My lips part. He’s still wearing his pants, which hardly seems fair. But just as I’m about to point that out, he drops to his knees, and pushes his face between my thighs.
His tongue traces the upper edge of my thighs, along the crease where they meet my hips, and then he trails his tongue, flat like a blade, over the outer lips of my pussy. “You smell as good as you tasted,” he says, those eyes jumping up to meet mine.
He keeps his eyes on mine, as he straightens his tongue into a spearhead, and presses it inside me.
I moan, holding his gaze, my toes curling and every muscle in my body goes taut as a bowstring. The sight of this man on his knees between my legs unfurls sensations deep in my belly, a sense of pleasure, of rightness, and searing heat. He’s hungry, relentless, his tongue plunging into me again and again, and it doesn’t take me long to near a climax again, my whole body still sensitive from earlier, hovering at the brink.
“Fuck, Lark,” I manage to breathe, never taking my gaze from his. “Right there, oh, God… Don’t stop.”
But he does still, for a moment. Withdraw his tongue, and my whole body twists in frustration. “Ask me nicely,” he says, breath hot against my skin.
“Please,” I gasp, not even caring how I sound anymore. I’m desperate. “Please, Lark, let me come.”
He smirks. And then he plunges his tongue back inside me. Licks and licks, until my head falls back and I lose track of time, space.
I cry aloud this time, not bothering to try to stifle it. My voice echoes in the big, open space, and my toes curl, my thighs tightening around his head.
But he doesn’t waste any time. I’m still trembling, my pussy soaked and twitching after the force of the orgasm, when he rises to his feet again and pushes his jeans down.
God. His cock, where it springs free, is a thing of glory. Thick and veined along one side, with a glistening spot of precum at the tip. I reach for him, but he’s already pulling something from a side drawer—a condom. He tears open the package, but I take it from him then, eyes on his.
“I want to feel you,” I tell him. So I take my time rolling the condom down the length of his thick shaft. Jesus. It takes both of my hands combined to fit around him, he’s so thick. Will he fit? Part of me wonders. But the rest of me is eager to find out.
He steps closer, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping tight.
“I want your cock inside me.” I lean back against the counter to look up at him.
He reaches up with one hand to brush my hair back over my shoulder, then cups my cheek. I tilt my face into his palm, savoring how warm he feels. He tips down, until his forehead rests against mine, and his cock is poised between my legs, standing hard, just inches from my pussy.
“Please?” I add, my eyes flickering back up to his, remembering how he liked that earlier.
His cock jumps with tension, and his smirk widens. “I just want to remember this, that’s all,” he says. Then he reaches down to wrap a fist around the base of his cock, and guides his tip to my entrance. “Look at me,” he orders, and I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. My gaze rises to meet his. “I want to feel every fucking inch of you. Savor every second of this.”
Slowly, so slowly it makes my whole body arch up and tremble with anticipation, he begins to press his cock inside me. The head of him slips between my lips and into my pussy, stretching me wide as he goes. He rocks his hips forward, pushes another inch into me, and a moan escapes my lips at the sensation of him filling me.
He keeps moving, keeps rocking back and pressing forward again, until, inch by inch, his cock pushes deep into my pussy. Finally, when he’s fully inside me, he pauses again, his eyes on mine, savoring my reaction.
His hands slide around my waist, tight, holding me steady.
“God, you feel good,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight.”
I clench my pussy muscles around him, and he smirks in response. I do, too. “Fuck me,” I breathe.
And he obeys me. He draws out and pushes back into me, faster this time, hard enough to make my ass rock against the countertop. His hands pin me in place, and he starts to build up rhythm, pulling out and thrusting back into me faster with each pass. I rock with him—or at least, I try to, thrusting my hips, but I can only move so far with his big, strong hands pinning me there, holding me right where he wants me.
At the same time, my hands trace over his chest, feeling the plains of his muscles, memorizing the feel of his body.
His scent envelops me, musky and heady all at once, and when his mouth comes down on mine again, I moan into his kiss, because it just feels so fucking good to surrender control, to let him take me however he wants.
He buries his face in my neck, his hands so tight they almost hurt, but the pain only adds to the pleasure. He growls, then, and the sound sends sparks through my body. “Fuck, Cassidy.” He bites my neck, his teeth sharp, stinging, but I moan with pleasure at the sting.
“Lark…”
“I need you,” he says, and those words send a pulse through me, make my belly tighten and my legs clamp tight around his waist. All the while, he continues to thrust into me, over and over, and the pressure builds, my whole body on fire with want for him.
“I want to hear you come for me,” he says again, and then, without warning, he pulls me up and off the counter, holding me in his arms. I cling onto him. At this angle, it drives his cock into me, right along my front wall, dragging over my G-spot as he holds me up in his arms and fucks me, hard and fast, his thick cock driving me wild.
“Come for me, Cassidy,” he orders, and there’s no disobeying the steely command in his voice.
I’m so close, right at the edge, my whole body shaking, my breath coming in fast pants.
“Do it,” he says, louder, and I scream as I come undone.
