CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cat
IT WAS THE second time that morning I’d come apart in Smoke’s arms. The second time I’d screamed his name. The second time I’d been annihilated by pleasure.
The first time I’d been scared of what was happening between us.
Now I didn’t give a fuck.
It was like he’d taken all the fear, all the doubt, all the uncertainty away, leaving me with just sensation. But then that was what Smoke did, wasn’t it? He made everything okay—he always had.
It seemed ridiculous to me, now that I was lying wrapped tight in his arms, his face pressed into my hair, that I’d been so scared before—that I’d had so much difficulty trusting him. Because I should have. Of course I should have. I mean, I trusted him with my child. What was my heart in comparison?
Your heart?
Figure of speech. I loved Smoke. He was my best friend in the world, the person I counted on most. Of course I loved him. But I’d never been ‘in love’ with him. That had been a step I’d never wanted to take, a place I’d never wanted to go—not with him. Love was shit and I didn’t want to stain our friendship with it.
Things are going to change now, though, aren’t they? You’ve kind of taken a step in that direction.
Yeah, there was no denying it. Things had changed—and it wasn’t even just the sex. He wanted us to be together the way an old lady was together with her old man—virtually married—and if I wanted Annie to stay safe, I wasn’t going to get a choice about it.
So? He’s a man who’ll never hurt you, who’ll do anything for you, who’ll protect you and Annie, and give you astounding orgasms. What more could you want?
Good point. Something in me wanted that more than anything I’d ever wanted anything in my entire life, and yet something else kept resisting. I didn’t know what it was—my daddy issues, my ex issues, or something else again—but I could feel it holding me back.
I didn’t want to get hurt again—that was the main thing—and if I gave Smoke everything, the power he’d have over me...
His big, lean body shifted, the feel of his bare skin moving over mine, making my mouth go dry and scattering every thought in my head. He lifted his head, those dark eyes staring down at me. He was pressed against every inch of me, his still-semihard cock resting against the inside of my thigh. The heat of him was incredible, and the musky scent of aroused male filled the space around us.
I wanted to arch against him, rub myself all over him, trace his ink, run my hands over those powerful shoulders, feel all the hard-cut muscle of his pecs and then down to the corrugated lines of his abs. Explore every inch of his smooth, hot skin.
I’d never felt that way about a man. Ever. Not even with Justin. Perhaps that should be a warning, and maybe a day or two ago I would have listened to it. But now...now I ignored it, looked up into his black eyes and lost myself.
‘You,’ he said, his voice all rough and sexy, ‘are fucking incredible.’
You’re fucking mine.
The possessive note in those words should have had me running for the hills—especially after Justin—but when Smoke said them it was different. It made me feel wanted, desired. It made me feel cared for. As if for the first time I wasn’t merely my father’s unwanted daughter or my mother’s little mistake. I wasn’t Justin’s punching bag. I wasn’t even Annie’s mom.
I was Smoke’s old lady. I was Cat.
I touched his face, sliding a finger down his straight nose and across one high cheekbone. Trailing it down to his jaw and along the rough stubble of his morning beard, prickling against my fingertip, I reached his mouth, traced his lower lip. It felt firm and yet soft—the only soft thing there was about him.
‘So are you.’
It didn’t encompass what I felt, but it was true all the same. He was. Absolutely fucking incredible.
He smiled, his mouth curving under my fingertip, and the sight of it made my heart stretch out inside my chest and shivers chase all over me. Hungry, sexy, dangerous.
My best friend. My lover.
Gently, he took my fingertip between his strong white teeth, nipping me, sending an intense jolt of sensation straight to my core.
‘It’s not over yet. We have the entire fucking morning. And I intend to use all of it.’
Even now, even like this, when there was nothing between us but skin, I blushed. ‘Don’t you have other stuff to do?’
‘Nope. Like I said, I’m planning on doing nothing but fucking you.’
I blushed even harder—which was ridiculous. I’d heard him say worse stuff. Then again, it was never usually me he was talking about when he referred to fucking.
‘Well, we’ve done that now, so—’
‘What?’ he demanded, his brows rising almost up to his hairline. ‘We’ve “done that”? I don’t fucking think so. I’ve got a lot of fantasies where you’re concerned, Cat, and they don’t include one vanilla missionary on the couch.’
I swallowed, feeling self-conscious and out of my depth. My sex life so far had been nothing to write home about, but it had been okay. I’d never had a lover like Smoke before—a man who took what he wanted. Who was raw, uninhibited and completely unselfconscious about anything. I was not any of that.
One corner of his mouth turned up, as if he’d read my mind. ‘What? Still scared?’
‘No, of course not,’ I replied hotly, and he laughed at my rise to his obvious bait. I hit him lightly on one muscular shoulder. ‘Don’t be such an asshole. This is new for me. I need a bit of time to come to terms with it. I mean, you only just told me you’ve apparently wanted me for years.’
The wicked look on his beautiful face made my heart turn over in my chest.
‘You don’t need time,’ he said.
And before I could say another word, he’d flipped me over onto my front, with him hot and hard and heavy pressed to my back.
‘All you need is more of my fucking cock.’
I took a startled breath as his hand came down on the back of my neck, gently but firmly urging my head down onto the couch cushions, turning my face towards the door.
‘You always have an answer, don’t you?’ My voice was starting to get husky... My heartbeat was speeding up.
‘That’s because I’m always right.’
He kept his hand there as his arm slid under me, pulling me up onto my knees, my butt in the air.
‘I mean it, Smoke. I need time and—’
I broke off as he pushed his knees between mine, making me widen my stance, and the heavy heat of that cock pushing between my thighs and sliding along the slick flesh of my pussy made my legs tremble.
‘Is this too much for you, kitten?’
