Unbreakable (8 page)

He scooped two fingers through the cream then, his eyes on his hand as he brought it to her mouth. She licked her lips, swallowed, parted them and let him inside.

She swirled away the cream with her tongue, worked her way around his fingertips, in and out, sucking them, flicking them, watching his Adam’s apple bob, his nostrils flare. His pupils
dilate. Then she dropped her gaze and saw the truth of his cock straining to be free of his jeans.

Is this what it felt like to be reckless? Sex and Casper? After all these years? And with her brother sleeping upstairs—a fact that put the verifying stamp on her insanity, though the runaway beat of her heart in her chest told her that on its own.

Was his pulse pounding, too? Was he aching?

She used the tip of her tongue to push him away, her nipples begging for his mouth, her pussy for his hand. He knew what she was thinking. The look in his eyes said so, but instead of giving her what she wanted, he ate another piece of fruit, teasing her, making her wait.

She didn’t want to wait, and she couldn’t let him think he was running the show. They had to do this as equals, or they couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. And so she looked away, intending to return the fruit and whipped cream to the fridge, then return herself to her bed.

But he blocked her before she’d taken a second step. She lingered one long beat, devouring his heat and his meaning before meeting his gaze. His sizzled, caught on hers, his chest laboring as it rose and fell, his heart and his lungs struggling.

And then he shook his head, laughed, and gave in to whatever fight he’d been waging. He came closer, came lower, taking his time now that he’d made his decision, his nose against hers, his mouth hovering,
hovering
, and years beyond when she’d been ready, finally claiming hers.

He tasted like fresh fruit, cold and sweet, and then he was hot, his strawberry tongue tangling with the cream still on hers. He kissed like the devil he was, holding nothing back, burning her up. Making her want everything and more and all of it now, without a single thought for the consequences.

She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She let him do all the
moving, taking the bowl from her hands and stepping into her, his belt buckle, his hips, his thighs. Oh,
God
, his thighs. Bold and full, and so,
so
powerful as he took charge of hers.

He was hard and strong and solid, like a tree, a brick wall, and he was heavy against her, making her feel small and precious and in more danger than she knew what to do with. Her chest shuddered with an unbearable ache, and her breasts tingled, as did her thighs, her belly, the core of her sex. His rose between them, full and thick and unapologetic, and moisture gathered at her entrance and wept from her folds.

He lifted her to sit on the counter, slid his hands down to her thighs, then draped her legs over his forearms as he leaned his weight into his palms on the tiled surface. He bent, his lips brushing the strip of skin above the elastic of her panties, the strip of skin bared by the hem of her cami that had risen up her rib cage to her breasts.

She let her head fall back on her shoulders. It hit the door of the cabinets behind her and she left it there, closed her eyes, covered Casper’s hands with her own and gripped him tight with trembling fingers. This was the stuff of her dreams, and she wasn’t even a dreamer, but oh,
God
, this couldn’t be real because real had never been anything like this.

This was magic, his mouth, his breath heating her, his lips kissing and nipping, his teeth biting just hard enough to make her wince and yelp. And then he bit lower, nudging beneath the fabric of her panties to her clit and the swollen lips of her sex.

“Mmm, yummy,” he said before he slid his tongue to separate her folds, licking and stroking until he reached her pussy’s entrance, pushing into her, then pulling out and letting her panties snap back into place.

Then he kissed her. He stood straight, leaned in, and covered her mouth with his, showing her what she tasted like—the saltiness,
the strange hint of grapefruit and musky olives, the scent of marine air. But all of that disappeared then, because this was Casper and he was kissing her, his tongue sliding against hers, his lips pressing to hers, his teeth glancing off hers with an audible click.

She wanted to taste him, to know him and learn him, but she couldn’t think or focus. She tried so hard, but she found no purchase and could do nothing but let go and give in when he picked her up, when he turned her, when he walked them to the table where she’d shared dinner with Boone.

