Cannon (Carolina Reapers Book 5)

by Samantha Whiskey

  The fabric protested over the head of my dick for a second, then fell to the floor. I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my socks quickly.

  Our mouths never parted as I flicked open the button of her shorts and yanked down her zipper. She lifted her hips, and I peeled her shorts off her ass, taking her panties with them down her thighs and past her knees, stepping back only long enough for her shorts to join mine.

  My jersey and her bra went next, leaving her naked and hungry for me. Her fingers found my boxer briefs, and then she squeezed the length of my cock through the fabric.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, leaning into her.

  “Harder? Faster?” she asked as her hand slid up and down slowly.

  “Goddamn, Persephone,” I growled.

  “Teach me.” She ran her thumb over the exposed head where I rose above my waistband, then brought her thumb to her mouth and licked off a drop of pre-cum before reaching for my cock again.

  I managed to grab her wrist, stopping her. “Not today.”

  She blinked, then ran her tongue over her lower lip. “I want to know how to please you. How to make you as wild as you make me.”

  “You already do,” I promised, stroking my thumb over the inside of her wrist. “But you start touching me like that, and I’m going to have to hold back, and I want you too fucking badly for that kind of restraint right now.”

  “But you’ll teach me another time?” she asked, already shifting her thighs.

  “I’ll teach you whatever you want to know,” I promised. I would. She could pull out the Karma Sutra and leave it on the fucking coffee table like a takeout menu if she wanted. We’d do everything she wanted.

  I let go of her wrist and ditched my boxer briefs. Then I gripped her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the counter.

  Our mouths met in another kiss, and I let myself off the leash. I anchored her at her hip, and took her breast with the other hand, thumbing the already pert nipple. She moaned and leaned into my touch.

  Then I tongued that spot on her neck that drove her crazy and was rewarded by a gush of warmth against my cock as she cried out. My fingers found her already wet and slippery, so I moved the head of my dick to her entrance. Fuck, she already felt amazing, and I wasn’t even inside her yet.

  “Are you taking me upstairs?” she asked as her nails bit into my shoulders.

  “No.” I grinned, letting every ounce of my intent show.

  “But…” She rocked against me, but she didn’t have the leverage to bring me inside. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “We’re not going to.” Hands on her hips, I pinned her and slowly pushed inside of her. I gritted my teeth against the pleasure that assaulted me as I took possession of her inch by inch. She was so fucking tight.

  Her breath came in jerky gasps as she stared at me with wide, desire-glazed eyes.

  “Put your legs around my waist,” I instructed, feeling her give and soften around me as I kept pushing forward.

  She did, locking her ankles at the small of my back. “Like this?”

  “Just like that. Fuck. You feel so damned good. Are you okay?” I rested my forehead against hers.

  “Uh huh.” She tried to move, but I wouldn’t let her. “I thought you said you weren’t holding back.”

  “Feel how tight you are?” I barely managed the words as I pulled out slightly only to drive back in, taking another inch.

  “I feel how massive you are. You’re stretching me, and it stings so good.” She gripped my hair.

  “There’s a difference between not holding back and not hurting you.” I’d made her come almost twice before I’d taken her that first time, but I’d been too impatient to wait now. I tilted her head with one hand and set my mouth on her neck.

  “I can take it.” She writhed and rocked against me.

  She relaxed, and I took that last fucking inch, seating myself to the hilt as she cried out, but there was only pleasure in her eyes. “You’ll never have to take it because I’ll never fucking hurt you.”

  “I’m not weak.” She flexed her thighs around me.

  “I know that. Now hold on.” I couldn’t hold still any longer.

  She locked her hands behind my neck as I pulled nearly all the way out and drove back in. We both groaned.

  “Again,” she ordered.

  I obeyed, taking her in another long, deep thrust as she called out my name. Then I did it again and again, starting a hard, slow rhythm and keeping it. She met my every thrust, taking and giving all in the same motion as she gripped my cock like a fist.

