Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(90)

I took him into my mouth and felt him flex inside me, growing even fuller. The taste of him was so intoxicating. His skin was like catnip and the more I had of it the more I needed. I looked up at him to see him watching me in wonder, his jaw ticking and every glorious muscle from my face to his was in full view.

I moaned around his cock, the sight of him like this stealing the remnant of every wayward thought from my head. It was only him and me. This night was for us.

I moved to a slow beat, enjoying every twitch, every breath he took while I pleasured him. He stood anchored in his spot. He brushed my hair back away from me, threaded his fingers through it, and pushed himself deep inside me before he pulled out of me and urgently pulled me up his decadent body. He kissed me, still holding my head in his hands with my hair. It was rough and his chest rose and fell in time with mine.

“Go lay down over there, Blake. I want to play with my Valentines’ gift.” A shiver ran through me. He released my hair and I backed up without looking at where I was going. My body on autopilot, I did what I was told.

I felt brazen and daring. I felt like I was living a fantasy. I leaned back on my elbows and drew my legs up then parted them like I'd dreamt of doing so many nights on the phone.

He came to crouch next to me and took stock of the table’s offerings.

“May I have a drink, honeybee? Good choice with the cognac. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were sentimental.” His voice was rich with sensuality, but his eyes were alight with happiness. He was going to play with me. I was his toy tonight. His toy.

He fixed himself a drink. Two pieces of ice clanked in the glass, then two fingers of the sweet liquor followed. He brought the short glass to his lips and hummed his pleasure at the taste.

I was on fire and the anticipation of him touching me was thrumming through my veins.

His shirt was open and his pants, although still undone in the front were pulled back up.

The runaway lock of hair, which had broken formation from the rest, was gathering company from us running our hands through it.

While I'd been studying him, I hadn't paid attention to my wandering hand that was now rubbing my breast. My mouth was open and I was nearly panting.

After he drank down half of the glass, he touched my leg at the knee and leisurely ran his fingers up the skin to my thigh. His barely there touch wasn't enough.

I wanted more. I needed more.

I spread my legs farther for him and unabashedly ran my hand to my sex. I rubbed myself over my panties trying to satisfy a need that was blazing deep inside me. His eyes watched me touch myself and I saw that his desire matched mine. The usually cool and easy-going Casey, was again gone, and in his place was the take-control lover I dreamed about nearly every night.

On his knees he climbed closer to me, between my legs, and his hand met mine.

“I want you, Casey.”

He replied, with a firm demanding voice, “Say it again.”

“I want you.”

Maybe it was the ambiance and romantic mood of the room. Maybe I felt so free because it was, decidedly, my last time with him.

That singular thought made me panic and I had to remind myself why. I had to recite in my head, Because you're marrying another man. Because Casey only likes chasing you. Because he doesn't want the same things you do. He doesn't want a family. He doesn't want a home. He likes traveling and being carefree.

And it was those exact things that made me believe I had to leave him and made my heart retch to let him go. Because he would never offer me anything different and I could no longer live with the desperate yearning I had for him, that was entwined with my deeper desires for home, future, and stability.

Then he caught me and halted the runaway train that was my thoughts.

“I told you, honeybee. No thinking like that.”

Had I said all that out loud? Or was it possible my thoughts were loud enough to hear.

Still, even though my mind was playing chess with itself, my body and heart never strayed. They belonged to him.

“Then kiss me. Distract me.”

He reached for the table and his glass, emptying it in his mouth and I watched as he downed every last drop, including the ice. Returning the empty glass to the table, his eyes found mine and I saw a hint of mischief.

He dipped his head to my neck. The sensation was hot, but I could feel the coolness of the ice at the same time. He kissed my chest and when he took my nipple into his mouth the ice across my warm flesh sent a rush of need straight through me. I bucked my hips trying to find the pressure and friction I craved, but he backed away and down my body, taking his ice with him.