by Cassie Wild
Sweat bloomed on my forehead and rolled down my face as I held myself back, resisting the urge push her harder, push for more.
Her hair spilled around her, hiding her upper body from me and I wanted to see her. I wanted to see what I was doing to her, let her see what she was doing to me.
I could feel it, though.
Each shudder, each shake.
I could hear it, too. Each moan and cry.
Then she hit the edge and I felt that, felt her spasm around my cock, gripping me so tight and hard, it was a fight just to thrust inside her. A fight well worth it, though because she was so sweet, so hot, so wet, I could feel the moisture from her body slipping down to coat my balls.
She came hard and I was right behind her, my control in tatters.
Later, we showered.
She all but sagged against the wall of the large stall, her hair hanging in dark gold ropes around her shoulders.
“You look good wet,” I told her.
A faint smile curled her lips and she darted a shy look at my chest. “So do you.” She shivered a little and stretched, the smile on her face taking on a sly, pleased slant. “I had no idea things could feel like … this.”
“Things?” I braced my arms on the wall over her shoulders. “What kind of … things?”
“Sex.” Her tongue darted out and swiped across her lower lip. “The things you do to me … it makes all the stuff I’ve read in stories make more sense. I always thought they were exaggerating.”
I laughed softly. “So you enjoy reading about … things.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I read all sorts of books. But, yeah. I like it.”
“Does it make you hot?” I whispered against her ear.
She nodded mutely.
“Say it, Daria.”
“It makes me hot,” she said obediently.
I rubbed my lips against hers. “Good girl. What all have you read about?”
“Things like what we’ve done.” She tilted her head back, meeting my eyes. “Like when you had me take you in my mouth.”
“Did you like eating cock?”
Her face went bright red. But she nodded.
To my surprise, she reached between us and wrapped her fingers around me.
I jolted at the contact, head falling back at her shy, questing touch.
“I like touching you, too.”
“Then touch away.” I shifted our positions, so that she stood in front of me and I had my back against the tiled shower wall.
She did touch me, hesitant at first, then gaining more confidence.
“Can I …” She bit her lip, then continued on. “I want to take you in my mouth again.”
I covered her cheek with my hand and pressed my thumb against her lips. She opened around me and that alone had my cock jerking, hardening, swelling.
“Like this?”
She shook her head even as she sucked on me.
“Then tell me what you want, Daria. Say the words.”
“I want your cock in my mouth.” Then, she continued on, emboldened. “I want you to come in my mouth. You didn’t last time.”
“I will now. Get on your knees and suck me off, Daria.”
Her lashes drooped and a shiver raced through her. Then, moving with that willowy elegant grace, she went to her knees in front of me. I kept my hands at my sides, letting her take control. It was an unusual thing for me, but I wanted her comfortable, wanted her to do whatever her fantasies were whispering.
She took me inside her sweet mouth, slowly.
So slowly, I thought I’d die before she finally reached her limit.
She swayed back, then did it again, falling into an easy, seductive rhythm. I clenched my jaw to hold still.
She swept a look up at me as she pulled back, my cock popping free from the suction of her lips.
“You touched me last time,” she said.
“Do you want me touching you this time?”
She nodded and caught one of my hands, lifting it to her hair. “You touched me like this.”
“If I touch you, I might end up taking control and fucking your mouth instead of you sucking me off.”
“I …” She shivered. “I wouldn’t mind.”
I swore and cupped her head with one hand, grasping my prick with the other. I nudged against her lips. “Open …swallow me, Daria. Show me how much you like sucking cock.”
She opened for me and I let go of my dick to grip the other side of her head. I began to rock against her face, letting her take as much of me as I could, marking her limit. She seemed eager for more so I let her take as much as she could and grunted with satisfaction as the head of my cock hit the back of her throat.
I set the pace this time and it wasn’t the slow, gentle rhythm I’d given her the first time, nor the taunting, teasing pattern she’d used on me only moments earlier.
I fucked her mouth, pumping my hips harder and harder. I had to fight the urge not to give her more than she could handle and the control I struggled to retain soon had me quivering as I rutted against her mouth.
I came with a harsh groan that echoed around the stall and still she moved, reaching up to grasp my dick after my hand fell away, pumping every last drop of come from me.
When she was done, she remained on her knees for a long moment, resting her head against my thigh as she caught her breath. I covered her head with one hand, holding her there.
I didn’t want to leave here. Didn’t want to leave her.
Twenty-Nine
Daria
I woke up to find Brooks sprawled between my legs, his mouth on me.
It was still dark out and I stared down at him, barely able to make anything out in the dim room.
But I didn’t need to see—I could feel. His mouth did all sorts of dirty, decadent things to me and I reached down to twine my fingers in his hair, pressing him closer.
“You’re awake,” he whispered against me.