She couldn’t think about that now. Wouldn’t think about that now. Not when she was sitting where Boone’s plate had been, leaning back on her elbows, her heels tucked to her hips. Not with Casper’s hands moving to his belt buckle and zipper. Not with his jeans coming down, his briefs following, his cock jutting proudly, the tip ripe and red and wet.

“Lift up,” he said, and she did, and he tugged off her panties before he stepped between her legs.

“What?” she asked when he stopped, a frown marring the hunger in his eyes.

“I don’t have a condom, but I test clean. If we need to put this off—”

She shook her head. “I’m clean. I won’t get pregnant. And if we put this off, we may never be here again.”

He grunted, planting one hand at her hip, wrapping the other around his shaft and guiding himself into place. “Why’s that?”

“Because once we’re done, I swear I’m going to find my lost mind.”

His laugh cut through her, a scythe of wicked humor and grit. “Who says we’re ever going to be done?”

Then he pushed into her, and she closed her eyes, gasped because it had been so long, and it had never
ever
been like this.
He stretched her and hit bottom, and still he wasn’t done filling her with the part of him she’d wanted for so long to know. She eased into having him, relaxing, adjusting, a smile tugging at her lips.

“What’s the smile for?” he asked, his voice cracking just enough and in a way that let her know he was more worried than he was teasing.

She never thought of doing anything but setting him at ease, and let her smile reach her eyes as she opened them. “I like you.”

“Good to know.” He pulled out, pushed in. They both gasped, and Casper said, “You know we need to get this one over with.”

Nodding, she bit down on her lower lip. The sooner they were out of the kitchen, the better, though she was well aware that wasn’t what he meant. They’d danced around this first time too long for it to be anything but a prelude.

“You ready?”

She nodded again. “Could you try not to break the table?”

“Oh, baby. The table’s not what I’m worried about breaking.”

“Hurry. Just hurry. I can’t wait anymore.”

“Music to my ears,” he said, leaning over her as she wrapped her legs around him and hooked her heels in the small of his back.

Then they fucked. There was no other word for the act between them. They did not make love, even though Faith’s heart swelled and ached from the emotional surge. They rutted like animals, coming together in the most primitive of matings Faith had ever known.

And she loved it. She
loved
it. Every pounding slide of Casper’s cock threatened to take her apart. She felt him in her pussy and she felt him in her head. Her toes tingled and her breasts beneath her camisole ached to feel his teeth and his hands.

But it wasn’t enough. None of it. She wanted, needed more.
To see all of him naked. To know more than just his fingers and tongue and cock. To look down and see where their bodies joined, her pink flesh stretched to fit his that was similarly colored, and soft in as many ways as it was rigid.

And his abs. His ass. His thighs. She wanted to touch all of him, explore his muscles and his skin and the spots where he found the most pleasure. She wanted him to learn her. She wanted things that wouldn’t fit on an old kitchen table, in a ranch house where her brother was sleeping upstairs.

He was right. They had to get this one over with. And so she balanced precariously on one elbow, and hooked her other around his neck, bringing his head down to hers, his lips to hers, his tongue. He groaned into her mouth as he pushed deeper into her body, his weight pinning her, his movements rocking the table on old wooden legs Faith could only pray were built to last.

With each stroke of his cock over her clit, her nipples hardened, and her blood rushed hot beneath the surface of her skin. The hair on her arms stood on end. The hair at her nape snapped, electricity popping in the air around them.

Gasping, Casper pulled away, needing to breathe as he stared into her eyes, his gaze fiery and focused and full of lust and insanity. She’d thought nothing could be as crazy as her need for him. What she must look like, half naked and full of Casper Jayne without so much as a locked door to save her.

And she didn’t even care. If that wasn’t the height of madness she didn’t know what was. She was soaring, so close to coming undone, and the things she read in Casper’s eyes pushed her to the brink. He knew it. He saw it. And he shoved hard against her, grinding and taking her over the edge.

She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping his cock, milking him, coming all over him, holding onto the table’s edges until she thought her fingers might break. Her release coursed
through her and she shook and shivered and knew nothing but the thrill of surrender.

