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Authors: JM Stewart
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her with a sense of power. Cade McKenzie had a beautiful body, every inch of him lean and sculpted. For tonight at least, he was all hers.
She tossed her bra to the floor and massaged her breasts, caressing them and pinching the nipples, then moved to her panties. She teased him, pulled them halfway down, then back up, before turning her back to him and bending over as she pushed them down her legs. She wiggled her backside at him then turned back around and took a seat in the chair.
Cade banged his head against the back of the couch. The tendons in his neck strained. His jaw tightened. His hand stroked his cock slow but steady. “Christ, you’re killing me. Please . I’m dying to touch you.”
She shook her head, and he let out another growl, this one loud and frustrated. His hand squeezed his cock, the head purple and swollen. Her effect on him filled her with an addicting sense of power. She had the sense right then she could do anything. No man had ever looked at her with that much desire or begged her in such a desperate way. It might be cruel to make him sit and watch. He was right. She hadn’t met him here so she could touch herself. By God, she had to prolong this as much as possible. The expression on his face filled her with an unparalleled sense of being beautiful and powerful.
Maybe, though, the time had come to let him off the hook and be honest.
“It’s addicting.” Soaking in the sight of him, letting it fuel her desire and her bravery, she slid her fingers down her slit, swiping her index finger over her clit. One stroke sent a heady rush shuddering through her. She gasped, her back arching off the chair. “Watching you. God, Cade, I’m so aroused. Sitting here, knowing I do that to you. Nobody’s ever looked at me the way you are right now. Like I’m…”
She shook her head, letting the words drift off. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she averted her gaze, focusing on the movement of his hand. She couldn’t say the words.
“Beautiful.” He growled the words, his voice thick and strained. “You’re fucking beautiful. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an asshole who doesn’t deserve you anyway. Spread your legs, baby. Let me see.”
Another rush of heat raced up her neck. She had to be red as a tomato, but she did as he asked and spread her thighs, opening herself to his hot gaze. She had a feeling of being made of glass, wide open before him, and as vulnerable as a newborn baby. She’d never done this either, touched herself while a lover watched.
His eyes slid to half-mast, their heat burning through her. “I want to bury my face between your thighs. Do you know how torturous this is? Dip your fingers inside and taste yourself. Tell me what you taste like, baby. Tell me what I’m missing.”
Sliding her fingers inside made her moan. Fire licked along every nerve ending, making her extra sensitive. Her gaze glued to his hand, working his cock, and instead of her fingers, she imagined the fat head sliding inside of her. Her thighs shook with the need to come. Her eyes fluttered closed. She wanted, needed, and craved more but did as he asked. She pulled her fingers out and opened her eyes, gaze locked on his as she inserted them in her mouth. “A little sweet, a hint of tangy, kind of musky.”
He groaned, this one long and low, and squeezed his cock in his fist. “You’re killing me. I’m so fucking close.”
“Me too. So close.” She let out a shuddering breath, flicking her finger back and forth over her swollen clit.
“Come for me, baby. Let it go.” His voice shook, his hand working his cock faster and faster.
It took all of three strokes. Three tiny little flicks of her finger and her climax slammed into her, a series of luscious bubbles bursting inside of her. She gasped, breathless, hips arching off the chair, pushing into the pressure of her fingers. A litany of quiet moans left her mouth. All the while images of him flew through her mind, leaving her
She tossed her bra to the floor and massaged her breasts, caressing them and pinching the nipples, then moved to her panties. She teased him, pulled them halfway down, then back up, before turning her back to him and bending over as she pushed them down her legs. She wiggled her backside at him then turned back around and took a seat in the chair.
Cade banged his head against the back of the couch. The tendons in his neck strained. His jaw tightened. His hand stroked his cock slow but steady. “Christ, you’re killing me. Please . I’m dying to touch you.”
She shook her head, and he let out another growl, this one loud and frustrated. His hand squeezed his cock, the head purple and swollen. Her effect on him filled her with an addicting sense of power. She had the sense right then she could do anything. No man had ever looked at her with that much desire or begged her in such a desperate way. It might be cruel to make him sit and watch. He was right. She hadn’t met him here so she could touch herself. By God, she had to prolong this as much as possible. The expression on his face filled her with an unparalleled sense of being beautiful and powerful.
Maybe, though, the time had come to let him off the hook and be honest.
“It’s addicting.” Soaking in the sight of him, letting it fuel her desire and her bravery, she slid her fingers down her slit, swiping her index finger over her clit. One stroke sent a heady rush shuddering through her. She gasped, her back arching off the chair. “Watching you. God, Cade, I’m so aroused. Sitting here, knowing I do that to you. Nobody’s ever looked at me the way you are right now. Like I’m…”
She shook her head, letting the words drift off. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she averted her gaze, focusing on the movement of his hand. She couldn’t say the words.
“Beautiful.” He growled the words, his voice thick and strained. “You’re fucking beautiful. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an asshole who doesn’t deserve you anyway. Spread your legs, baby. Let me see.”
Another rush of heat raced up her neck. She had to be red as a tomato, but she did as he asked and spread her thighs, opening herself to his hot gaze. She had a feeling of being made of glass, wide open before him, and as vulnerable as a newborn baby. She’d never done this either, touched herself while a lover watched.
His eyes slid to half-mast, their heat burning through her. “I want to bury my face between your thighs. Do you know how torturous this is? Dip your fingers inside and taste yourself. Tell me what you taste like, baby. Tell me what I’m missing.”
Sliding her fingers inside made her moan. Fire licked along every nerve ending, making her extra sensitive. Her gaze glued to his hand, working his cock, and instead of her fingers, she imagined the fat head sliding inside of her. Her thighs shook with the need to come. Her eyes fluttered closed. She wanted, needed, and craved more but did as he asked. She pulled her fingers out and opened her eyes, gaze locked on his as she inserted them in her mouth. “A little sweet, a hint of tangy, kind of musky.”
He groaned, this one long and low, and squeezed his cock in his fist. “You’re killing me. I’m so fucking close.”
“Me too. So close.” She let out a shuddering breath, flicking her finger back and forth over her swollen clit.
“Come for me, baby. Let it go.” His voice shook, his hand working his cock faster and faster.
It took all of three strokes. Three tiny little flicks of her finger and her climax slammed into her, a series of luscious bubbles bursting inside of her. She gasped, breathless, hips arching off the chair, pushing into the pressure of her fingers. A litany of quiet moans left her mouth. All the while images of him flew through her mind, leaving her
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