The Room Mate (Roommates #1)(31)
“Your mouth . . . it feels so good. Right there.”
Using broad strokes, I flattened my tongue against her, moving in a dizzying rhythm as her cries of pleasure grew louder. And then she was coming apart, pushing her hands into my hair and riding my face. It was a beautiful moment that seemed to last and last; each time I thought she was through, another low moan of ecstasy pushed past her lips and her body gave another tremble. Several moments later, when I slid up beside her, Paige was still gasping for breath, covering her face with one hand.
“Don’t hide from me.” I took her hand and kissed the back of it before placing it on my cock.
“Cannon . . .” She moaned, curling her hand around me.
All the pent-up lust and attraction from the past week crashed through me at once. “I need you,” I hissed as she continued stroking me in long pulls.
“Yes.” She rose to her knees, reaching for the bedside drawer. With trembling fingers, she produced an unopened box of condoms.
“Those won’t fit, princess. I’ll be right back.” In ten seconds flat, I was back, sheathed in latex, and joined her on the bed. She’d stripped off her T-shirt, and for several moments, I just stared at her, took my fill of what I was sure was going to be a one-time lapse of judgment on her part. I still couldn’t believe she was going to let me fuck her.
I lay back on the pillows, urging Paige into my lap. I held the base of my dick with one hand and guided her closer with the other. And then it was happening—the tight clench of her muscles around me, a sigh of pleasure pushing past her lips, and blissfully, no one to interrupt us.
“That’s it, nice and slow.” I bit down, my jaw ticking as she slowly—painfully slowly—lowered herself onto my cock. She seemed determined to take me to the hilt.
Finally, with a low whimper, I bottomed out inside her. Fuck.
“Christ, Paige.” Her body fit me like a tight glove, and I was unprepared for how right and perfect she felt. Her hair fell around us in a silken curtain as I brought her mouth down to mine again.
She was so needy and responsive, matching my thrusts and creating a rhythm of her own. Watching her was like viewing my own private erotic show. Her head dropped back between her shoulders, thrusting her breasts out for my waiting hands.
When Paige had called me out—suggested we sleep together to prove her point—of course I’d been game. But I’d had no idea it would be like this. I thought it would be like placing a checkmark in a box, a shot at living out my teenage fantasy.
But with her warm, pliable body writhing above mine, pushing her hips down harder and faster, her fingers clutching my skin, her soft, broken voice pleading for more—it was so much more than that. It was as if her every response to me was magnified, and I was watching it through a lens. My heart beat heavy and loud, my blood pumping hot and fast. I never wanted this to stop. And it was going to end way too soon if I didn’t slow us down.
I remembered that she’d said it had been a while, and I wanted to make sure this was good for her. Placing my hands on her hips, I eased her pace. “Come here, beautiful.”
She climbed down with a pout, like a princess booted from her throne, but she lay down on the bed where I directed her.
“We’re just getting started,” I reassured her, pressing a kiss to her full mouth. For a moment I worried if kissing her was too much, too intimate. But right then, I didn’t care.
Paige closed her eyes and kissed me back, a sweet sigh on her lips.
Chapter Seventeen
Paige
Cannon was kissing me. Deep, drugging kisses that made my toes curl.
But then he pressed into me again, pushing my thighs apart, gripping my hips and plunging forward, and I forgot about everything else. The sensation of him entering me was unlike anything else. And the look of determined concentration on his face, like he was almost in pain with how good it felt? I understood that exactly. It was almost too much to bear.
His every movement was controlled, each one designed to bring me maximum pleasure. I never wanted this to end.
“Has anyone ever fucked you like this?”
“No. Never.” That was the honest truth. He was so deep and so possessive, so vocal, commanding my attention and demanding submission. It was like fitting a key into a locked box.
Watching his thick length spear me—part me, plunge deep inside and then withdraw, wet with our juices—was almost obscene. When he bottomed out, I ground my hips against his pelvis, lost to the sensation. Allie’s little brother fucked like a porn star. That wasn’t a piece of knowledge I’d ever recover from. Shit!
“This pussy is mine right now. Isn’t it, princess?”
“Yes, yours.”
The way he’d pushed me outside my comfort zone, taking charge and making me tell him every stray thought, feeling, and emotion running through my brain while he pleasured me . . . it was too much, and yet I wanted more.
“Say my name when we fuck.”
“It’s yours, Cannon.”
He grunted something like praise against my neck and began pushing harder, faster, until we were both racing toward climax.
Fairly certain he would leave fingertip bruises on my hips, I pushed harder and faster against him, wanting to see those marks on my skin later. I wanted the physical reminder of what we’d done, if only to make sure I hadn’t dreamed this.