Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,97
spice, our kiss quickening, deepening, like we were in a race: Who could consume the other first?
Me. I was more motivated.
Unfortunately, she had a leg up on me—not literally… not yet. But with my steely shaft caught between our bodies, even the slightest movement was fucking agony. It took everything in my power not to grind against her creamy skin and spill myself all over her tits. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have cared. Usually, I went straight for the gold, especially if I was this hard and wanting. But with Katja, I took my time, stroking her, mapping her curves with hungry hands. She had a mole on her right hip—raised and a little sensitive when I brushed over it. A dimple on her left ass cheek. Some cellulite on the backs of her thighs. An adorable little pouch above her cunt…
Womanly perfection.
Need more.
Exploring her with my eyes closed was one thing, lost in the kiss, never wanting to part, but seeing her was another. Innocently, my left hand climbed her body, smoothing over her heated flesh, cupping her breast in passing, wandering up, up, up—until it cuffed her throat. Hard. Just below the magicked leather, I collared her and thrust her back. Greedy eyes roved her figure, from her tits that trembled with every ragged breath to the delectable flush that stretched from her cheeks to her navel, to the dip between her thighs, the abstract watercolor tattoo—black and blue clouds swirling around her left calf, unexpected and artsy and somehow rather fitting—and then up again to the patch of fiery red hiding my prize.
Exquisite.
Mine.
The declaration appeared out of nowhere, and I clenched my jaw, slightly unnerved by the possessive flames unfurling inside me. Her hands went to my wrist, especially when I squeezed just a little harder, panic flashing in her eyes at my predatory grin. I let it drag on a little longer, grasping her like she was a catfish wriggling on the end of my line, before closing in and kicking apart her lovely legs. Katja’s breath hitched, but she steadied herself, knees slightly bent and feet flat…
Until I lifted her onto her toes.
Her eyes rounded a touch more, only to flutter shut as my free hand delved down her belly and between her thighs. I stroked her entirety at first, massaging her slickness, smearing her arousal over her nether lips. A caress light as air across her clit had her eyes snapping open, and I made her watch as I licked her desire from three of my fingers, slowly, one at a time. When those fingers returned to her sex, I found her wetter, her pale thighs trembling as I held her up.
I could have had this alone and been satisfied. Sure, my cock jutted out between us, desperate for closeness, starving to plunge into her inferno, but I would take a savage case of blue balls just to keep her on her toes and finger-fuck her through as many orgasms as we could fit in the next hour.
A heady, albeit strained, moan tumbled from her lips when I thrust a finger into her—then another, eventually working her cunt with three while the base of my palm smothered her clit. My little witch was so responsive to me, her hips bucking, her legs shaking with every torturous thrust. She fought to stay up on her toes, digging her claws into my forearm as she used me for balance. While hooded, she kept her eyes on me—on my gaze, and as tempted as I was to take mental pictures of her flushed, quivering body, of her toes all pink at the ends from the exertion and her tightened nipples dancing for me, I couldn’t look away either.
Especially when she came.
Katja’s knees buckled as she writhed and clenched around my fingers. I tracked the pleasure ripping through her, from the blush exploding across her skin to the sagging of her limbs, the climax milking what strength she had and leaving her limp.
Leaving her entirely at my mercy.
Fuck.
Jaw clenched, I dragged us across the space, not stopping until my back collided with the cold—grungy—tile beneath the shower head. Katja collapsed against my chest, her arms folded between us, her elbows driving into my torso and my cock stabbing at her belly.
“Ugh, sorry,” she whispered shakily, taking in our backdrop. “I can—”
“Shut your beautiful mouth,” I hissed, then plucked at her lower lip for good measure. “It’s worth it… I can take it.”