Page 67 of Eye Candy

“Do you feel how wet you make me?” my perfect partner said instead. “Feel how much I liked having your thick cock in my mouth? Stop holding back, Chase. Just do it. Fill me, fuck me. I want you, I want?—”

I jerked my hips up, thrusting through her tight heat and inside her, where I craved being. She gasped, her provocative sentences long gone. As her lovely body stretched to accommodate me, she let out a long, guttural moan, her legs spreading wider and wider until our pelvises pressed together and my shaftwas deep in her. She ground her hips in small rotations, pussy lips gripping my base as if she were trying to pull my whole body inside hers.

“You talk now.” She panted, the demanding brat. “It’s your turn.”

She was made for me.

It was an effort, but I gathered my thoughts, swallowing anything that might freak her out—declarations like her being built for me were off-limits. Instead, my brain scrambled for more of the filthy talk we both got off on.

“You want this cock, Caroline? Go on then. Take it.” I pushed my hips as far as I could go, wanting farther, just like she did. I fucked her like I had wanted to since that first chess game. My little hellion clawed at my back, trying to pull me closer.

“This is beautiful,” I said, hoarse now. “Look how well you take my cock. Your body wants what I have for you.”

Feeling desperate, I licked my thumb and found her clit. She gasped and the satisfied sound echoed in my head, in my balls. When her head fell back, I enjoyed how each of my thrusts made her tits bounce above her tiny bra. Then her hips bucked, the sensation almost too much to bear.

“Just you and me now.” I panted, keeping my thumb on her. She squeaked—there was no other word for it—and then she was shuddering again, her pussy a vise that was going to squeeze me to death. I ignored the creaking bed frame, threatening to quit on us. I ought to have been worried about someone hearing us in the hallway, but I wasn’t. I didn’t care.

When we rolled, something fell to the floor and there was the sound of breaking glass—my glasses—but I still didn’t stop.

Caroline threw her head back as she came for a second time and I shouted as a particularly strong clench gripped my cock and filled the condom, spurt after spurt.

Our bodies collapsed together, and I held her to my chest, mindful not to crush her or dislodge the condom. I knew I needed to sort that out, but I had neither the physical nor mental strengthright now. Caroline reached up and pushed a lock of my hair off my face and I dropped a kiss on her forehead. She grinned.

“You did promise multiples, Mr. Moral. I’m glad you’re a man of your word.”

I grinned, and for once, had nothing more to say.

I basked in the perfect moment.

CHAPTER 26

CAROLINE

On the morningof my first full day in Canada, I peeled myself out of bed at a gentle ten a.m. There were no signs of Gerry, but Chase was up and waiting for me with coffee and a very persuasive pitch for staying for a week in Canada—sightseeing and shopping.

I couldn’t refuse.

No, Icould, I just didn’t want to.

The first destination on the agenda was somewhere that sold spectacles, as we’d sexed his into an early death.

We found a glasses store in the city and the salesperson took one look at Chase and immediately fell in lust.

I couldn’t blame her.

“Welcome to Peep You, I’m Jan,” she said to Chase. “If you need any help, just say the word. Doesn’t matter if I’m with another customer. Just signal me, and I’ll come.” She shook herself. “Over, I’ll come over.”

I might as well have been wallpaper. And I got it. I’d ignore me too if Chase walked into my workplace.

Chase, as per usual, was oblivious. “Thank you, Jan.”

“No, thankyou.” Jan pushed her round tortoiseshell frames back up on her nose. She was the spitting image of Lyssa’s idol Iris Apfel, right down to the bright stacked bracelets. “The best thing about high-performance visual aids is being able to see the beauty of the world with perfect, anti-glare clarity.”

I rolled my eyes. Jan had all the subtlety of a fistful of bells.

“I’m a poet.” She beamed at him.

As we browsed the shelves, I thought of a poem of my own.

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