Getting Rough

by Parker, C. L.

  Wedging first one knee and then the other between my own, he forced my legs to part so he could occupy the space. And Jesus, his cock lay heavy and thick in the crook of my thigh. His kiss intensified, becoming almost impossible to match until, without warning, he abandoned it altogether to look down at me. I was sure I must have looked confused, dazed, and breathless at the sudden charge in the air crackling with anticipation.

  And then he entered me. The broad head of his cock penetrated my tight opening, the defined ridge leading the way through the narrow channel to prepare me for his girth. My breath hitched at the slow intrusion, the stretch on the cusp of painful thanks to his large size. But the pain would subside and he would give me nothing but pleasure. I’d come to expect nothing less, and Shaw had never disappointed.

  Once he’d pushed all the way inside, he began a slow pace, filling me completely before retreating again. The next push forward was accompanied by the reward of a purposeful grind to stimulate my clit. Oh, and how very delicious it was.

  I closed my eyes, absorbing Shaw’s presence on my skin, in my mind, inside my body, letting him burrow deeper into a space I’d never imagined he would ever occupy. My heart.

  “No, Cassidy. I told you I don’t want to be alone. I need you to be here with me in this moment. Not just physically, but in every way imaginable. See me.”

  I really didn’t know how to process those words, but I knew that no matter how much it would likely destroy me in the end, I wanted to give him anything he asked for.

  With a barely perceptible nod, I whispered, “Okay.”

  I wasn’t even sure he’d heard it over the sound of the shutters straining at the hinges and the debris hitting the roof overhead, but something must have convinced him that all systems were Go because the way he moved inside me, the way he kissed me… may the powers that be have mercy on my soul as it crossed over into the afterlife. Because this new Shaw was going to be the death of me.

  Though we’d just begun, we had to stop to catch our breaths, and not even that kept us from wanting more. He kissed me again and again, resting his forehead against mine in between and staring down at my lips. This was the sort of kiss that went straight to your head and made you forget about everything else, including how to breathe. No oxygen to the brain tended to make one dizzy, so I had to hold on to keep from falling. But Jesus, I was too late. I’d already fallen, and fallen hard. There was no safety net, no bottom in sight. All I could hope was that Shaw would be there to catch me.

  Clutching him to me, my thighs squeezed his hips even as I tried desperately to bring him closer. His hands cradled my face while my fingers sought to find purchase in his hair. It wasn’t enough, so I dropped my arms and wrapped them under and over his shoulders instead. Finally, safety. Something to hold on to. Something to give me balance.

  I wanted even more control, but Shaw wasn’t giving it. For each time I tried to take the lead, he showed his dominance, countering every move with a redirect or a nip to my lip. No. God. I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t let him have that much control and I couldn’t let him know it was his to give. If he knew how I felt, if he knew I was in love with him…

  My breath hitched. I was in love with him. Crap.

  Everything went still under the weight of my realization as if some higher being had hit the pause button on the world. It was quiet. Too quiet. Even the howling winds and pounding rain had come to an end.

  Shaw slowed his movements, his hips abandoning the thrust to focus on the grind instead. He was so deep. So very, very deep inside me. Closer than he’d ever been before.

  “It’s the eye of the storm,” he whispered. “But it isn’t over yet. In fact, things are about to get rough again. Are you ready?”

  I knew he was talking about the back end of Ayla, but I couldn’t help but think how well his statement fit everything that was going on between us now.

  “No. I really don’t think I am. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge,” I told him. And I meant it.

  “That’s my girl,” he said with a slow and steady grind that nearly made me orgasm on the spot. “My girl.”

  And then he nuzzled my neck, sucking and nipping… marking me. His girl. God help me, but it was true.

  Running my hands along his back, I reveled in the flexing muscles there until I reached his ass. Closing my eyes, I stepped through the looking glass of my mind and recounted the memory of the way his back looked in the mirror while he’d fucked me in the bathroom of that private jet. Only, he wasn’t fucking me now. He was making love to me. Maybe it was wishful thinking from a mind that was still freaking out about my most recent revelation, but even if that were the case, I didn’t care. I’d let myself believe he loved me, too. If only for this one moment.

  I sank my nails into the cheeks of that divine ass, feeling the flexing of muscles underneath my fingertips as he ground against me. Closer. I wanted him closer. So I lifted my legs until my knees were at his ribs and then wrapped them around him, cupping his ass and drawing him deeper inside me.

  Shaw moaned at my ear, whispering, “Fuck, sweetness, you feel so good. I never want to not be inside you. Not ever again.”

  God, I didn’t want him never to be there either. But I couldn’t tell him that. It would give him way too much power over me. Though, truthfully, the power was already his.

  I loved him. And for the first time, I felt like we were truly connected. Not just physically, but on some other level. A level that penetrated the core of me that was almost as deep as what his cock was penetrating now.

  His groin massaged my clit with a delicious pressure that beckoned my climax forward. I couldn’t have called it back, even if I’d wanted to try. And I didn’t. I wanted to come on his cock, wanted him to feel the pulsing pull of my orgasm, and I wanted to milk him of his own.

