“I can smell how sweet and hot you are.” His lips smoothed over her neck, to her shoulder, as he pushed the neckline of her robe aside with his chin. “I can feel it, Cassa.”
His fingers slid lower, sliding past the desperate throb of her clit, stroking around it with the lightest touch before delving into the drenched, slick essence spilling from her pu**y.
“We can’t do this right now.” She wanted to cry at the knowledge of what was coming, the ties that would bind them even closer together, and would eventually destroy them both. Each time he touched her, each time he possessed her, she lost more of herself to him.
“We can’t? But, baby, we’re already doing it. Have already done it.”
She went up on her tiptoes as his finger slid lower, curled and thrust wickedly into the tight, desperate entrance that throbbed for his possession. A wailing, desperate sigh fell from her lips. Her head pressed into his shoulder, her hands tightened on his forearms.
Cassa could feel herself shaking, coming apart from the inside out as his finger thrust inside her. Her muscles clamped around the intruder, tightened. The heated wetness increased, making his way slick and hot as his finger pumped slow and easy past the tightening tissue.
“I need to be inside you,” he growled, his jaw pressing against hers now, the feel of his muscles clenching in the side of his face reminding Cassa of the control he was imposing upon himself. “I need to lay you down, Cassa. To touch you. I could spend hours, days, just touching you. Tasting you.”
Oh God. She lost her breath as white-hot need slammed into the muscles surrounding his stroking finger. Her womb clenched and tightened, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she was bare seconds from the most intense orgasm of her life.
“Do you want me, Cassa?” The question was an insidious promise of both pleasure and pain as he whispered the words. “Do you need me?”
She needed him like she needed air to breathe.
A whimper left her throat as his finger pulled back, and when it returned, another made the fit tighter, stretched her, burned her with a pleasure she couldn’t fight.
She had never had a problem fighting against desire, or attraction. Not since she was too young and too stupid to know any better. Not since she had learned the true depths of betrayal that loving a man could bring.
But now, the pleasure was too intense, too deep to ignore or to deny. His fingers f**ked inside her with slow, deliberate movements while his thumb circled the swollen bud of her clit and had it throbbing with the need for orgasm.
She was close. So f**king close. If the pressure was just a little firmer, just a little harder.
“Cabal, please.” Her hips jerked against each slow, deliberate thrust. “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never tease you, Cassa.”
She wanted to scream at the next thrust. The feel of his fingers pushing hard and deep inside her, sending a surge of violent pleasure rushing through her system, shocking it, and nearly stilling her heartbeat with the extremity of it.
She should be used to this by now. She should know his touch, be immune to the excitement that was just as fierce, just as hot as the first time he had touched her.
When her breath returned, it was in a rush, a cry as the next thrust sent her to her tiptoes and had her fingernails tightening at his biceps now. Close. So close. She was going to explode. She was going to destroy them both with the response beginning to build inside her.
“Come for me, Cassa.” His voice rumbled at her ear. “Let me feel it, baby. Let me feel you coming for me.”
She cried his name, tightened. She could feel the fragile threads of ecstasy closing in around her clit. Felt the need coalescing within her.
As his fingers plunged inside her once more, filled her, stretched her, the need began to expand, began to beat in a hard, rapid demand through her bloodstream. It was inside her, around her, amassing through her.
“Ms. Hawkins, it’s Sheriff Lacey.” The voice was an intrusion, a hated, horrible sound as she felt Cabal still. “Ms. Hawkins, are you there?”
She wasn’t here. She couldn’t answer. The breath was trapped in her throat as surely as Cabal’s fingers were trapped inside her sex.
A growl, harsh and dangerous, rumbled in his throat.
“Ms. Hawkins, open the door or I’m going to have it opened.” Sheriff Lacey’s voice firmed, became cold and warning. “Are you all right, Ms. Hawkins?”
The sheriff would have checked to be certain she had come back to her room. The receptionist at the front desk knew she was there.
Cassa shook her head.
“Answer her,” Cabal demanded.
A whimper left her throat.