He flexed his hips, his dick stroking the tender skin between my legs, its rounded head hitting my clit and drawing a groan from me. At the same time he kept that hand on the back of my neck, in a not so subtle domination.
‘Tell me and I’ll stop.’
Relentless pleasure was beginning to build again with every push of his hips, with every slide of his cock through the wet folds of my pussy.
But it wasn’t pleasure I was afraid of. It was the loss of my control...the way I could feel my heart slipping from my fingers and falling straight into his waiting palms.
It had always been there, this possibility. Just waiting for me to notice. I deliberately hadn’t noticed. I’d looked away.
I didn’t want to fall for him—and not because of the club. That was a smokescreen and I knew it—we both did. I didn’t want to fall for him because of what I could lose. And it wasn’t about the loss of our friendship.
It was about the loss of him.
I couldn’t lose Smoke. I just couldn’t.
Because you’re in love with him already.
I shut my eyes tight. I couldn’t think of that. I didn’t want to think of that. Better to concentrate on physical sensations. The slick, slow drag of his dick through my folds. The scent of sex and sweat, of his need and mine. The fabric of the sofa cushion beneath my cheek.
Yeah, so much better to think about that.
‘Well?’
The word was rough, hard edged. He pulled back and I felt the head of his cock press against my ass.
‘What about this? Is this too much?’
I shuddered, my breathing catching.
He pressed a little harder, his free hand sliding around and across my stomach, down between my thighs, finding my clit and stroking me.
Pleasure stretched out, lazy and hot, and I panted, watching the darkness behind my lids fissuring, cracking.
‘Cat?’ A flick of his fingers against my aching clit. ‘Answer me.’
I heaved in a breath. ‘I...I...don’t know...’
Another push and my flesh was parting, momentarily painful, making me shiver and groan, my muscles tightening in response. I didn’t think I would ever want that, but it seemed like there were a lot of things I’d thought I wouldn’t want, only to find I needed them more than my next breath.
Perhaps he knew, because a deep, husky laugh broke from him—the utter bastard. ‘Thought as much. Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Right now I haven’t got much patience when it comes to getting inside you.’
He pulled away again, and this time a hint of anger and not a little bit of shame coiled through my relief. Jesus, backing away from this because I was scared meant I was being the goddamn chickenshit he’d accused me of being earlier.
And I wasn’t. I so wasn’t.
‘I’m not scared.’
I wanted to prove it to him, backing up against him, pushing insistently, or at least as much as I could with his hand on my neck.
That hand firmed, stilling me. ‘Stop,’ he ordered quietly, and I did, unable to resist the gentle command in his voice. The pressure eased. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, Cat.’
‘Don’t I? Didn’t you call me chickenshit before?’
He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse. ‘I shouldn’t have. I was a tool.’
His free hand moved to my back, stroking down my spine in soothing motion.
‘I’m not fucking you in the ass right now anyway. I’ve got some lube, but you’ll need preparation—and, like I said, I haven’t got the patience right now. I’m not into pain—least of all yours.’
A blush worked its way up my throat to my cheeks. Not knowing what else to say and feeling ridiculous, I tried to sit up. But his hand was heavy on my neck again, keeping me where I was.
‘Doesn’t mean I’m not going to fuck you, though,’ he murmured. ‘So stay exactly like that. Don’t move.’
The hand on my neck and the heat at my back disappeared as he got off the couch. I could have got up, too, if I’d wanted to. But he’d told me to stay there so I did, with my head on the couch cushions and my butt in the air, watching him as he went to get another condom from the box. All lithe, easy grace and fluid muscle, the Knights tattoo spread out on his back flexing as he tore open the packet and rolled the latex down.
The pulse of desire was back between my legs...hungry and empty.
Smoke turned and came back, kneeling behind me again, leaning over me, his hands coming down on either side of my head. The heat of his body was there once more, pressing against me... God, I loved the feel of him.
I shivered as I felt him shift, his right hand lifting from beside my head to touch my shoulder and then sliding down the curve of my spine. A long, gentle stroke to the small of my back and then up again. I arched into his hand like the kitten he called me, a ripple of pleasure making me lift my hips, press my butt insistently against him, wanting him.
He didn’t seem to take the hint, just stroking me easy and slow. Then I felt the warmth of his breath on the small of my back.
I tensed. What the hell was he doing now?
His hands curved over my butt in a gentle caress, moving lower between my thighs, easing my legs wide apart. And then, shockingly, his tongue pushed into me from behind—a hard, deep thrust.
I gasped, my fingers sinking deep into the couch cushions as a bolt of the most intense pleasure shot up my spine, exploding in my head. Instinctively I tried to move, but his hands gripped the backs of my thighs, holding me in place as he gave me another long lick, his tongue sliding inside me.
I groaned and shut my eyes as he did it again and again, tearing gasps from my throat, making my legs shake, making me want to lift my hips to give him better access. But he held me so tight I couldn’t move. All I could do was stay on my hands and knees, sobbing with pleasure while he ate me from behind, begging him to end it.
But he didn’t. Only when I was incoherent with pleasure did he stop, leaving me wet and throbbing and empty.
Straightening up to cover me again, he pushed his weight against my back, the heat of his groin against my butt.
Then he thrust his cock deep inside me. Hard.
I came instantly, screaming into the cushions, my pussy clenching hard around him as he slid in and out, slow and easy and deep. And he kept going as if he had all the time in the world, his fingers slipping around and underneath me to find my swollen, aching clit. Toying with me until I was shaking and gasping all over again.
I don’t know how many times I came before he moved harder, faster, taking for himself what he’d given me. But there was one thing I was certain of.
He’d wrecked me.
He’d ruined me.
And I would never be the same again.