Above her, Casper grunted, rutting and grinding, shoving himself so hard against her, the table jumped. Her eyes popped open, and she watched his face, the deep grooves digging in around his closed eyes, the veins in his neck popped in relief. His mouth tight and grim as he strained, reached. His pulse ticking in his temple, a pounding drumbeat synced to his thrusts.

He slammed into her once more, then stopped, his upper body rising like a cobra from the place where his body was rooted to hers, and he came, juddering, quaking, his hands moving to her shoulders to hold her and anchor himself deep as he spilled his seed.

He finished quickly but with a force that alarmed her as she watched his orgasm play out in waves on his face, intense and vivid, muscles working around his eyes and his mouth, his nostrils flaring. Her heart pattered, her spine tingled, her sex ached and burned wanting him gone, wanting him always.

Finally, he looked at her, his eyes slowly opening, a smile sliding across his mouth and twinkling in his gaze. “Look at you. Faith Mitchell. All messed up.”

“Get off me,” she said, her words clawing the scant space between them.

But Casper had other ideas, settling his palms at her sides. “You are one tasty woman.”

“Tasty? What does that even mean?” She moved her heels to his hipbones and pushed. “Get off.”

“I could do that. Or I could just pick you up like this and carry you up the stairs.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Then, since he wasn’t moving, she did, scuttling like a crab across the table, missing the feel of his cock inside her the moment he was gone. She rolled from the
tabletop to her feet, found her panties across the room, felt Casper’s semen tickling the tops of her thighs. Reaching for a paper towel, she glanced at him and said, “Don’t just stand there.”

Because his standing there was bothering her. His jeans and briefs were bunched around his knees, her juices and his glistening on his cock that was still half hard. It hung between his thighs, thick and tempting as it bobbed above his balls. His hands were at his hips, his white T-shirt bunched up to reveal well-defined abs bisected by a trail of dark hair.

He nodded toward the towel she held in her hand. “Bring me one of those. Wet. Warm water, not cold.”

What was she now, his concubine? But she did as he asked because it gave her a reason to look away and time to find some semblance of sanity. And she thought she had. Her breathing had calmed. Her heart had stopped trying to beat its way out of her chest.

When she reached him, however, she realized she wasn’t herself at all. He didn’t move more than an eyebrow, then told her, “Clean me up.”

She waited—one heartbeat, a second, a third—weighing her pleasure against his, her acquiescence against his demand, then wrapped the damp towel around the tip of his cock to swipe away his cum. He shifted in her hand, lifting, hardening, going stiff and full as she held him, as she cleaned him, stroked him, her own hold tighter, feeling him throb.

He grinned, a slow, lazy move that grooved his dimples deep into his cheeks and brought a twinkle to his eyes. That had her heart pounding again, her blood rushing to pool low in her center the way his had done. She stilled her hand. He was clean enough for leaving. And that’s what they both had to do. Now.

Or so she’d decided. Casper had other plans, hitching up his
pants with one hand while he cupped the other at the base of her skull and brought her head to his, their cheeks together, his mouth lingering at the edge of hers. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she whispered, the wash of her breath damp between them.

“The towel. The table. The countertop.”

She pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. “You’re thanking me for the kitchen?”

“I’m thanking you for making sure I’ll smile every time I walk into this room from now on.”

“S
HH
,” F
AITH SHUSHED
from where she lay naked beneath him.

Casper’s only response was to smile against her skin because he wasn’t the one making the noise. He swirled his tongue in and around her navel, his hands against her inner thighs spreading her open. She wiggled and squirmed and her hands at her sides clenched his sheets in need of changing.

She groaned as he nipped at the cute pooch of her tummy, making his way lower and breathing deeply of her scent that was salty and warm. Whatever door she’d opened in the kitchen, he didn’t want her to change her mind and lock it down tight. He’d waited half his life to get her here. He did not want her up and running.

“We can’t do this,” she was saying. “Not here. Risking it downstairs was bad enough, but now Boone’s right down the hall.”