Page 83 of Point of Contention

My body clenched as my pussy searched for him but came up empty.

He edged the tip against my center and I held my breath as he eased inside of me just a fraction of an inch, then pulled back. My thigh muscles tensed, then shook with need. He dragged the head back and forth through my wetness again, and another shudder tore through me. My pussy throbbed, swollen and full, and so fucking desperate.

I closed my lips around his fingers and sucked, triumph warming my chest when he moaned in response.

Then he pulled his fingers free and the pressure of his cock between my legs was gone.

I whined as I opened my eyes and glared at him.

Cabot’s eyes darkened. His hands flexed at his sides. “Tell me where he touched you,” he said, his voice so low it bordered on terrifying.

With his words, memories of my few interactions with Master Gage flooded my mind and I closed my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Rylan. Look at me.” He cupped my chin and I opened my eyes. “I’m going to make you forget him.” He searched my gaze. “Do you trust me?”

I licked my lips and nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I trust you.”

His shoulders rose and fell on a sigh, then he bent to retrieve the riding crop and brought the leather tip my left nipple. “Your breast. Which one?”

I thought back to the night Gage put his hand on me. Pictured myself in the booth beside him. “My right one.”

I braced myself for the slap of leather against my nipple, the punishment I expected. The punishment I might deserve for putting myself in that situation. Allowing another man to put his hands on me when this one was waiting for me to come to my senses all along.

Closing my eyes, I awaited the flash of pain. But instead of pain, Cabot’s mouth closed around my right breast. He sucked gently, flicking his tongue back and forth over my nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

I moaned and opened my eyes, instantly locked in his dark blue gaze as he sucked and licked, cleansing me of any remnants of Gage’s unwanted touch. Shocks of electricity traveled down from the connection of his mouth on my tit to the center of my clit, a taut string of need that burned and pulled tighter with every ministration of his tongue.

When he finished and pulled back, my breast was red, my nipple swollen and bright pink from his assault, and my belly was a burning inferno of lust.

He looked into my eyes. “Where else?”

I took a shuddering breath. “My head. My temple.”

His eyes flicked back and forth.

“Right side.”

He gave a curt nod, then stepped to the side and placed a kiss on my temple, letting his lips linger long enough to bring a swell of emotion to the backs of my eyes, a tingle of tears. Then he lowered his mouth to my ear and said, “He’ll never touch you again.”

I closed my eyes and nodded.

Then the air shifted and I opened my eyes as Cabot kneeled between my legs. He dropped the crop again and ran his hands up my thighs, looking up into my eyes. His brow furrowed as he realized my eyes were wet. “Rylan…” He said my name on a pained sigh, searching my gaze as he began to question himself. “Have I upset you?”

I shook my head. “No, Sir.”

“Tell me how you feel.”

Loved. I licked my lips, then said, “Worshipped, Sir.”

His lips twitched with a smile, then he brought them to my core and licked a long, slow stroke from base to clit, spreading my labia with his thumbs to lick me again. Faster, harder, he stroked me with his tongue, sucked my clit into his mouth, then swirled his tongue around it and drew it between his teeth.

I moaned, dropping my head.

He murmured against my skin, then slid his hands between my legs, massaging me with his thumbs, then slipping his fingers inside me. It was more than one, but I couldn’t tell how many. He stretched me, twisted, scissored, fucking me with his fingers while he assaulted my clit with his mouth.

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