  “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this.” I took her over and over, letting my control slip slightly as I lost myself in her. Every stroke was better than the last, every kiss hotter.

  “Good.” She let go of my neck and laid back on the counter, her arms rising until she gripped the edge of the other side. “Now stop holding back and fuck me.”

  She looked like a wanton goddess stretched out in front of me, ready to be worshiped, and those words on her lips shredded what was left of my control.

  I thrust deep and hard. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes!” she shouted, arching her neck.

  I lost it, driving into her faster, harder, taking everything she gave, and giving her back only myself. Pleasure spiraled down my spine, and I felt the approaching orgasm gather.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I used my thumb to tease her swollen clit as I swung my hips like a piston, driving us both closer to the edge.

  Her thighs trembled, her stomach tensed, and then she cried my name as she came apart under me. Arching up as her orgasm took her in waves. Her pussy gripped me tight but still I kept driving on, not ready to surrender, for this moment to be over.

  “Again,” I ordered just like she had, and pressed on her clit as I shifted my angle inside her. Her fading orgasm stuttered, then flared into a second one.

  This time she screamed my name as she bucked under me, riding out her pleasure.

  She squeezed me tight again, and this time I let go, roaring as the orgasm ripped through me, nearly blacking me out. Fuck, if I came this hard every time we fucked, I wasn’t going to survive.

  I gathered her against me as we both gasped for breath.

  “You okay?” I asked as she wound her arms around my neck.

  “Uh huh.” She nodded. “You’re really, really, really good at that.”

  I laughed. “I’m kind of your only experience.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve heard stories. Girls talk.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to talk about me?” I kissed her nose.

  “Heck no. I don’t need anyone trying to steal you away. You’re all mine.” Her gaze dropped to the mixing bowl as she wiggled her hips. “Sorry about your shirt.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about the shirt. Ruin whatever you want.” Fuck, I was already hardening inside her.

  “Does this mean we’re scratching rule number five?” She arched her brows over those hopeful blue eyes.

  “Fuck rule number five.”

  “Oh really?” Her eyes narrowed. “What changed your mind?”

  I debated keeping quiet. It wasn’t like the woman needed any more power over me. “It was the jersey. There’s something incredibly fucking sexy about seeing my name across your back.”

  “Ah,” she said with a little nod. “Well, actually, it’s my name.”

  I laughed, and she grinned up at me, a dangerous twinkle shining there. “What are you thinking, Mrs. Price?”

  “I’m wondering exactly how many jerseys I can order. I mean, if wearing one gets you to fuck me like that—”

  I kissed her quiet, then lifted her in my arms and carried her toward our bedroom. “You have no idea how many ways I can fuck you, Persephone. But I’m going to show you every single one.”

  She bit her lip and then nodded. “Yes, please.”

  “So polite.”

  “Manners are everything.”

 
“You’re everything.” I walked us straight into the shower and started all over again.

  12

  Persephone

  “This is one of the best-kept secrets in Charleston,” Echo said, holding open the door to the boutique for my father, mother, and myself. “I know the owner.” She winked as she followed us inside.

  “Of course you do,” I teased. “I swear you have just as many connections as we do.”

  Echo smiled and shrugged. “Comes with running one of the most sought-after bars in the city.”

  “It comes from hard work and compassion,” my father said, grinning at Echo. “Don’t brush off your success. Own it. You’ve worked hard for it.” He patted her on the shoulder, and Echo swallowed hard.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said.

  “Oh, sugar, look at these!” my mother squealed from a corner in the back of the store. “They’re marvelous!”

  I hurried over to her, leaving my father and Echo chatting behind me. Both my parents had loved her, naturally, but my father had taken a true liking to her. I wish he’d extend that same kindness to Cannon, but, one thing at a time.