  His skin was hot against mine, fevered more by his passion than the blood running through his veins. Each grunting thrust forward propelled me further, his thick cock moving so purposefully inside me and the broad head doing something very wicked to that gland of pleasure. It had to be swollen from the stimulation. Swollen and ready to burst. Oh, but I was ripe and on the verge of a dual orgasm; one from my G-spot and the other from the pressure on my clit.

  “Shaw, I’m almost…” I moaned out, unable to finish the sentence.

  “I know, sweetness. Me too. I’m trying to wait for you, but you’re so goddamn tight —” He paused, grunting through another deep grind.

  I bit into his shoulder and he bucked forward.

  “Fuck, you can’t do that. You’re going to make me come.”

  I didn’t care. I was almost there myself and it set off a sort of feeding frenzy inside me. I wanted to taste him, to feel his flesh between my teeth and savor the salty flavor of his skin. So I went for his neck, sucking with the groaning pleasure of the orgasm at its cusp. And then Shaw really got busy, the thrusting grind jarring my body with its force. My hypersensitive nipples ached in a wonderful sort of way under the compression of his chest, and the raging beat of my heart became heavy and dense.

  I moaned, the sound no doubt vibrating against his skin. Every muscle in Shaw’s body went even more taut, his ass still flexing beneath my hands. He needed more control, more room to move.

  I started to release the lock I had around him with my legs, but Shaw stopped me with a shake of his head and a raspy “No. Hold on to me, Cassidy. Don’t let go.”

  So I tightened the embrace, undulating beneath him and meeting the rolling grind of his hips. Oh, my God… the slippery stroking of his groin against my clit, the engorged cock moving inside me, the feel of his skin on mine, and the sound of his grunted pleasure at my ear… I had no choice but to succumb to it all.

  My moan started low, building and building in tandem with the mounting orgasm. With a one-two punch, the clitoral release hit first and the G-spot followed hot on its trail. Shaw pulled back to watch my face.

  “Oh, fuck,” he mumbled, and then his
lips covered mine as he moaned into my mouth.

  I felt it. The pulsing heat of his semen as he came. Not on my belly. Not on my thigh. No, his orgasm mingled with mine deep within the protection of my pussy. I could feel my walls contracting around his cock, milking him while still indulging in the pleasure he gave as his movements slowed to a stuttered pace.

  And then finally, Shaw’s kiss became less carnal, tender in the way his mouth softened and his tongue retreated. With one last suckle to my bottom lip, he pulled back to catch his breath and allowed me to catch mine.

  Shaw wasn’t moving, but I could still feel his cock throbbing inside me, and it was the most intense thing I’d ever felt before. Almost as intense as the way he was looking down at me. His lips were parted to ease his breathing, and a light sheen of sweat kissed his skin. But the thing I noticed most was the way his brow furrowed with a mix of contemplation and confusion. He wasn’t the only one confused.

  I felt his absence before he’d even completely withdrawn his cock, but somehow I still felt fulfilled. Lowering my legs, I gave him room to roll off me, but he stayed right where he was.

  What was it about the way he was looking at me that made the butterflies in my belly go berserk?

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

  I didn’t even need to think about it. I’d done enough thinking tonight to last a whole lifetime. And if this one night was all I’d have with Shaw in this way, I’d take it. Without regret.

  So with a shake of my head, I answered truthfully, “I don’t want to be alone anymore, either.”

  The smile that spread across his face nearly took my breath away. And then he flopped onto his back, slipping his arm under my shoulders to gather me to him so that I was forced to lay my head on his chest.

  “Good,” he said, and I could still hear that smile in his voice.

  Yeah, it was very good.

  CHAPTER 14

  Mia

  I was fast at work back in my room, cataloguing every detail of the storm raging outside, making notes of everything I saw and heard because if ever I found myself in a position to write a hurricane in the future, I knew that retelling the experience from my own point of view would make it as real as possible for my reader.

  But the hurricane wasn’t the only thing I was making note of.

  Casey had had some extreme emotional reactions that had led to a fistfight, a man overboard, a near-death experience, and the heartache of losing the one woman on the face of the planet that he’d ever cared anything for. Well, at least I assumed he’d lost her. He’d seen her screwing another man with his own eyes, for goodness’ sake. And if I’d learned anything about Casey while I’d been studying him, it was that he was as loyal as they came and expected the same in return.

  I was as shocked as he was by the interesting twist of Cassidy hooking up with a man she’d supposedly despised. We’d talked so much about her and their life together that I felt like I knew her personally. Though truthfully, she intimidated the hell out of me. She had it all: a loving and supportive family, a superstar career, local fame, and a boyfriend (excuse me, ex-boyfriend) who was a one-in-a-million rare find. How could she have left it all behind?