“I am now. And if I’m not, this is one hell of a dream.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to my thigh, then slid up my body and inside me in one smooth motion.
I gasped as he filled me, and I tightened the hands I still had in his hair.
I half expected him to take my wrists again and pin me down—I even anticipated it. He’d been telling me stuff about BDSM, things like he preferred to be in control when it came to sex—always. But he hadn’t minded when I took control in the shower earlier and he didn’t seem to mind my greedy hands fisting in his hair.
His mouth crushed down on mine. I opened for him, greedy, desperate. I knew I was desperate but I didn’t want to think about it right then.
He was leaving soon.
He’d promised to come back, but just the thought of being isolated here away from him, from everybody was enough to drive me mad.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered against his lips.
“I’ll be back.” He bit my lower lip and sucked on it.
I cried out and tightened my hands in his hair.
He thrust against me, hard and fast now, like control was the last thing on his mind.
I drew up my legs and twined them around his hips, rubbing myself against him. He had moved so that every thrust had him rubbing against my clit and the sensations were too much.
I came with a shuddering cry and I felt his cock swell, then jerk inside me. He shoved up onto his hands, both of them braced on the bed next to my head. He ground against me, movements so rigid, so minute, it barely seemed like he moved at all. But I felt each shift rubbing over my clitoris and it added to the waves of pleasure already swamping me.
He grunted, stiffening over me, then, slowly, he sank down to rest on top of me, his cock still buried inside.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I whispered again.
“I’ll be back. In just a few days.”
I went with him to the dock.
There was already a boat waiting for him and I gave him a faint grin. “Maybe I’l
l take your boat out for a spin while you’re gone. You showed me everything I need to know, right?”
He hooked his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Ha, ha. We’ll go back out when I’m back, okay?”
I nodded, tucking my face against his neck and breathing in his scent. I’d already gotten addicted to it.
He gave me one more kiss, then pulled away. “I’ll see you soon.”
I nodded, but kept my mouth closed. I didn’t want him to hear the unsteady tone I was sure my voice would have.
It was just a few days, right?
I stood on the dock as the boat backed out of its slip. Brooks waved at me. I waved back, then wrapped my arms around myself, chilled despite the light jacket I’d pulled on.
I sank down on the dock as the boat pulled farther and farther away from the island.
Once I could no longer see the boat, I retreated back into the house and went up to the bedroom, flinging myself face down on the mattress.
Duncan knocked a little while later, but I told him I wasn’t feeling well.
He retreated.
After indulging in a good, hard brood, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling.
Listlessly, I tugged open the drawer of the nightstand on my side of the bed and felt around until I managed to find my phone.
I powered it on and connected to the WiFi, then hit the browser. I had half a mind to download a book and try to read the morning away.
Message bubbles started popping up.
I hit the most recent one, sent sometime in the past few hours. It was from Isabel. I had no idea why she’d been awake and texting me at four in the morning. I’d powered the phone off to conserve the battery, so until I powered it back on and connected to WiFi, I had no idea she’d even texted me.
The message opened and my blood immediately ran cold.
Damn it, Daria, talk to me! Didn’t you see what I told you?
Swallowing, I scrolled up a few more messages, skimming them.
The bottom of my stomach dropped out when I saw the message she had to be referring to. It had been sent an hour earlier than the last one, around three in the morning.
Daria, you need to get the hell out of wherever you are. I just overheard my dad and Sean talking. Dad knows where you are and he’s sending people to get you. I don’t know what to think about all of this, but I’m afraid you’re in danger. RUN.
Don’t miss The Debt, the next book in the Downing Family, releasing on Amazon August 31.
In the meantime, turn the page to check out my other series, Deceit and Desire.
Preview Deceit and Desire
One
Suria
The fluorescent sign in the window was buzzing, and it was annoying the hell out of me.
I wanted a new one, but it wasn’t like they came cheap.
I’d be happy with something simple and sedate, but simple and sedate didn’t fit in with the family lifestyle.
I guess it didn’t fit in my persona at the moment either.
After all, the Mysterious Sirene, psychic extraordinaire, didn’t look like a simple, sedate person.
That was me, some of the time. The Mysterious Sirene. Or just Sirene. That was what my clients called me.
The man in front of me wanted to know if his wife was cheating on him with his best friend. We’d been talking for two weeks, and during that time, I’d done my homework. I was hoping I could tell the poor guy no. Mitch Franklin was a nice enough guy, and he tipped well. I told him that I charged on a sliding scale basis – that wasn’t always the case – but judging by his Italian leather loafers and the BMW he arrived in, he could afford to pay a little more than the single mom I talked to before he showed up at my door.
I was a con artist, but I tried to be fair.
Taking his hands in mine, I stared at his calloused, work-roughened palms and gripped them, making a show of studying them instead of looking into his eyes.
I always felt bad if I looked into their eyes too long anyway.