  “Look at this beadwork along the neckline,” Mom said, holding out a beautiful silk gown with delicate pearl beads along the deep V of the dress. “It’s divine.”

  I gasped, fingering the intricate design. “It is,” I said, and fiddled with the material in search of a label. “Who is it by?”

  “Me,” a female voice said from behind us. I spun to see a tall woman with gorgeous red hair and blue eyes standing behind us. She pointed to the sign above the section. “Luna,” she said, pointing from the sign to herself. Then she indicated the shop around her. “This is my boutique. Most of the items I painstakingly harvest from vintage shops, but this section here is all mine.”

  “You’re incredibly talented,” Mom said, and I agreed.

  “Yep!” Echo popped up beside us, my dad in tow, and grinned at Luna. “Told you,” Echo beamed.

  “It’s about time you visit me!” Luna said, wrapping Echo in a quick hug. “It’s been months.”

  “That door swings both ways, Luna,” Echo said, giving her a faux glare. Both the women giggled before Echo jolted and fished out her phone. “Not the babysitter,” she clarified, more to herself than anyone else. “Notification.” She glanced at me. “We’re up.” Her eyebrows rose. “Aw, they have Sterling in goal.”

  “We must be way up then,” I said, hating that we were missing the game. But I had to find a dress. “If they took Sawyer out.”

  Echo nodded. “Sterling is talented. Good kid, too. Sawyer has taken him under his wing. It’s good he’s getting in-game time.”

  I smiled, absorbing the knowledge and letting it sink into me. It had been a whirlwind month since our last girl’s night at the bar—the same night I’d made a fool of myself spouting poetry about my husband.

  My husband. The man I’d marry, again, and was shopping for the dress now.

  We’d fallen into a wonderful rhythm, not even missing a beat once the season started. I went to as many games as I could—both home and away—all while working with Silas on the new charity as well as planning this wedding with my mother.

  A beautiful, steady stream of delightful chaos. That’s what my life had become since marrying Cannon that fateful night in Vegas, and I honestly didn’t regret it for one second.

  Seeing Mom like this? Out and about and so damn happy? A much-added bonus.

  Though, a prick of cold pinched me when I thought about the truth—that my mother was Cannon’s sole motivation for re-marrying me and staying married for a time. To bring her joy—as a gift to me—before her final days. The kidney donor list was lengthy, and it didn’t matter how much money we had—Mama would never use her status, power, or wealth to try and hop the line.

  “May I try this one on, please?” I asked Luna, needing the task to distract me from the thoughts I tried to keep locked away.

  “Absolutely,” she said, taking the gown.

  “And this one too,” Mom added, handing her another. “You want to see your options.”

  I nodded. We’d already been to four other dress shops. I was beyond exhausted, but I hadn’t clicked with one yet.

  “I’ll go get these set up in a room for you,” Luna said, and Mom followed her.

  Echo’s phone rang, and she jolted again, eying us. “This is the babysitter! I’ll be right back!” She hurried out to take the call, and I smiled. Motherhood was so beautiful on her.

  “I like her,” Father said as he followed me to the dressing room where Mom and Luna chatted.

  “I’m glad,” I said, pausing. “She’s wonderful.”

  “But?” Father urged, reading my hesitance easily.

  “I wonder why you can’t extend the same attitude to Cannon?” Echo had just as many tattoos as him, and even more piercings. Her style and demeanor was close to his—despite their stories being totally different.

  “Echo isn’t marrying my daughter,” he grumbled.

  “Try married.”

  “Trying to forget it.”

  I sighed.

  “Echo has a plan,” he continued. “Cannon doesn’t.”

  “How would you know?” I countered. “You’ve barely spoken to him!”

  “What happens when he slows down? Huh? What happens when he gets hurt? How will he take care of you then?”

  I arched a brow at him. “Father, I haven’t needed a man to take care of me in quite some time.”