  People fascinated me. I was completely obsessed with figuring out what made them tick. I studied the way a subject walked, talked, dressed, gestured, their facial expressions, words they chose and the inflection upon them, the choices they made… everything. All those things that made each of us an individual. Not only did I study all the things of the present, but also of the past. We were a product of our surroundings. The way we reacted to situations was part genetic makeup, part the surroundings in which we grew, and part the lessons we learned on our own. Everything we did was preprogrammed at some point along our journey, and I wanted to reason it all out. It was a game, a riddle to be solved.

  But getting to know these people – getting to know Casey – had put an end to the game for me. It was real. His emotions were real. And I just wanted to live in his world. So I did it the best way I knew how. I wrote about it. Within the pages of my own musings, I was in control. I could feel his touch, taste his kiss, and calm his hidden fears… I could give him his happily ever after. And I could imagine it was with me. Though the line between what was a matter of my imagination and what was real had become blurred.

  Casey and Cassidy were the fictional characters within a made-up world inside an overactive romantic mind. It was every author’s dream to be able to reach out and touch them, to interact in a way that was tangible, real. My Jayson Bass and Janell Kain had come to life right before my very eyes, and I couldn’t help the overwhelming excitement it had given me. Of course that might have also meant that I’d become too familiar with their real-life counterparts in my own world, a familiarity Casey and Cassidy couldn’t understand and certainly didn’t feel. But in them, I saw my characters. They likely saw a crazy lady who they’d probably thought was being way too intrusive. Hopefully, they’d indulge my fantasy for just a little while longer so I could get my manuscript completed.

  I should’ve already been gone, but then Anna had hurt herself and Casey had told me Cassidy was on her way back home. I just couldn’t leave without meeting this infamous woman and seeing if she was anything at all like my Janell. Admittedly, after all the discussions about her – all the oohing and ahhing over how smart she was, how beautiful, how successful, how loved, and how absolutely perfect – I’d developed a girl crush. But she didn’t like me much.

  Cassidy was less than receptive toward me, but I tried not to take it personally. After all, I was a stranger and I’d been spending an awful lot of time with her ex-boyfriend, who didn’t quite get that he was an ex per all of our conversations. It was so obvious to see. Casey was still over the moon for her. In fact, he’d sworn the moon was her. Apparently, that had been their thing.

  I wished I’d had a thing with someone.

  A knock sounded at my door, giving me a start so that I nearly fell off my bed. Then I literally did fall off when I tried to get out of it and got tangled up in the sheets. Again with the knock, more insistent this time, urgent. Jeez, with the hurricane raging as it was outside the Whalen House, I hoped it wasn’t some sort of emergency.

  Finally gathering myself off the floor and finding my clumsy feet, I went over, willing myself to stop overthinking things. I had a really bad habit of doing that. But my instinct to do so kicked into overdrive when I pulled back the door and saw what was waiting on the other side.

  Casey was standing there, his chest rising and falling in that “quiet just before the storm” sort of way. Which was poetic because the actual storm outside was deafening. Soft baby blues that once promised comfort and security now matched the lonely, tumultuous dark waters of the bay and gave thought to a sailor lost at sea, looking to use every tool at his disposal to find his way back to the shore. Ooh, that was good. Where was my notebook?

  Swallowing the clichéd lump in my throat, I decided to say something rather than continue to stand there looking like an idiot. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah. Something is very wrong.” Casey’s voice sounded even more gravelly than normal in a very sexy, though dangerous sort of way.

  I was forced to back up as he walked inside and closed the door behind him like he owned the place. There was something in his eyes, something that changed everything and excited me while also putting the fear of God into my soul.

  “You said you could tell a lot about a person by the way they kiss.”

  I nodded.

  Getting right to the point, he grabbed the back of my head, holding me in place as his mouth came down hard on mine and his tongue pushed inside. There was nothing sweet about his kiss. No light nips of my lip, no precursory suckles at the corner of my mouth, no sweeping tease of the tongue begging for entrance like you read about in all the cookie-cutter romance novels. It wasn’t slow, nor was it gentle. It was desperate and rough and looking to prove a point. So unlike the man I’d
thought I’d come to know, but still exactly what I’d expected.

  The intensity of his gaze when he pulled back was no different from the kiss. “And what did that tell you?”

  Again I swallowed, and then I said the first thing that came to mind: “You need to be fucked.” I couldn’t believe I’d been so bold.

  “Wrong. I need to be the one doing the fucking. If you don’t want to be on the receiving end of that, you better say so now.”

  I didn’t say a word. Even if I’d wanted to, my lips would’ve denied my brain’s request. But he must have seen my acceptance of the offer in my expression because the already supercharged atmosphere ignited into something I wasn’t entirely sure I’d been prepared for.

  “Get undressed.”

  I followed the order, not because I was terrified of him, but because I was terrified he’d change his mind if I didn’t. I wanted to be his outlet. I needed to be his outlet. So I made fast work of shedding my yoga pants and oversized T-shirt, and thanked the powers that be I’d just had a shower and hadn’t bothered with the panties or bra. Once I was done, I stood there, awkward and very naked, waiting for Casey to finish undressing himself. I wanted to help, would’ve helped, but something told me my assistance would be unwelcome.