Chapter 62 Do you remember?
Kaden's looking up at me, and the look in his eyes is nothing short of lethal. His lips are slightly parted, and his hands are clamped onto my thighs, fingers digging into the muscle through my damp trousers.
I lean back against the rough bark of the tree, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. This is the most reckless thing I’ve done in over a decade. It’s the only thing in my life that doesn’t fit a structure, a routine, or a projected quarterly return. I should be worried. I should be calculating the risk. But I’m too busy watching the way his throat moves when he swallows, imagining the friction of his tongue.
"Get it out and show me exactly how much you can take," I growl, my voice a harsh rasp. "I want to feel your throat tensing around me."
He runs a hand up my thigh, tracing the rigid, pulsing outline of my cock. A small, dark smirk plays on his lips. "I don't work well under pressure. You should know that by now."
I’m so hard it’s a physical ache, a dull throb that makes every nerve ending scream. He doesn't rush. He never does. He undoes the button with agonizing slowness, the metallic slide of the zipper following it down. The cool evening air does nothing to dampen the fire.
"Have you been thinking about this?" I ask, my hands fisting in his wet hair to keep myself grounded. "Because I haven't been able to think about anything else since I saw you behind that bar."
He doesn't answer with words. He reaches into my briefs and frees me, his hand closing around my length in a firm grip. My breath hitches, a curse spilling out of me as my head thumps back against the tree.
"God, you're perfect," I mutter.
I watch him through hooded eyes. He licks his lips, his gaze fixated on what he’s holding. "I loved watching you lose control in your office," he admits. "I wanna see how much further I can push you out here."
I go to say something, but the words dissolve into a strangled groan as he leans in. He licks a slow, wet stripe along the head of my cock, his tongue rough and hot. He laps at the tip, teasing the bead of moisture there, before running the full length of his tongue down the underside.
If I wasn't sure he was dangerous before, I’m certain now. He’s a predator who’s found exactly where I’m most vulnerable.
He looks up at me one last time, a challenge in those hazel eyes, and then he opens his mouth. He wraps his lips around the head, sucking hard, the vacuum of it nearly making my knees buckle. Then he slides down, taking more of me, his throat working as he swallows me whole. The heat of his mouth against the cold air is a sensory overload, a beautiful, unfiltered chaos that finally silences everything else in my head.
He’s using his hand to stroke the base, his thumb digging into the root of me while his tongue swirls around the head. Every time he pulls back, nearly losing me, he plunges back down, deeper, until I can feel the back of his throat tensing around me.
I’m losing it. The man who always has a plan is gone. My head is arched back against the bark, the rough wood scraping against my scalp, but I don't care. All I can feel is the searing heat of his mouth. "Kaden," I choke out, my fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer, harder. "Fuck! Don't stop."
He looks up at me through his lashes, his eyes glazed with a predatory kind of satisfaction. He knows. He can feel my pulse thudding against his tongue, can feel the way my thighs are twitching under his hands. He slows down, just for a second, swirling his tongue around the head in a way that makes me seeing stars, before he starts a fast, desperate friction that has me gripping the tree for dear life.
I’ve never felt this exposed, this completely undone. He increases the suction, his hand moving in perfect sync with his mouth, a brutal, beautiful rhythm.
I can feel the vibration in his throat as he takes me as deep as he can go. My hips jerk forward, a reflex I can’t suppress, as the first wave of heat crashes through me. I’m right on the edge, the pressure behind my navel turning into a physical ache. His mouth's too good....wet, hot, and relentless. I want to shoot straight down his throat, and I know I will, but not yet. Not this time.
I have something else in mind.
I yank his head back by the hair, forcing him to break the seal. His lips are wet and flushed, and when he looks up, his gaze is dark, hungry....and visibly annoyed. He looks like a man who was just pulled away from a meal he wasn't finished with. The sight of that frustration sends a dark thrill through my blood.
"What?" He asks, his voice a wrecked version of itself. A smug, defiant tilt returns to his mouth. "Can't handle it, Bastian? You about to blow already?"
I'm still breathing like I’ve just run a marathon, my chest heaving. I look down at him, my grip on his hair tightening just enough to remind him who’s standing. "You’re the one looking at me like you're starving, Kaden. You’re desperate for it, aren't you?"
He doesn't deny it, he just watches me. I wrap my hand around my own length, starting a slow, torturous stroke. His eyes drop instantly, his pupils blown wide as he tracks the movement like he's under a spell.
"Do you remember?" I ask.
"Remember what?"
He’s leaning forward now, his hands sliding higher up my thighs, his body acting on a drive he clearly can't control.
My cock twitches in my hand at the memory. "What I told you that first day in that office. About this pretty face of yours. And exactly what I couldn't wait to do to it."
His eyes snap back to mine. He blinks, the silence of the vineyard amplifying the sound of our ragged breathing. I let out a low, amused sound. "You remember. I can see it in your eyes."
He looks around at the dark rows of vines, a flicker of that old instinct...the need to hide, to be careful....returning for a second before he looks back at me. "You’re fucking crazy," he mutters.
"I can't help it," I say, and I mean it. "Having you on your knees is enough to drive anyone out of their mind. Now imagine what’s going to happen to me when I’m looking down at you, looking like this... but with that face covered in my cum."
I wait for it the bite, the 'fuck off.' I can see him gearing up for it, the gears turning behind those hazel eyes.
"If you're feeling shy, we can save it for later," I add, my tone indifferent but my gaze fixed. "I'll just keep sliding down your throat until I'm painting the back of it. I’m happy to let you swallow every drop if you’re too scared to show it off. Your choice."