The orgasm hits me full force, makes my whole body tremble. He keeps right on fucking me. He pushes my ass back against the counter and pounds into me, his balls slapping against my pussy lips with every deep, hard thrust. His cock fills me, makes me feel stuffed, so fucking full. My body arcs back, away from him, and his lips find my breast, suck my nipple into his mouth as he continues to fuck me.
I’m still moaning when the second orgasm comes, hard on the heels of the first, making me writhe across the countertop. He slides his hands under the arch of my back, supporting me, holding me in midair as he nears his own finish.
He finishes with a growl, pulling me against him, crushing my soft curves into his chest as his cock thrusts deep into me. I’m still panting, slick with sweat, when he pulls out of me, bends to kiss me, softer this time, his lips lingering against mine.
When we part, he’s smirking again, watching me.
“Fuck,” I manage to say.
He laughs. And then he sweeps one arm under my legs and scoops me up into his arms. Thank fuck, because I’m not sure if I could have stood or walked quite yet. My legs feel like jelly, wobbly beneath me. But he carries me like I weigh nothing at all, straight into the only closed off room in this enormous apartment.
His bedroom.
He kicks the door open with one foot, and I catch a glimpse of a big king size bed, immaculately made sheets, and more minimalist decor. Then he sweeps me into the bathroom and deposits me at the edge of the big walk in shower, with the rain shower head and all. He flicks on the water, and it comes straight out warm and all encompassing.
Then he pulls me under it, while I’m laughing, and bends down to kiss me again, hot water coursing over both our naked bodies.
We wind up staying up all damn night. And I have no regrets.
3
Cassidy
At least, not until the next morning.
I wake up to the sound of an alarm clock going off, and I groan at the bright assault of sunlight pouring through the enormous windows. For a moment, I’m disoriented, confused. My tiny little apartment on a dingy block in the ass end of nowhere doesn’t get this much sunlight in the living room, let alone
my closet of a bedroom. My single narrow window faces a dirty fire escape, shaded overhead by my upstairs neighbor’s huge illegal balcony.
Then the previous night flashes through my mind, and I understand all the various aches and pains I’m feeling. Especially my pussy, throbbing and deliciously sore. And still naked.
I sit up, startled to realize I fell asleep nude. Normally I never do that. I never feel comfortable enough to. In the moment is one thing, but letting guys see me in broad daylight the next day is another.
When I roll over, though, Lark’s shutting off his alarm clock, also completely naked, and I have to say, it’s worth risking him seeing me like this, as long as I get to stare at him in return.
His eyes slide over me, devouring me hungrily, and I flush, a full-body blush that travels all the way from my cheeks to my toes. “What?” I ask, and he reaches across the sheets to drag me toward him.
“Just remembering how much I already want you, all over again,” he says. But just as our lips are about to meet—and just as I notice the bulge standing straight up in the sheets between us already, his cock hard and ready for me all over again—there’s another sharp buzzing sound.
I jump, startled, expecting it to be the alarm again. But Lark rolls away from me, cursing, and it goes off again, and I realize that must be the door buzzer.
I squint at the alarm clock. 10am. Shit. My meeting isn’t until the afternoon, but I’d counted on having a little bit more time in the morning to fully prep myself.
With a groan, I sit up and start to fish around under the bed, before I remember that all of my clothes are in the living room. Lark left the door behind him open a crack, so I edge around the bed and pull it open, padding outside to grab my dress first, from where it’s lying near the kitchen counter.
That’s when I hear the voice over the intercom. A woman’s voice.
“We agreed we’d talk it over first, hon,” she’s saying, and my stomach sinks all the way down through the floorboards.
Hon.
Oh no. Oh fuck no.
Lark has his back to the bedroom, so he hasn’t noticed me yet, standing stark naked in the middle of his apartment. He sighs and presses the button to respond. “Now’s really not a good time. I’ll meet you at the house, all right?”
The house? As in, their house? My heart beats so loud it’s like thunder in my eardrums. I yank my dress over my head, then snatch up the bra and panties from the floor, my head spinning too badly to concentrate and actually put them on. All I want to do is get the hell out of here.
I duck into the bathroom and shut the door behind me, heart hammering. In the living room, I can hear Lark’s conversation continue for a few more sentences, muffled through the door. I don’t listen. I can’t. I’m too busy smacking the back of my head against the door in frustration.
I’m such an idiot. I should have known that a guy like him wouldn’t be who he said he was. But I’ve got to admit, I didn’t think he’d be a full-blown cheater. Maybe just a stupidly hot, impossibly sexy guy on the rebound, but this?
I wait until the voices outside have died down, and then I speed out of the bathroom, grabbing my purse and stuffing the rest of my clothes into it as I beeline for the elevator.
“Oh, Cassidy. Morning,” Lark says, from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. If I actually meet his eyes—those sensitive, soulful eyes that I fell so hard for last night—I will lose my shit. Either start to scream or curse him out or just cry. Either way, regardless, I’m not giving him the pleasure.
“I was going to make breakfast,” he’s saying, but I’m already slamming on the button to call the elevator.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice tight. “I’ve got to run. Overslept.”
