by Kendall Ryan
She sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed at my attention.
“Tell me what you feel,” I said, barely pausing long enough to get the words out. Then I was right back to licking her.
“So good. Incredible,” she said on a moan.
“You like my tongue against your clit?” I offered, enjoying her discomfort at having to speak the words.
“Y-yes!” she shouted as I sucked the bundle of flesh between my lips.
I alternated my movements, discovering what she liked. Spurred on by her shouts and moans, I nibbled and licked and sucked until she was bucking against my face. I whispered dirty words against her silken flesh, left bite marks on her inner thighs, and pushed her further than I suspected she’d been pushed before.
“Tell me what you like,” I said.
“Your mouth . . . it feels so good. Right there.”
Using broad strokes, I flattened my tongue against her, moving in a dizzying rhythm as her cries of pleasure grew louder. And then she was coming apart, pushing her hands into my hair and riding my face. It was a beautiful moment that seemed to last and last; each time I thought she was through, another low moan of ecstasy pushed past her lips and her body gave another tremble. Several moments later, when I slid up beside her, Paige was still gasping for breath, covering her face with one hand.
“Don’t hide from me.” I took her hand and kissed the back of it before placing it on my cock.
“Cannon . . .” She moaned, curling her hand around me.
All the pent-up lust and attraction from the past week crashed through me at once. “I need you,” I hissed as she continued stroking me in long pulls.
“Yes.” She rose to her knees, reaching for the bedside drawer. With trembling fingers, she produced an unopened box of condoms.
“Those won’t fit, princess. I’ll be right back.” In ten seconds flat, I was back, sheathed in latex, and joined her on the bed. She’d stripped off her T-shirt, and for several moments, I just stared at her, took my fill of what I was sure was going to be a one-time lapse of judgment on her part. I still couldn’t believe she was going to let me fuck her.
I lay back on the pillows, urging Paige into my lap. I held the base of my dick with one hand and guided her closer with the other. And then it was happening—the tight clench of her muscles around me, a sigh of pleasure pushing past her lips, and blissfully, no one to interrupt us.
“That’s it, nice and slow.” I bit down, my jaw ticking as she slowly—painfully slowly—lowered herself onto my cock. She seemed determined to take me to the hilt.
Finally, with a low whimper, I bottomed out inside her. Fuck.
“Christ, Paige.” Her body fit me like a tight glove, and I was unprepared for how right and perfect she felt. Her hair fell around us in a silken curtain as I brought her mouth down to mine again.
She was so needy and responsive, matching my thrusts and creating a rhythm of her own. Watching her was like viewing my own private erotic show. Her head dropped back between her shoulders, thrusting her breasts out for my waiting hands.
When Paige had called me out—suggested we sleep together to prove her point—of course I’d been game. But I’d had no idea it would be like this. I thought it would be like placing a checkmark in a box, a shot at living out my teenage fantasy.
But with her warm, pliable body writhing above mine, pushing her hips down harder and faster, her fingers clutching my skin, her soft, broken voice pleading for more—it was so much more than that. It was as if her every response to me was magnified, and I was watching it through a lens. My heart beat heavy and loud, my blood pumping hot and fast. I never wanted this to stop. And it was going to end way too soon if I didn’t slow us down.
I remembered that she’d said it had been a while, and I wanted to make sure this was good for her. Placing my hands on her hips, I eased her pace. “Come here, beautiful.”
She climbed down with a pout, like a princess booted from her throne, but she lay down on the bed where I directed her.
“We’re just getting started,” I reassured her, pressing a kiss to her full mouth. For a moment I worried if kissing her was too much, too intimate. But right then, I didn’t care.
Paige closed her eyes and kissed me back, a sweet sigh on her lips.
Chapter Seventeen
Paige
Cannon was kissing me. Deep, drugging kisses that made my toes curl.
But then he pressed into me again, pushing my thighs apart, gripping my hips and plunging forward, and I forgot about everything else. The sensation of him entering me was unlike anything else. And the look of determined concentration on his face, like he was almost in pain with how good it felt? I understood that exactly. It was almost too much to bear.
His every movement was controlled, each one designed to bring me maximum pleasure. I never wanted this to end.
“Has anyone ever fucked you like this?”
“No. Never.” That was the honest truth. He was so deep and so possessive, so vocal, commanding my attention and demanding submission. It was like fitting a key into a locked box.
Watching his thick length spear me—part me, plunge deep inside and then withdraw, wet with our juices—was almost obscene. When he bottomed out, I ground my hips against his pelvis, lost to the sensation. Allie’s little brother fucked like a porn star. That wasn’t a piece of knowledge I’d ever recover from. Shit!
“This pussy is mine right now. Isn’t it, princess?”
“Yes, yours.”
The way he’d pushed me outside my comfort zone, taking charge and making me tell him every stray thought, feeling, and emotion running through my brain while he pleasured me . . . it was too much, and yet I wanted more.
“Say my name when we fuck.”
“It’s yours, Cannon.”
He grunted something like praise against my neck and began pushing harder, faster, until we were both racing toward climax.
