Page 9 of Let it Ignite
“I have a…one of those…you know…a menstrual tracking app,” she gasps, too aroused to think straight. “There’s a low chance I’d get pregnant. I just want you inside of me, Byron.”
“Fuck, baby, you say all the right things.”
Her breath catches, her hands gripping the sheets, her thighs trembling, and I push forward, the thick, blunt head slipping inside her, stretching her, filling her, claiming her.
She gasps, her back arching, her nails digging into the mattress, her tight, dripping heat clenching around me, pulling me deeper, and I feel her walls flutter, her body opening, welcoming every inch as I sink to the hilt, my hips pressing against her ass, my cock buried so deep I can feel her heartbeat around me.
“Fuck,” I snarl, grinding into her, my fingers digging into her hips, my jaw tight, my entire body vibrating. “You’re so tight, baby. So fucking tight.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, her breath coming in short, desperate pants, her legs wrapping around my waist, her ankles locking behind my back, pulling me even deeper. “Oh my god, Byron. Yes. More. Don’t stop.”
I wrap my fingers around her wrists, pinning them high above her head, my hips pistoning, as I start grinding into her like there’s no tomorrow. Her breath comes out in short,desperate gasps, her thighs clamping around my waist, her pretty little cunt sucking me in like she can’t get enough, like she’s just as ruined as I am.
“Gonna make you scream, Cassie,” I snarl against her ear, my teeth grazing the sensitive shell. “Gonna make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name. Gonna make you soak my cock, baby, until it’s dripping down my balls.”
Her back arches, her head tossing against the sheets, her breath catching on a sharp, broken cry. I feel her start to go, her walls clamping down, fluttering, milking me, pulling me deeper, rougher, until I’m slamming her into the mattress so hard, the headboard hits the wall and my vision going black around the edges.
“That’s it,” I grunt, driving in harder, feeling the tight, wet convulsions ripple around my cock. “Take it, baby. Take it all.”
And then she breaks, her entire body shattering beneath me, her pussy clamping down, her nails digging into my forearms, her screams echoing off the walls, wild and untamed, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm.
“Fuck, yes,” I growl, my hips bucking, my balls drawing up tight, my cock throbbing, pulsing, exploding deep inside her, coating her, filling her, marking her, making her mine. I bury myself to the hilt, grinding in deep, my body shaking, every muscle locked, my breath coming in harsh, desperate gasps as I empty myself into her.
I don’t pull out. Can’t. Not when she’s still quivering around me, her pretty, ruined cunt milking me for every drop, her body a shivering, breathless mess beneath mine. My face drops into the curve of her neck, dragging in the sweet, warm scent of her skin, my heart still pounding like I’m on the edge of losing it all.
I kiss her there, my tongue tasting the sweat and salt of her, my teeth grazing the spot where her pulse flutters. “Fuck, Cassie,” I murmur, my voice rough, raw, my fingers tracing lazy circles over her damp back. “Didn’t see you coming. Didn’t even know I needed this. Needed you.”
She’s still catching her breath, her head turned to the side, her eyes unfocused, her mouth open, her chest heaving. I want to see this look on her face every damn day. I want her to need me like this, to cling to me, to fall apart in my arms, to scream my name like I’m the only thing keeping her alive.
I want to keep her.
But I know I can’t. I can’t be who my father was.
So I hold her tight, pressing my lips to her temple, letting the ache settle in my bones, letting it carve its way into my heart.
“I’ll always have your back,” I whisper, my breath warm against her ear, my heart shattering quietly, the pieces sinking deep. “No matter where you go.”
Chapter 4
Cassie
Two Days Later
I stir the sauce, and the rich, garlicky steam curls up around me, filling the small kitchen with warmth.
"You know what I was thinking about today?" I call out, raising my voice just enough for it to carry down the hall where Byron’s hammering away.
He grunts back, the sound warm and amused. "That I’m the only man you’ve ever met who hates pineapple on pizza as much as you do?"
I laugh. "Okay, yes. But also... the fact that we both know all the lines fromTwisterand cry at the same scene inNotting Hill. It’s kind of ridiculous."
"It's not ridiculous," he says, stepping into the doorway, leaning against the frame with a crooked smile. "It means we were doomed from the start. You, me, cheesy disaster flicks, and inappropriate movie quotes at the worst possible times."
"And don’t forget the competitive Scrabble matches."
"That’s foreplay and you know it."
I roll my eyes, laughing as I toss in a pinch of oregano, the dried leaves crackling as they hit the bubbling surface, and give it another slow stir.
