Page 11 of Take You

“Remember what I said earlier? I always keep my promises.” I’d been so focused on what we were feeling that his voice had come as a shock, though his meaning became clear as he drove into me, thrusting me roughly against the hand basin. The cold, hard porcelain was a shock on my skin. “You might want to brace yourself again, this isn’t going to be gentle.”

I swore to God he could read my thoughts. His words came just as I’d reached out for the edge of the basin with the same idea in mind.

Kane lowered the hand that had been circling my nipple and placed it on my stomach, using it to give him leverage as he thrust back and forth inside me. Jesus. The feeling of his dick pressing against his hand from the inside had me almost collapsing with arousal, but I managed to stay upright in a feat of sheer will, and the strength of my arms gripping the basin for dear life.

His movements were like a carnal dance—rough, wild, and unpredictable, yet somehow carefully choreographed to keep me endlessly on the edge of orgasm but not send me over, to spiral out of control into the vast abyss below. He’d thrust just deep enough, just hard enough, and just fast enough for me to see my climax forming in my mind’s eye, but then as I moved to try to grab it with both hands, he’d still himself and draw to a halt, then hold me still, also.

I’d had delayed orgasms before, but nothing as extreme or earth-shatteringly frustrating as this. As unbelievable as it felt at some points, at others, I wanted to tear him limb from limb for making me suffer the pain-tinged pleasure that way. Edging like that was the ultimate turn-on and torment, and somehow dangerously compelling.

While at the same time I wanted him to stop, and let me get my rocks off, I was desperate to keep chasing the high as long as I could bear it. It wasn’t just me suffering for gratification, either, his grunts of arousal as we teased around our orgasms told me that he was also hovering on the precipice. A few times he stopped so abruptly, quickly squeezing at the base of his dick, that I guessed he was closer to coming than he would have liked to be.

On those occasions, I tried to move my body and swirl around him enough to tip him over the edge, but he resisted each time, squeezing my hips painfully tight to stop me in my tracks and hold me in place. Damn, he was an asshole, but a deliciously addictive one. He was like a potent drug—the more he withheld, the more I demanded. Then when I got what I thought I wanted, I immediately needed more.

We continued that way until I couldn’t think, see or even stand straight, then carried on some more. Each time I tried to push far enough to come, he’d rob me of my release at the last moment.

“Please.” I’d gotten to the point where I felt I couldn’t continue without losing my mind, or my dignity, or both.

“Please what?” He jerked my head back farther, his voice a low menacing hiss in my ear.

“Please.” If he wanted more from me, he was shit out of luck, because that was all I had to give.

“Okay.” He bent his knees, maneuvering so that he was directly under me, then straightened his legs abruptly, impaling me on his dick at the same time as he moved both hands to my tits and squeezed my nipples, hard.

I came quietly with my eyes screwed tightly shut, but with a force and ferocity that took my breath away. The level of intensity was nothing I’d ever experienced before. Kane came with me, also hardly making a sound, yet I read so much in the weight of the near-silence that that it shook me to my core.

“That was... unexpected, and as much as I’d like to stay for round three, I have to cut and run, unfortunately.”

“I think the phrase you’re looking for is pump-and-dump, but yeah, it’s cool—this wasn’t exactly in my plan for the day either.” Because why would public humiliation, followed by public humiliation with coffee, then a little afternoon delight with an almost-stranger, be part of my normal daily plan? “I have a heap of shit I need to get done, also.”

“This definitely isn’t a P&D type sitch. I meant it when I said I’d love to stay longer, but I can’t. I also meant what I said before about the date. I put my number in your phone while you were drying off in the bathroom at the café. Call or message me, and we’ll catch up.” He was stalking around the room grabbing at discarded items of clothing and dressing as he spoke.

“Uh... okay. I guess.”

Based on how he’d been at the café, I was a little surprised by his demeanor, but in the wider world, the level of arrogance on display was no surprise at all, and it was nothing compared to what I was used to.

Sure he had money, and everything about him screamed wealth—his clothes, the way he talked, even the way he walked, definitely the car he’d given me a ride in, which was probably worth more than the apartment I was renting—but he was by no means as douchey as Charlie and his pencil-dick buddies.

“Cool. I look forward to it.” He bent down and swiped a quick kiss over my lips, and just like that, he was gone.

Chapter 8

Fox

“So?”

“So what?” Kane shrugged huffily. He’d just walked in the door to our room, and was acting strange, for want of a better word.

“So, do you like maple syrup on your pancakes? You fucking know what. How did it go?”

“It went okay. Good. It was good. Didn’t you see my text?”

“Yeah, I did, but those words, and the ones coming out of your mouth now, say one thing, but your body language is saying something totally different. So, what’s eating you?”

“Nothing. It’s on. We’re on.”

“Okay, but?” I looked at him long and hard, reading him, even though he was trying hard not to be read. Weird.

“Why are you saying ‘but’? There’s no but. It is what it is.” He stared at the floor as though it was his arch nemesis, and his shoulders were hunched up to his neck. He tended to hold tension there.

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