Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)

She took a step back as he followed her into the vestibule and kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.

The keys hit the floor at the same time he jerked her into his arms, his mouth slamming down on hers with such force, their teeth clashed, their bodies writhing to get closer, their breath shallow and rough as they reached for each other mindlessly. Turning her around, he backed her against the door, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, frantically sliding against hers as he pushed against her, his thick, hard erection pressing against her sex. She moaned, letting her head fall back, and felt Cain’s hands at the buttons of her shirt.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he panted, then ripped the two halves of the shirt apart, letting the buttons scatter all over his hardwood floor. “I can’t go slow.”

She scrambled for the front clasp of her bra, desperate to free her breasts for him, but he was faster, pushing the cups up and over her flesh and exposing two pebbled nipples. Her hands plunged into his short hair as he lowered his head and took one between his lips, sucking strongly as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger.

Whimpering from the sharpness of the sensation, she clawed at his skull, and he groaned, his teeth razing her nipple and making her cry out. Growling with impatience, his hands were suddenly cupping her ass, and he lifted her easily. She locked her ankles around his waist, clawing at the hem of his T-shirt as he strode through the house, to the stairs, ducking his head so that she could push his shirt over his head to bare his chest. The hard planes of his abs pushed into the softness of her breasts as he climbed the stairs, still nipping at her lips.

With one foot, he pushed open a door, and suddenly she was surrounded by Cain’s smell—man and motor oil, cut grass and fresh air. As her feet touched the floor, he reached for her shirt and bra, pulling them over her head, then doing the same with his shirt, which was caught on the back of his neck.

Both bare from the waist up now, he grabbed her again, pulling her on top of him as he fell back onto the bed.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Ginger sat up, straddling Cain, and smiled down at him.

“You are . . . the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” said Cain, pillowing his hands behind his head, his dimples deep and delighted.

She arched her back, cupping her breasts and pressing them together.

“Fuuuuck,” he growled. “And you are definitely goin’ to kill me tonight.”

“Not even,” she murmured, sliding experimentally over the swollen bulge in his jeans. She leaned toward him a little and placed her hands on his hips, tracing the V of muscle that disappeared into his pants. “You are beautiful too.”

He leaned up on his elbows. “What now?”

“You were my first kiss,” she said, dropping her fingers to the button of his jeans and twisting it open. “And my first love,” she said, pulling down the zipper.

She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulled both down at the same time, watching intently as she revealed his erection. His hair was jet black in coiled springs. His cock was huge and hard, twitching lightly like a bull ready to break out of its pen, with light blue veins bulging and twisting down its sides. She yanked again, and the ruby head sprang free, knobbed and throbbing.

Her eyes flicked to his for a moment—and she drowned in them a little as her hand slid around the base of his sex, her fingers clasping him firmly as they stared at each other. His eyes were wide and black, his nostrils flaring, his chest rising and lowering with panted breaths.

“Princess,” he groaned, his eyes pleading with her.

“So many firsts,” she murmured, lowering her head and slowly taking his entire length into her mouth.

He made a strangled sound from the back of his throat, and his hips lifted from the bed as she raised her head, dragging her lips back up over the taut pipe of flesh. Licking her lips, she took him deep again, her panties flooding from the sounds he made—deep, guttural moans of pleasure that made her feel like a goddess. She raked her teeth lightly against him as she raised her head. Swirling her tongue over the red knob of his head, she licked the pre-cum from his tip, then, without warning, took him deep again. Pumping the base of him with her hand, she fucked him with her mouth, reveling in the way his hands fisted in the sheets and his hips stayed lifted off the bed and elevated.

“Gin,” he panted, “Gin, you have to stop.”

“Nuh-uh,” she objected, licking him slowly from base to tip before tonguing his head again with long, slow laps and soft moans.

“Baby, I’m goin’ to come,” he grated out.

She raised her head, nailing him with her eyes. “Promise?”

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed as she wet her lips with her tongue and slipped them over him again, lowering her mouth slowly.