I wanted him to lose it from my touch.
When he roared out a shout that ended in my name, I took everything. I milked him until he shook under my touch, his hips breaking out of my hold.
I released him, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I rolled away from him, my hip connecting with the floor a little harder than I’d intended. His bare ass was half on, half off a rug that ran the length of the hall.
“Are we running a race?” he rasped out.
I flipped my hair out of my face and propped up my head with my hand. “I think I won that round.”
He kicked off his jeans and rolled to a crouch. Even soft, his cock was impressive. He stood over me, his powerful thighs flexing as he widened his stance.
“How many rounds are we going to go, Evie?”
“As many as you can handle,” I said. My voice was full of way too much bravado. I knew it the minute I’d opened my damn mouth. His eyes swept over me before he curled his hand around my crooked arm and dragged me off the floor and over his shoulder. “Hey!”
I kicked out and twisted. He swore and held on. “Do you want me to drop you?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t get carried around. Ever.
Not since my… Not since that day. I never wanted to feel that helpless again. I slithered out of his hold and around the front of him, pitching him over and down the hall in a flip. “What the actual fuck?”
I was crouched on the floor and he held up his hands. Incredulity faded into lust. He thought it was a game. My heart slammed against my sternum in excitement tinged with lingering anxiety. I hadn’t meant to react like that. The fact that he tucked and rolled like a fighter had my nipples standing at attention again.
He had the look.
He had the moves.
The car thief had taken him out earlier in the night, but the instinct and grace in his body told me that the alley had been more of an anomaly than truth. Had he been holding back in the alley? There was way too much physicality in his stance to have taken a beating.
Before I could examine that any further, he came at me.
“Trying to test out my defense training, Cage?”
“Maybe.”
Naked and already getting aroused from our play fight, he was magnificent. Huge shoulders tapered down to a lean waist and powerful thighs—he was pure golden candy with a club that I wanted to get a hold of again.
He took me down and tucked under to cushion my fall. We slammed into the wall. Well, he did. I slammed into his very hard chest—might as well have been a wall. Damn, he was solid.
My pussy throbbed in reaction. Adrenaline from fighting always amped me up, but I didn’t usually get turned on. I did like new experiences, and tonight had been full of them.
He’d curled around me protectively. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The little thread of warmth making its way through my bones was drowned out by hardcore lust. That made a helluva lot more sense.
I broke out of his loose hold, rolled my shoulder, and did a soft somersault through the doorway to whatever room was at the end of the hall.
He stood, slapped the light switch on, and the room fired to life.
TEN
I wasn’t sure what to expect in his space, but this wasn’t it. I couldn’t get a very good look at it all because my focus was on my opponent. Not my partner. We weren’t sex partners right now. We were definitely in the cat and mouse portion of the evening.
And I freaking loved it.
Revved and curious, I flipped off my top and shucked my jeans and boots as he walked toward me. There was no doubt that were going to fuck. We were just going to have to figure out how it happened.
The room was industrial, with exposed pipes and brick. His bed was low to the ground and huge. It seemed to be on a big platform, but it didn’t go right to the floor. There was light shining from under it. What the hell?
A padded headboard was bolted to the wall above the mattress. The bed was unmade and twisted up like he’d fought demons well into the night. I found that I liked that better than a freshly made bed.
I knew he could get laid no matter what, but that he didn’t set up his room like it was a sure thing settled me somehow. Beyond the abundant playground space of his mattress, the rest of the room was almost militant in its order.
Books lined the walls on black pipe and wood bookcases that screamed masculinity. There was a whole network of order around his chaotic bed.
I let him get closer to me. He was wary and I liked that too. Keeping him off-center was almost as delicious as soaking in all the details of his body. He slipped his fingers into my hair and drew me up for a slow, hot kiss.
If he thought there was going to be anything slow about this night, he was on drugs.
On my toes, I allowed a moment of serenity. In my head, my muscles were coiled to spring, but he didn’t know that. I kept everything loose and soft and even lost myself for a moment in the unique flavor of him. I slowly turned him toward the bed. When the kiss drowned out all my ragey need to go in for the kill, I pushed him back.
I didn’t want romance.
I wanted the hard and the hot. I wanted to forget that I had to go back into the gym tomorrow and work myself into exhaustion. I wanted to feel alive.
I hooked my leg around his and dumped him back on the mattress. Surprise swirled over his features and he tried to get up, but I crawled over him, urging him back on the bed. I wanted to get my fuck on. I wanted to ride him until I couldn’t breathe.
He rose up and I pushed him back. “Condom?”
“Drawer,” he said.
I turned to the left of the steel canopy that caged his bed. He shook his head. I moved to the right. I had to stretch across the mattress to pull it open. More order. I frowned for a moment—wow, order. But my focus was the box of rubbers, not that he was a neat freak. At least not too much anyway.
He shifted up farther on the bed, and again, tried to reach for me.
“Not yet.” I slapped my palm into the middle of his chest and slammed him back into the mattress.