  “I understand that, Sephie,” he said, his voice softening. “I love you. I’ve loved you and cared for you and worried about you since the day you took your first breath.” He swallowed hard. “I want you to have the best life possible. And, I’m sorry, sugar, but I don’t know if Cannon can give you that.”

  Something like a blow hit me in the chest. “Why?”

  “His history is bloody. Violent. Darkness you shouldn’t have to deal with.”

  I shook my head, my shoulders sinking. “You should know that those aren’t the only pieces of him. You should trust me and my choices.”

  He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but I didn’t wait for his response. I hurried into the dressing room where Mom waited anxiously perched on the cushioned bench next to the mirror.

  “You want to talk about it?” she asked softly as I unbuttoned my sundress.

  “Not really,” I admitted. There was no point. Father would learn to accept Cannon, or he wouldn’t. Especially since he’d leave once…well, once all was said and done.

  Then why are you fighting so hard to defend him.

  Good question. Yet another I filed away.

  “Your sister came by the house yesterday,” Mom said.

  I hissed. “And?”

  “She apologized to us. And to Gerald.”

  “Funny, I never got an apology.”

  “I think she’s afraid to speak to you. She’s so ashamed.”

  “As she should be,” I said, stripping down to nothing but my undergarments. I stepped lightly into the first gown, and Mom hopped up to help me zip the back.

  I looked in the mirror, eying it. Pretty, but…

  “Not the one,” she said and unzipped it again.

  I stepped out of it, smiling at her. I loved that we were both on the same page. Loved that she could tell what I loved and what I didn’t.

  “Anne will come around,” Mom said as I grabbed the other dress. “She needs to be loved harder. I’m not sure why, but she does. We have to do our best to not give up on her. Time goes so fast, and there isn’t much left and—”

  I cut her off with a hug. “Mom,” I said, needing her to stop. “I will forgive her, I promise.” I could tell she was worried her daughters would still not be speaking, and she’d leave this earth with unfinished business—because she took our fights on as her own, being our Mama.

  Mom straightened and nodded. “Enough about that. Let’s get this one on. I have a good feeling about it.”

 
; I sucked in a deep breath and let go of the grief I could feel building despite my mother still being here. Let go of the hurt from the pain my sister had caused. Let go of my father’s disapproval of Cannon, and slipped into the gown.

  Mom buttoned the back, and as she fastened the last one and stepped out of the mirror’s view, I gasped. The sleeveless cream silk hugged my curves and pooled around my feet, the deep V showing a little of my skin, the delicate beadwork glistening under the light almost making me look like I had some inner glow.

  This is the one.

  The gown I’d wear down the aisle, Cannon at the end of it.

  The picture was so clear in my mind like a movie I’d already seen. Him standing there in a tux, those sinfully dark eyes tracking my every step toward him, toward our future together. My heart swelled, each beat thudding with one singular truth.

  I wanted to walk down that aisle toward Cannon.

  I wanted to marry him, and no one else.

  Till death do us part—not some agreed upon expiration date.

  Forever.

  Tears coated my eyes—not of fear or sadness, but of joy.

  “That’s the one,” my mom said behind me, coming up to hug my shoulders.

  I nodded, choking back the tears. Tears my mother thought were for the dress but were really for the realization snapping through my soul like a lightning strike.

  Cannon Price was my forever.

  Asher Silas: Just got verbal confirmation from Weston Rutherford for a sizable donation for the new charitable focus.

  I excitedly read the text twice to make sure I’d read it correctly. Having a donation and support from the owner of the Raleigh Raptors—the NFL team Nathan Noble’s twin brother, Nixon played for—would be invaluable.

  Me: That’s wonderful! Thank you! Are you at your monthly poker game now?

  Asher Silas: Yes. Weston is having some drama with his QB but he’ll get confirmation on celebrity appearances as well soon.

  I bit my bottom lip, not wanting to cross the line between friendship and business too much, but ultimately decided I couldn’t not ask.