Page 31 of Beautifully Ruined
Clearly, he knows I’m naked under his shirt. I’m also wet, so can he feel that, too?
I bite his ear, licking at his throat. “I have ways of making you talk.”
His grin widens. “You do?”
Ugh, I need him to free himself so I can push down on him.
I grind harder, grabbing his hand and pushing it beneath the shirt, at my pussy.
“I do. Tell me what happened?”
“You want to talk about Enzo while riding my cock?”
Behind Cade, Enzo walks in. “I’m not surprised, Cade. All the ladies love talking about me. They don’t care who they’re fucking, they love saying Enzo!”
Mortification grabs me, and I stop, but Cade just laughs. “They might talk about you, but they’re getting it elsewhere and loving it.”
“Mickey D’s?”
“You’re not funny.” And Cade slips his hand further between us, taking advantage of my mistake of rising up to get off him.
He pushes a finger into me, his thumb stroking my clit.
Oh, god, it’s so good. Pleasure ripples through me, happy little fingers of delight. And even though there’s an added beat of dirtygoodness to it with an audience, I still try to wriggle off, but Cade holds me, curls his finger in me and strokes my clit, making me moan.
I look at him.
His devil’s smile says everything, and I really wish I had the strength to pull free, but I don’t. It’s too delicious.
“Think I left something downstairs.” Enzo at least has the decency to turn and walk out.
“Stop that,” I whisper to Cade. “You can’t with him here.”
“Can and did.” Cade nuzzles my throat. “Didn’t see you fighting hard to stop me. Your pathetic attempts wouldn’t fool a fly.”
“Cade…”
He pushes another finger into me, and I moan again. “You’re a dirty girl.”
“What does that make you?”
He suddenly pulls out and flips me onto my stomach on the table, spreading my thighs to stroke and tease my pussy with his fingers, sending me into sensory overload and a greedy need for more.
“A filthy miscreant?” He shoves his fingers back into me and starts to thrust as he bends over me. “Hey, I find it hot you like an audience. Tell me, were you getting off on the thought of being watched while I fingered you?”
Each stroke in me sends me spiraling up. It’s not even any kind of shock or surprise as to what is there. I know.
Bliss.
Pure unadulterated bliss, and it makes it all the more delightful knowing.
It makes it better.
I know he can make me scream and cry and beg for more.
Already, I’m unraveling at the edges, and I can feel that pressure and ache that come before euphoria.
And I love each journey and the different path that takes me.
