Better (Too Good series)

“Come out.”

 

She hesitated, then walked out of the bedroom, thinking absurdly that she was in trouble.

 

“Stop right there,” he said.

 

He looked her over standing at the end of the hallway. Just the right amount of distance to turn this into one hell of a fun game. Her hair was down, falling around her shoulders in tangled waves. She wore his old school Type A snowboard T and no pants. God, he loved when she wore his shirts. He already planned to fuck her before he even came home, but now that she stood there sporting his shirt and a silly grin, he decided to ravage her instead.

 

“This is how it’s gonna go,” he began. “I’m gonna rip that shirt right off you. I’m gonna put my hands all over your body. I’m gonna eat your * ‘til you come. And then I’m gonna bend you over this chair here and fuck you so hard you see stars.”

 

Cadence stood frozen at the start line, absorbing every word. They penetrated her instantly, and she thought she should dip into a runner’s lunge, position herself for an optimal launch. Because she was going to be the first to reach him. She was going to be the winner.

 

His lips curled into a knowing smile.

 

“Come get me.”

 

She charged across the apartment and jumped on him. She wrapped her limbs around his body, clawing at his shoulders, his back. He trapped the nape of her neck in his hand and forced her lips on him, thrusting his tongue in her mouth. She surrendered her own. They played an innocent game with their tongues while a separate, dangerous game was happening with their hands. She dug her nails in his back. He slid his right hand down the back of her panties, following the line of her crack until he found that sweet spot, already warm and wet for him.

 

“I wanna hear you tell me,” he said into her mouth.

 

“I . . . I want you,” she replied, nuzzling his neck.

 

“You want what?”

 

“I want you to—” She paused, searching for her courage. She’d already run to him. Pounced on him. Clawed at him. She could say it. She could say the words and own them. Embrace them. “—fuck my *.”

 

He plunged his finger farther inside, letting her squirm on him, her hips moving in desperate circles against his stomach.

 

“Look at me when you say it.”

 

Cadence lifted her face to him. Eye to eye, and she thought she’d drown in his. Stormy seas with one purpose—to sweep her up and sink her deeper and deeper into his love. She would go there, to the bottom of his ocean, stay there a lifetime as long as she could keep feeling this.

 

“Say it,” he whispered.

 

“I love you.”

 

He smiled brightly.

 

“I’m mad for you. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll take on the whole world. I’ll rescue you. Always, Cadence. You tell me, and I’ll do it.”

 

She hesitated, then pressed her lips gently to his. This time there was no force or desperation. It was a quiet kiss, made to show him she understood the gravity of his words. A benediction. And a promise of her equal devotion.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked when she pulled away from his face.

 

She nodded.

 

He walked her to the club chair and sat her down. He slipped off her panties before spreading her legs, letting them dangle over each arm.

 

“How can you do that?” he breathed, staring at her.

 

“I’m flexible,” she replied.

 

“And I love it.”

 

He dipped his face between her legs and ran his tongue over her slit. She hissed then moaned softly. He teased her open with his tongue, reveling in her gasp. She did it every time, even when she knew to expect it. Every time. Like it was her first moment experiencing his mouth on her. He wanted it to always be like this—every time they made love something strange and new. He wanted to keep rediscovering her.

 

He drew back and stared at her.

 

“This. This is the reason for everything. Did you know that?”

 

He lifted his eyes to her face. She was flushed and shining, leaning against the chair cushion with her golden hair spread out like a veil. She lay there glowing goodness, shining like a holy shrine. Open for him. Ready to receive his prayer, and to answer it. And he knelt before her in reverence, his head bent, hands folded in supplication. He said a silent prayer that she would always love him, always open herself to him and trust him completely.

 

“I’m gonna let you heal me,” he whispered. And then he kissed her between her legs, listened to her soft cries as his mouth sucked her gently, teased her clit, licked her over and over until he sent her spiraling upwards to heaven.

 

She lay there panting, radiating warmth. He pulled her off the chair and ripped her shirt off.

 

“I’m sensitive,” she said.

 

“Oh, I know,” he replied, tearing off his clothes. “And I won’t be gentle about it.”

 

“I didn’t say you had to.”

 

He hesitated for only a moment before pushing her to the floor. He lay on her and thrust—long, hard, and deep. She cried out, instinctively wrapping her legs around him.

 

“Spread those legs,” he breathed, pumping her hard.

 

“Nuh uh,” she said, giggling.