Page 101 of Cross Checked
“That’s it,” his voice vibrated against me, the words muffled but clear.
“Cade…”
“Don’t make it pretty for me. I want the real sounds.”
“Bossy.”
“Still not an insult.”
He ate me with the same determination as he played hockey, and he was fucking amazing at both. His arms slid under my thighs, his hands gripping my hips, holding me open, holding me right where he wanted me. The pleasure built fast, too fast, a coil tightening low in my belly. I was panting, my fingers twisting in my own sheets.
“Cade… oh…”
He hummed against me, the vibration wringing another broken sound from my throat. “Sounds even prettier in person.”
I pushed myself up higher, onto my hands, needing to see. His dark head was between my legs, his shoulders flexing as he worked. The sight alone was almost enough to push me over.
This was something I had never had. Luke never made me feel this or want this as bad as I did with Cade right here.
Instinct took over. I let go of the sheets and sank my fingers into his hair, not pushing, just holding as I sat up so I could look down and watch. The sight of his enormous body between my legs was a satisfaction all its own.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice ragged. “Right there, please, right there.”
He groaned his approval, his grip on my hips tightening. “I got you, Pip.”
He lifted me, just an inch, adjusting the angle, and then his tongue dove deeper, faster. I was half-sitting now, holding his head to me, my thighs trembling around his ears. I started to move, small, desperate thrusts of my hips, meeting the relentless rhythm of his tongue.
He helped me, his arms taking more of my weight, supporting me in that suspended, vulnerable position as I fucked myself against his face.
“Fuck yeah, Pip. Fuck my face.”
The dirty, wet sounds filled the room, mixed with my gasps and his low, encouraging grunts.
“Cade!”
It was a scream, torn from somewhere deep, as the coil snapped. Pleasure detonated, white-hot and blinding, rushing through every nerve ending. I convulsed, my back bowing, my hold on his hair turning desperate as waves of it crashed over me, again and again, pulled from me by his unwavering, smart-ass mouth.
Only when the last tremor subsided, leaving me boneless and shaking, did he slow down. A few soft, lingering licks made me whimper. Slowly, he lowered my hips back to the mattress. He lifted his head, his chin glistening, his eyes blown with desire. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, that same infuriating, beautiful grin back in place.
“So,” he said, his voice hoarse. “That’s benefit number one.”
He leaned over me, bracing his hands on the mattress by my shoulders, his face inches from mine.
He looked at me and laughed as he stood up, dragging both hands through his hair like he was resetting himself byforce. The loss of his body between my legs was so immediate and offensive that I nearly complained out loud.
Then he looked at me sitting there on the end of my bed, flushed, mouth swollen, hair messy from his hands, and the smugness returned full force.
His eyes darkened instantly, and the room went hot all over again. For one reckless second, I thought he was going to step back between my legs and prove it.
Instead, he grabbed my shorts from the floor and slid them up my legs like he had not just ruined my life with his mouth, then looked at me with a smirk.
He looked perfectly composed again.
Mostly.
Except for the rough edge in his breathing and the bulge in his jeans.
I slid off the bed on legs that absolutely betrayed me the second my feet hit the floor.