His nostrils flared, but there was still intense interest in his eyes. The jaw clench thing was hot enough that I decided to poke the bear again. I inched back over to straddle his thighs, ripped the foil packet, and took him in hand.
His belly tightened, abdominal muscles quivering with his shallow breaths. He was stupid attractive. The kind of delicious that made women do insane things. I was no stranger to a one-night-stand, but I also didn’t let it go beyond sex.
We’d already gone so far beyond a simple fuck. If that was all I’d wanted, the car would have been enough. And yet, here I was.
I rolled the latex over his very impressive cock. The plum-colored tight head buried under the fleshy color and totally unnecessary ridges on the rubber. I inched up, tucked his head along my slit and pumped my hips so he rolled all along my clit.
His hands fisted at his sides as I teased him with my wetness, my greedy pussy slick for him. I’d given him head just a few minutes ago and he was ready for another show. I dragged him over my lips and slid along his shaft. I didn’t take him inside yet. I was definitely prepped for it, but once I got him inside me, I knew it would be over.
I was going to ride him so hard that I’d miss the visual. And I wasn’t quite ready to miss any of this yet.
There were two huge sconces at either side of his bed. I could see every inch of his golden skin. One night would have to get me through the next few months of training. My spank bank would be full of Johnny Cage and his six-foot-three body with a fucking club-sized cock.
I slid back down his shaft. My wetness and the lubricant on the condom made everything glide so easily. My pussy was already trying to clasp around his girth.
He grasped my hips and I shook my head. I took each of his hands and pinned them up against the cushioned headboard. “Not yet.”
He was too long though. Stretching to pin him there brought his head to rest at
my opening. He lifted his hips and we lined up. I took him slowly, getting used to the way he filled me. The car had been so fast. I was still sore from just how hard he’d fucked me. Righteously sore—just like I was about to be once more.
When I’d taken the last of him, we both groaned together. His forearms were stone under my fingers. I couldn’t reach his wrists—not and keep his perfect cock inside me. Instead, I gripped his biceps and took him again and again.
I shut my eyes and the heat of him—the pure harnessed power—was just what I needed. My hips were wild as I rode him like I was racing to the edge of oblivion. The friction of our bodies drove me higher, faster, more out of control. I let him go and straightened to take him faster. My back was slick with sweat, my thighs practically smoking from the speed in which I took him.
I cracked open my eyes and he was arching off the bed, his face turned away from me. I balanced myself on his belly and his rage-filled face spiked my heart rate.
He reached for me and flipped us so I was under him. “I’m not a fuck toy. I’m in this with you. If you want to just get off, get a dildo.” He pinned me into the bed, rolling his hips until the earlier friction I’d been riding became something more. All that weight was suffocating.
I didn’t want it.
I tried to roll us back over so I could be back on top—back in control. He jammed his arm under my back until we were stuck together. With his other arm, he held himself up enough that I could breathe.
He gentled his touch, his mouth hovering over mine. “God, no one has ever gripped my cock so tightly.” He growled as he canted his hips against mine. “Just as tight as your grip, and your perfect dirty mouth.”
“God, do you have to be a talker?” I looked away and found only more muscles as his arms flexed with the effort to not crush me. I gripped his wrist beside my head, my nails digging in as he kept watching me. “Stop.”
He smiled down at me. “You don’t want me to stop.”
When his hips rolled into this rhythm that only he seemed to know, I finally couldn’t hold out against this position. I stopped fighting him, our eyes locked. “Harder, dammit. This sissy shit isn’t getting done.”
His jaw tightened and his kiss was rough. I gripped the back of his head and ate at his mouth. My breath shuddered out of my chest as his hips continued in that steady undulation. My hold slid down the back of his neck, then to his shoulders.
The sob came out of nowhere and seemed to spur him into motion. I was spiraling. The pleasure broke me open. I wanted to crawl away from it. It was like he’d unlocked something hidden and shoved it out into the sunlight.
It burned.
It hurt.
It was like a million different little sensors had blown and there was nothing left of me. Just an open wound that was trying desperately to knit itself back together.
He laced the fingers of one hand with mine and dragged it up by my head. His hips were relentless as he drove both of us into pleasure-soaked shouts and screams. My throat was raw, my thighs were jelly, and my lungs didn’t work.
But I held onto him and he held me back.
When I slipped away and found the sweet bliss of dark, I breathed again. His lips found my neck and that was the last thing I remembered for a good long while.
ELEVEN
I opened my eyes to blackness. Was I still dreaming?
Surely that stallion of fucktastic bedroom skills wasn’t real. I’d had a lot of tequila earlier in the night, and it always gave me weird dreams. Jamie probably dumped me into my apartment and left me.
I smoothed my hand out and found way too much sheet. I could only fit a full-sized bed in my tiny apartment. I didn’t need much more than that anyway. My bed was only used to pass out in. Alone.
Someone shifted behind me. A knee slid between my legs and a seriously solid thigh pinned me to the bed. As I grew more aware, the solid arm around my hips made me frown. How the hell had I fallen asleep?
I didn’t do that.
One-and-done—see ya.
