moving through him.
Then he was shifting, taking me with him as he gained his feet.
His hands were on my hips, holding me close, keeping his cock inside of me, even as my whole upper body bent forward, my hands landing on the coffee table to steady myself as he started to fuck me.
Hard.
Fast.
The sounds of us filling the room, quickly drowned out by my moans, and Cato’s groans as we built up together.
“Fucking perfect pussy,” he hissed, making my walls tighten in response. “You gonna squeeze my cock again?” he asked, even as my orgasm started to crest, and then do just that.
Taking him with me this time.
“Fuck, Rynn,” he hissed afterward, his hands still on my hips, and I was pretty sure that was the only thing holding me back from falling forward right then, because my hands weren’t even on the table anymore, just hanging limply in the air as my body hinged away from Cato’s.