I didn’t need to do it for the job, so I avoided it whenever possible.
“I’m not getting a good feeling about your Kayla, Mitch.” Heaving out a dramatic sigh, I asked if he’d remembered to bring something of hers. It was typical, just part of the act. Not that the clients knew it, but it made them feel like what was going on was really authentic. And what’s more, I was about to tell him the truth. His wife was cheating on him. I had pictures.
He pulled a scarf out of the pocket of his suit coat, and I accepted it, trying not to rub it with my fingers. It was real silk. Greed shot through me, but I shoved it down. I was getting ready to break this guy’s heart. I didn’t need to be salivating over his cheating wife’s accessories.
Taking the scarf, I pushed it into the copper bowl in the middle of my table and held my hands over it.
If I really wanted to be showy, I could have set it on fire. But why ruin such a pretty thing?
Closing my eyes, I breathed in deep and slow.
The stupid fluorescent sign buzzed, a nuisance among nuisances.
Opening my eyes, I looked at him and gave him a sad smile. “I’m really sorry, but Kayla is cheating on you. The man…” I let my lashes drift lower as I called up a memory of the man I’d seen leaving her house. They’d stood on the porch, kissing for several minutes, so there was no mistaking the visit for a friendly one. Not that I would have. I’d trespassed and crept around until I found a window where I could see them. And had I ever seen them. “He has blond hair, cut very short. Tanned. He looks…does your friend like to go to the gym a lot? He has that look about him.”
“That’s Bryan,” Mitch bit off. He shoved up from the table and started to pace.
That always made me nervous, but I remained where I was, refusing to fidget or let him see how uneasy his anger made me.
I knew it wasn’t directed at me and that was the important thing. But I felt better once he slumped back into the chair across from me.
“Why?” he asked wearily. “Why are they doing this?”
“I’m sorry,” I told him gently. My father would pop a gasket if he heard, but I wasn’t going to string this guy along anymore. “But that’s not something I can answer with a simple reading.” Faking a weak laugh, I added, “And unless your wife wants to come talk to me…”
“Yeah, right. She laughs because I think there’s a possibility Big Foot might be real.”
He snorted as he reached into his coat pocket. I didn’t move as he laid an extra hundred down. He’d already paid me three hundred for this reading, bringing the grand total up to nine hundred. The previous tips had all been fifties. We were going to pretend this one was too.
I reached into the bowl and pulled out the scarf, casually flicking it so that it fell to hide the money. “Here’s her scarf,” I said as he rose.
He glanced down, his face folding in distaste. “If you like it, you can keep it. I didn’t buy it…and it’s not really something she’d buy for herself.”
I arched my brows at his retreating back, but I couldn’t help but admire the underhanded blow he’d delivered, one his wife might never know about. It was a scarf her lover might have given her. And her husband had just given it to a con artist.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Mr. Franklin. I’m sorry this couldn’t have gone differently,” I said as he slid out the door.
He didn’t bother to answer, but I wasn’t surprised.
As the headache threatened to grow to massive proportions, I slid my hand under the scarf and grabbed the hundred. I’d swipe it out for a fifty before I paid my father. The money, in turn, would go to Vano, and he’d come by at the end of the week with our percentage.
Asshole.
I made more money than most of the people in the clan. I knew it because I’d heard people talking about it, some with pride, others with rancor, but I knew I did good for this clan.
And my family got a fucking thirty percent.
Dad only gave me fifteen percent of that.
On a given day, I could make anywhere from seven hundred to a thousand bucks, and I got next to nothing from it.
It was like I was living two or three hundred years in the past.
I hated it.
Irritated now, and with my headache even worse, I got up and hit the switch for the sign.
That simple act removed some of the garishness from the room.
If one ignored little things like the copper bowl in the middle of the coffee table, all the crystals that littered the bookshelves and other mystical looking items, the room looked…almost normal. Which was how I preferred it. If Papa had his way, there would be a grand old wooden table in the middle of the room, complete with a crystal ball, but I’d put my foot down on that.
If it was my con, then it was my show.
He’d caved.
Thankfully.
I didn’t have anybody scheduled for another hour, so I was going to take lunch. It wasn’t the best time for it. Noon sometimes brought in our best walk-in business, but I wasn’t in the mood to try and tell the next blue-eyed blonde that her prince was out there waiting for her, all she had to do was be patient.
Once in the back of the house, I stripped off all the bracelets I wore as Sirene. I slid the skirt off and folded it, tucking it on the shelf I used to hold most of my get-up for when I was on, then padded down the hall in in a long tank, leggings, and sandals, feeling more like Suria now.
I couldn’t completely strip off everything since I had to go back out there after I ate, but at least I felt a little more like me.
“Hey, Suri!”
My little sister, Joelle, stood at the stove, stirring something in a skillet. “That smells good. Whatever it is, I’ll have a double.”