I tried to lift his arm and he shifted, dragging me against his chest. His chin slipped into the space between my neck and shoulder. He hummed into my neck. “Hello there.”
“Um, hi.”
He huffed out a laugh and kissed my shoulder. “It’s okay to sleep over.”
“I don’t sleep over.”
“I don’t usually like anyone to stay the night either.” His voice was rough with fatigue.
“Then we’re in agreement.” I tried to wiggle out of his hold.
“I said, ‘Usually’.” His forearm angled between my legs and his fingers found me. “But your pussy came straight from heaven. And I want another taste.”
“My pussy is from earth. Cambridge, actually.”
He laughed and slid down under the covers. “Well, Cambridge pussy, you are awesome.” He said against my thighs. “And I want another taste.”
“Cage—you just…” Well, fuck. Hello there, tongue. I sucked in a sharp breath as he lazily licked every inch of my slit and clit. His tongue was magnificent. And before I could even make a token protest, he filled me with two fingers. His thumb flicked under my clit and his tongue did some sort of twirl and I shot up and over into Orgasmlandia with a spin through Screaming Ecstasy Boulevard.
My thighs shook and my fingers were twisted in his long hair by the time I could catch a breath. But he wasn’t done with me. He flipped me onto my belly and reached over me for that blasted drawer.
He drew my knee up and slipped into me so softly and gently that I simply flowed headlong into another orgasm. His thrusts were easy and lazy, as if he had all the time in the world. One arm supported my head and our fingers linked effortlessly. He cupped my breast, tugging at my nipple in time with his magic hips.
I closed my hand over his as he rolled me to the side and hooked my knee up. He drove into me, his mouth on my neck and shoulder as he bent me back. His hips were relentless. His other hand held me against him so he could shove me down on his pulsing cock.
He filled me, never breaking his connection with me even when he twisted me onto my back. I was splayed open for him, his cock driving into me. “Fuck, Evie.”
I couldn’t breath around the invasion and brought my hand down to where we were joined. He was slick from me and I palmed myself, my fingers open to feel him moving in me.
It was dark, and I couldn’t see a damn thing, but then he was on top of me, his hips furiously pounding into me. He’d pinned my fingers between us and the friction of me and the rough hairs above his cock ended me.
I pulled my hand out from between us and scraped my nails down his back until I found his ass. I met him stroke for stroke, learning that thing he did with his hips that I was growing to crave.
His mouth was on mine and he swore against my lips. Teeth and tongues crashed together and his fingers slid around the back of my neck. We were a mess of sweat and skin and in the middle of it all, when I couldn’t think—he skimmed his thumb along my neck and up my scar.
I froze.
“No.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Fucking beautiful. Strong, and fucking beautiful,” he said.
I broke and sobbed out his name. His lips found my neck and jaw, licking and kissing over the ugly until he made me believe it was beautiful for just that one moment.
We lay together like that for a few minutes as we came down, as our breathing eased, and his cock softened until he had no choice but to slide free from me. He kissed my shoulder, then rolled off the bed. A light turned on and I heard a toilet flush.
I met him between the door and bed. The shaft of light cut along his chest and groan-worthy thighs. He swirled his fingertip around my belly to the hummingbird tattoo along my ribs. “I left a towel and washcloth out for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll just clean up and get out of here.” I moved away from him and he caught my hand.
“Stay. I’ll bring you home in the morning.”
“I’ll just order an Uber on my
phone.”
He shook his head, dragging me into him. “Bed. Sleep with me.”
“I gotta go, I have—” I didn’t want to say training. I didn’t want to open that can of worms tonight.
“Work?” He lowered his mouth to mine. “On a Saturday?”
“Every day for some of us non-rock stars.”
He pushed my hair over my shoulder. “I get up early for a run anyway. I’ll drive you home.”
“5 a.m. early?”
He groaned. “Doable.” His fingers did that circle thing on my belly, and this time the design was definitely an outline of my tattoo.
I tried to move away. I wasn’t really ticklish, but then again I’d never really been touched so gently. That wasn’t what I wanted tonight to be about anyway. Why couldn’t he get that?
Weren’t guys supposed to want a bang-and-run kind of girl?
He moved those little circles up to my tits and repeated that tug thing on my nipples. It was like he had a direct line to my clit with every pull. My resistance faded in direct proportion to his touch. He finally let me go and stepped back.
I escaped to the bathroom and collapsed against the door. A denim blue towel and matching washcloth were on the sink. More of that ruthless organization showed in his bathroom. The towels were folded and stacked on shelves beside the massive glass shower. There was a separate water closet for the toilet. I ducked in there and noticed the toilet paper was tucked into the side of the tube on the dispenser.
Weird.
I took care of business, then tried to fold and tuck like I’d seen it done on the roll, but gave up. He’d just have to deal.
I understood rituals. Male fighters were terrible about them. So much so that I usually stayed out of the locker rooms before and after a fight. They were damn crazy.
When I lifted the towel, I found a soft white T-shirt under it.
Thoughtful bloke.
How many boob prints were in this thing?
BANGED: Rock Stars, Bad Boys & Dirty Deeds Page 57
