Chapter 80 Chapter 80

Chapter 80 Chapter 80
Caden

I grind my hand against her clit again, then deftly pop the button on her jeans and unzip her fly.
This is insanity, pure fucking danger, absolute stupidity.

But I couldn’t stop if I tried.

My hand delves into her pants, and my cock throbs, a flood of desire shooting through me. Goddammit. She’s wet. She’s so fucking wet that she’s soaked through the crotch of her panties, and I can feel her sticky arousal coating my fingers as I slide them through her folds.

We both groan, and she grabs onto my forearm with both hands, her nails digging into my skin like tiny pinpricks. But even that bite of pain isn’t enough to wake me from this dream, to snap me out of this madness.

“What do you do?” My voice is hoarse, my throat tight. The pads of my fingers find her clit and work circles around the hard, swollen nub. “When you think about that night, what do you do?”

She’s breathing faster, her ass grinding against the hard-on that’s pressing into her through the layers of fabric that separate us. I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it, but it makes spots dance before my eyes, makes my cock ache to bury itself inside her.

“I touch myself,” she gasps, her fingernails leaving little crescent-shaped marks along my arm. “I touch myself, and I pretend it’s you. I think about the way you fucked me, and I make myself come over and over.”

“Like this?” I grunt, picking up the pace of my fingers. “You touch yourself like this?”

“Harder,” she groans, her head tipping back, her body shaking. “Faster.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I thrust my hips, pulsing my cock against her firm, round ass as I massage her clit in a blur of motion. The arm that’s wrapped around her chest moves just enough for me to grab her chin, my fingers splaying across her jaw as I angle her head so I can kiss her.

She tastes like honey, damnation, and regret.
Her hips buck into my touch as her tongue brushes against mine, and the noise she lets out nearly makes me come in my fucking pants.

It’s… surrender.
I don’t know if she’s surrendering to me or to the uncontrollable chemistry between us, but I don’t even care.

All I know is that her back arches, her ass grinds against my dick, and she whimpers helplessly as she writhes in my arms. A fresh gush of wetness coats my hand, and I want to bring it to my mouth, to suck every bit of her sweet-as-fuck cream from my fingers, but I can’t stop touching her.

I can’t stop making her come.
It’s my goddamn addiction, and I don’t even care how fucked up that is right now.

Sliding two fingers inside her, I imagine it’s my cock she’s gripping so tightly. She comes again with my fingers stuffed inside her, and I don’t even give her a chance to catch her breath before I move back to her clit, forcing another orgasm out of her.

She rips her mouth away from mine on a loud, broken cry as she convulses in my arms.
When the orgasm finally subsides, she nearly sags to the floor, but I catch her around the waist again and carry her to the couch. She doesn’t resist. She just sprawls on the cushions, her arms over her head as her chest rises and falls with quick breaths.

She looks dazed, almost drunk, high out of her mind—just like I feel.

My cock is so hard I feel like I’m about to explode, but I turn and walk to the window, quickly drawing the blinds closed.

Anybody walking past might’ve been able to guess what we were doing as we stood with our backs to the window, but they don’t get to see Kimberley like this.
Only I do
.
This belongs to me.

When I turn around and stride back toward her, her hooded eyes track my movement. Her shirt has ridden up a little, revealing a patch of smooth white skin on her stomach, and her pants are hanging open.

Her soft blue panties peek through the opening, darker where her arousal has soaked the fabric.

I don’t slow as I near her. I don’t hesitate. I grasp the waistband of her jeans and peel them off her body, tossing them to the floor. Then I hook her legs under the knees, haul her toward me, leaving her ass perched on the arm of the couch, her upper body still resting on the cushions and her back arched.

Her eyes fly wide, and she stares up at me as I use my grip on her knees to spread her legs wider apart.

“What are you doing?” she gasps.

“Giving you something new to think about when you touch yourself, little liar.”

That’s all I say before I bury my face between her legs. My mouth clamps over her pussy, and I suck hard on the fabric of her panties, tasting her. Tasting the need she doesn’t want me to know exists.

I suck on her so long and so hard that she comes again, her hips twisting and her legs quivering in my grip.

But I’m not done. I’m not satisfied.
I’ll never be fucking satisfied.
I need more.

“Jesus. So fucking sweet…”

Lifting my head, I stare down at the soaked, bunched fabric that barely covers her pussy anymore. Her panties are wet from both of us now, and that thought makes a possessive growl work its way up my throat.

“You’ve wrecked me, Kimberley,” I mutter, dragging her panties down her legs, my gaze fixated on the sight of her pink, swollen lips. They’re glistening with her wetness, slick with her cream, and flushed from arousal. “You’ve fucking ruined me. How did you do that?”

She blinks at me, her chocolate brown eyes regaining focus for a second, as if her mind has clawed its way out of the haze of lust. And for just that brief second, a look like hatred passes across her features.

It hits me like a knife to the heart, like a death sentence, like someone snuffed out my fucking soul.

I freeze, rendered completely immobile by the look on her face.

I half expect her to shove me away, to gather up her discarded clothes and storm out. 

But instead, her hands whip out to grab fistfuls of my hair, and she drags my face back to her pussy, grinding herself against my lips like a punishment.
Is she trying to punish me? Or herself?

Maybe both of us.