Fairly certain he would leave fingertip bruises on my hips, I pushed harder and faster against him, wanting to see those marks on my skin later. I wanted the physical reminder of what we’d done, if only to make sure I hadn’t dreamed this.
And then I was coming, clenching around him, milking him with a shout. Cannon gave a growl near my throat, his ass muscles tightening under my hands as he buried himself deeper than ever. I felt every hard throb of his cock as he pulsed inside me. It seemed to go on forever as waves of ecstasy rushed through me.
He kissed my neck, taking his time to pull out slowly and then roll over to lie beside me.
“Fuck, princess.” He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling fast.
A smile uncurled on my lips, and a sense of pride washed over me. The moment it was over, I knew that I’d won. Amazing orgasm? Check. But my feelings for Cannon? They were largely unchanged. This wasn’t love. Thank God. That was the last complication I needed in my life.
He pulled me close, our naked bodies at ease together.
Cannon tugged the sheet up around us, and I rested my head against his chest. “Not in love with me yet, are you?” he asked with a smirk.
“Not even close.” I propped up on one elbow, looking down on him. “You were right about two things, though.”
He met my gaze with a soft smile. “And what was that?”
“You weren’t kidding about your size or your stamina. But no, this isn’t love. That was carnal lust.”
“Agreed. Now, come here.”
“But you said once. That was the agreement.” Any more than that could be dangerous for my heart.
“You’re not in love yet.” Cannon’s hand drifted under the sheet, sliding down my belly to softly stroke between my legs. “And this pussy is still soft and wet for me.”
“I don’t know,” I whined.
“That was so fucking good,” he said, turning toward me and kissing my neck again. “I want more.”
“Just good?” I teased.
He slipped one long finger inside me. “
Forgive me. Good was the wrong word. Incredible. Amazing.” He withdrew his finger and pressed in slowly again. “So warm and snug. I want to live in there.”
Cannon removed the spent condom and sheathed himself in another as I lay there, my thighs parted, ready for everything he could give me.
• • •
It had been two days since we’d had sex, and life had moved on. I went back to work, and so had Cannon, and we acted like everything was normal. He gave no indication that his world had been knocked off its axis, so of course I’d done what I needed to do to convince him we were cool. But today, things downstairs had taken a drastic turn, and I could no longer pretend I was fine.
My lady parts burned. They were swollen and angry and red. I knew exactly what was going on. God was punishing me for sleeping with my best friend’s brother.
“Paige?” Cannon asked, rounding the corner toward my bedroom.
After work, I’d collapsed on my bed and hadn’t moved since. Cannon stood at my door in his scrubs, navy blue and faded. He looked so delicious like that; I didn’t think I’d ever tire of seeing him dressed for work.
“Hi,” I offered weakly.
A look of concern crossed his features. “What’s going on?”
Pulling a deep breath into my lungs, I steeled my nerves. This was not a conversation I wanted to have. Ever. But it needed to be done.
I released a heavy sigh and met his eyes. “I think you gave me an infection.”
His eyebrows pushed together, and he took several steps closer. “That’s not possible. I’m clean; I promise. And besides, we used a condom.”
We had used a condom. Both times that morning we’d made love. No, had sex. The L-word didn’t enter this equation.
Cannon stalked closer. “What are your symptoms?”
Even though I knew his medical opinion would help, I looked away, stammering, “This is a total invasion of privacy.” Picking at my thumbnail, I stared down at my hands. I prayed silently for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
“Tell me, Paige. I can help.”
My face was on fire. “It’s red down there, and tender and sore. And itchy. I think I have a rash.”
“Let me take a look.”
My gaze snapped up to his. “No way. You’re not looking at my hoo-ha.”
“I already have, you realize. I had my entire face down there. If I take a look, I can determine whether it’s anything to worry about. But I can’t help unless I see.”
I swallowed. Fuck! Of all the fucked-up situations to find myself in, I couldn’t imagine a more embarrassing scenario. After sitting paralyzed for another few moments, I nodded and reluctantly stood to strip off my jeans.
Cannon went to the bathroom, and I heard the water running. He was washing his hands. When he returned, I was standing beside the bed.
“The panties too,” he murmured.
“Can’t you just take a quick peek beneath them?”
He shook his head. “Take them off, and then lay back with your knees open.”
Kill. Me. Now.
While I obeyed, Cannon’s eyes traced my movements. This was just weird.
I lay back, propped up on pillows, and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Just relax, princess,” he said, sitting down on my bed between my parted legs.
Certain I was going to die of embarrassment, I stared blankly up at the ceiling.
“Take a deep breath and open your knees.”
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I did as he asked.
“Interesting . . .” He hesitated, using one finger to softly touch my swollen flesh. His touch was so careful, so reverent, it made my heart swell despite my embarrassment.
“What do you mean, interesting? What the hell is it?”
He met my eyes. “How long after sex did the symptoms start?”
“I noticed it when I woke up the next morning.”
He nodded. “That’s what I figured. It’s a latex allergy.”
I sat up so I could stare incredulously at him. “I’m not allergic to latex.”