“Oh… okay.” I can hear the disappointment in Lark’s voice even with my back turned. He pads across the carpet, heading toward me. “Well, can I get your number, at least? I’d love to see you again.”
“I…” Shit. He’s really going to make me do this, he’s going to make me call him out right now. Just then, the elevator reaches our floor and dings open, sparing me. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” I step inside and hit the first floor button as fast as I can.
I don’t know what I expect. For him to leap in after and stop me? But when I finally turn around, he’s just standing a couple paces from the elevator doors, watching me with a sad, confused look on his face.
“Cassidy,” he says. Or he tries to, anyway. The doors shut after half of my name, and then I’m sinking down, down, back into the real world.
* * *
I spend the rest of the morning forgetting last night. You let your guard down and made a mistake, I tell myself. It happens. But I fixed it. And now I never have to see that cheating asshole again.
That cheating asshole, who knew exactly where and how to touch you in ways no man has ever touched you before. Who knew just how to make you scream and lose all control…
Fuck.
A long, freezing cold shower later, though, followed by a coffee with a double shot of espresso, and I’m finally ready to face the real world once more. And especially ready to nail my presentation with the investors.
This is it. My big shot. My chance to finally get to share my makeup with more people than just my friends, family members, and the friends-of-friends who have become loyal customers. I started my business out of my own garage with little more than the savings I scraped together from my old job waiting tables. It’s time to take it to the next level.
Worst comes to worst, I remind myself, you can always fall back on waitressing.
But going back to the service industry is, quite frankly, the last thing in the world I want to do. I’ve spent my whole life dreaming of building my own company, something in the fashion industry I’ve always loved. When I discovered I had a knack for chemistry, and combined that with making unique color palettes of eyeshadows and lipsticks, all using eco-friendly ingredients that wouldn’t bother sensitive skin like mine, I finally felt like I was doing the right thing. Like I’d found my path, the one I’m meant to walk.
But, like any startup, money is standing in my way. More specifically, my complete lack of it.
Which is why I need to bring my A-game to this meeting.
I’ve dressed to the nines, in the suit I saved up to buy before I finally gave notice at my waitressing gig. I knew I’d need it for occasions like this, and I’ve kept it pressed and ready. Before I head out, I don my best powerhouse red lipstick, paired with a light, natural eye shade. My nails, thankfully, are still looking good, but I still give myself about five once-overs en route to the fancy high rise office building downtown where I’ll be meeting with the potential investors.
The one thing about trying to sell a makeup brand is that you really need to look like perfection yourself, as the first ambassador for your brand.
At the office building, a secretary greets me by name and leads me to a board room. “The partners will be right with you,” she assures me as she leaves.
My phone pings when the doors shut behind her, and I risk a peek at it. Becky.
So last night was a success??? She adds about a million winking and kissing faces afterward. I steal a quick look at what I texted her and stifle a smile. I must have sent it from the bathroom of the bar where we wound up after the incident.
Won’t be making it home tonight, I told her, but in a good way.
My stomach tenses, reading that now. I remember how excited I felt when I messaged Becky. Like Lark might actually be someone I could see for a while. Not relationship material exactly, but… he interested me. Intrigued me. I can’t even remember the last time a guy did that.
Even with Norman… I fell for him, after a while. But there wasn’t immediate chemistry right off the bat. I had to work to make myself fall for him—which I was happy to do, because he was everything I knew I should want. He was reliable, dependable, hardworking and trustworthy.
The whole real deal.
Or so I thought. Until he cheated on me.
Just like that asshole Lark cheated on his wife, I remind myself, thinking of the woman pressing his door buzzer, calling him hon. My stomach churns now, and I imagine what will follow for her. Unfortunately, I’m all too familiar with the process.
He’ll lie and say it was nothing; she’ll believe him for a while, until she finds a bra somewhere it doesn’t belong, or an earring in the bed. A million tiny things he can’t explain, until finally she’s forced to face the truth. She’s with a liar who’s been taking advantage of her naivety. Using her, and preparing to cast her aside the second he’s finished.
Unexpected tears sting at the backs of my eyes. Not tears over Norman. I already cried out my heart over him—and just as quickly realized he wasn’t worth any more pain. My only regret was that I wasted as much time with him as I did.
But these… these are new. These are because I thought I’d finally started to connect again, only to be completely fooled by a total and complete ass, an ass who—
“Ms. Marks?” The secretary is back, easing the door open to stick her head through. “The partners are here.”
I stand, smoothing my pencil skirt, adjusting the hem of my blazer. Then I smile, smooth and easy, the way I’ve practiced in my bathroom mirror a thousand times. “Thank you,” I tell her.
She ducks away, and another woman appears in the entryway, striding toward me with a confident, easy grin, and one hand extended.
“You must be Ms. Marks,” she’s saying. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Sheryl, the lead investor at Anderson.”
But I can’t respond. I can’t even look at her, because I’m too busy gawking at who just followed her through the door, trailing along on her heels with bags under his eyes, his hair slightly mussed like a hungover puppy dog.
Lark. Shit.
His eyes go wide when they meet mine. But he recovers at lot faster than I do. “Cassidy.” He sticks out a hand too. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Kiss Me Now Page 3