“Your vagina begs to differ. We can develop new allergies over time. You’ll be fine . . . you just need to abstain from sex until it’s healed, probably three to five days, and then find a latex-free condom alternative going forward.”
“Right. Well, thanks.” I rose and tugged my underwear back on. I guessed having a roommate who was also a doctor had its perks.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I feel bad. I was basically the reason this happened.”
His sentiment was sweet, and yeah, in a weird way, his latex-covered schlong was to blame, but I couldn’t fault him. A good time was had by all.
“I’ll be fine.” I shifted, wincing in discomfort.
Cannon frowned. “That’s what I thought.” He piled up some pillows behind me. “Lay back down.”
When I resisted, frowning at him, Cannon merely chuckled. “You’re not a very good patient. Just chill for a minute and let me make a phone call. I can’t prescribe drugs yet, but I’m betting that when I call Dr. Haslett—”
“Who?”
“The attending physician I worked with in gynecology. I’m sure he’ll write you a prescription. An oral steroid will clear this up fast. You’ll feel better very soon, princess.”
At his deep, silky voice not only promising to make me better, but calling me by that endearing nickname, I couldn’t help but smile at him like a lovesick little fool.
I relaxed against the pillows while Cannon pulled his phone from his pocket and walked out into the hall to place his call.
A few minutes later he was back, looking annoyed.
“What did he say?” I asked. “Can I get the steroid?”
Cannon grunted something that sounded a lot like yeah and sat down on the edge of my bed.
“Then what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “The bastard wanted me to take a picture and text it to him.”
“Of my vagina?” I shrieked.
Cannon’s nostrils flared and he nodded once.
“Ew. That can’t be ethical.”
“I asked him to treat you without actually seeing you, but yeah, that’s just creepy. Ethical or not, I told him to fuck off.” He pressed his lips tight, still pissed. “He saw the light pretty damn quick.”
A surge of pride, knowing Cannon had defended my wounded vagina’s honor, coursed through me.
His expression softened to return my smile. “What do you want to do tonight?”
I blinked at him, sure that he wasn’t implying we spend it together. I’d been operating under the impression that we were trying to keep our polite distance, making sure that, aside from our one-time affair, real feelings didn’t develop.
“I’m thinking pajamas, carryout, and movies. You in?”
“Only if you promise to actually wear pajamas this time.” I remembered the night he crawled into bed with me; he’d slept only in his boxers. And then, of course, what followed when we woke up was the reason I was lying here sore and on the outs.
“Where’s the fun in that?” He smirked.
I wagged my finger at him. “Oh no, you don’t. Don’t be cute and flirty when my vagina’s out of commission.”
“You think I’m cute.”
It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t answer. He was more than cute, he was damn sexy, and he knew it. Instead I just huffed, “I get to pick the carryout.”
“Deal. You pick out what you want, and I’ll run out and get it. I’ll grab your prescription from the hospital pharmacy on the way.” He offered me his hand and I took it, rising from the bed to follow him to the living room.
We ate Thai food together on the couch. Downloaded a Vince Vaughn movie that made us crack up with laughter.
“So, seriously, should I be offended that you’re not in love with me yet? Maybe I’ve lost my touch,” Cannon said, watching me with a challenging smile.
I chuckled, almost nervously, and shook my head. “Sounds to me li
ke you’re fishing for compliments, mister.”
He shrugged. “Not at all. I just want to know, in your professional opinion, that one day when I find the right girl and unleash all this on her, there won’t be any disappointments.”
His choice of wording was spot on. Unleash was right. Cannon was a force to be reckoned with. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted, but that wasn’t what he was asking. He was obviously trying to get a rise out of me.
“I’m sure you’d make a shit boyfriend,” I said around a mouthful of pad Thai.
“Hey, I take offense to that.”
I gave him a knowing smirk.
“I’d be the kind of boyfriend who held your hair back while you blew me.” His voice was sincere, but his words were crude.
“How darling of you.”
Reaching out toward me, Cannon pinched my waist, tickling me.
“Hey!” I scooted farther away.
“So you really can’t think of any redeeming qualities that might interest the fairer sex?” he asked.
I no longer knew if we were playing around or if he really wanted to know how I felt about him. Since I couldn’t admit that yet, not even to myself, I stuck with playful, rolling my eyes.
“As if Allie would let you date.”
“Allie has no say in this. Assuming I did want a relationship.”
My world tipped sideways. “I’m not ready to have this conversation,” I said, my voice shaking.
Cannon watched me for several heavy heartbeats, and I thought he was going to press me to answer. But he didn’t.
I stood to clear our dishes and take a minute to just breathe in the privacy of my kitchen. When I returned to the living room, Cannon was holding Enchilada up, and was taking pictures.
“Did you just take a selfie with my dog?” I was a sucker for a man who was sweet to my dog.
“Maybe. Is that a problem?” He grinned at me, and just like that, our playful mood from earlier was back.
Chapter Eighteen
Cannon
I’d rather be at the gym right now, pumping out some of my sexual frustrations, but instead I’d come to check on my mother.