Caspian (Carolina Reapers 8)

She lifted an eyebrow. “If last night is any indication, I’d say satisfied and a little sore…in a good way.”

I nearly groaned.

“Smart ass.” A corner of my mouth rose as I fought a smile. “I’m talking about emotions. I’m not about to be another guy who fucks over your expectations.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have any.” Her hands stroked my wrists. “Caspian, I’m not the naïve little girl who grew up next door anymore. I know you have a life, a career, and probably about a thousand women on your speed dial—”

“I wouldn’t say a thousand.” I didn’t let women stay around long enough to reach speed dial level. Fuck, did her skin have to be so soft? Her eyes so big and deep? Her lips so damned kissable?

“Fine, then a hundred.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m sure they’re all supermodel perfect—”

“Stop.” I brushed my lips over hers in a whisper of a kiss, just enough contact to ignite a fire and not nearly enough to satisfy it. “There’s only two women in my speed dial, and considering they’re my sister and my mother, I don’t think they belong in this conversation.”

Her lips parted slightly. “Oh.”

“Oh.” I dragged my thumb across her lower lip and hissed when she nipped it with her teeth. “That doesn’t change the fact that this shouldn’t happen, no matter how much I want it to.” Because I wasn’t the guy she was in love with. The thought dripped down my spine like acid. I didn’t want to be the guy she loved. That was way too complicated and…well, impossible.

“I’m not going to beg you.” She stepped back out of my hands, and I felt the loss to the bottom of my soul. “But I am going to say that I know you want me. I know it would be…good between us.”

“It would be fucking electric between us,” I countered. My hands flexed, but I kept my feet rooted to the hardwood floor. “I’m not worried about the sex. If it was just about that, I’d lift you to the counter, rip off your jeans, split your thighs and fuck you until neither of us could walk.”

She melted, sagging against the island. “Then, I say yes.”

“What. About. Tomorrow.”

Her gaze roved down my body, devouring me in a look so hungry I felt it like a physical caress. “Tomorrow I’ll know that I lived. I’ll know that I didn’t just settle for the first guy who ever showed any interest. I’ll know that once—just once—in my life, I did something for me, not because it was the appropriate thing to do, or because I met someone else’s expectation, but because I wanted it. I want one night with you, Caspian, and I understand if you don’t feel the same, but please don’t hide behind the guise of protecting me. I’m well aware of what I’m asking.”

“Fuck, Ryleigh.” I groaned, my pulse skyrocketing.

She kicked off her shoes, the converse skidding across the hardwood floor, quickly followed by her socks. Her shirt.

My gaze devoured her breasts, the globes rising high in the purple satin of her bra, lifted up like an offering. She was all rough and tumble tomboy in every facet until it came to her lingerie.

“Baby,” I growled as she unsnapped her jeans and peeled the denim down her legs, leaving her in nothing but soft skin and satin.

She swallowed but lifted her chin, rolling back her shoulders as our eyes collided. “This offer expires in exactly three, two—”

My mouth was on hers before she reached one.

One night. If that was all I had with her, then I’d make sure she knew exactly how good it could be between us. How good she deserved it to always be.

I grasped her ass with both hands and lifted her to the counter, then I sank one hand into her hair and kissed her the way I’d been fantasizing about all day—deep and hard. It was tongues and teeth and whispered sighs as our hands reached and stroked.

My shirt landed on the floor.

My shoes went somewhere.

Over and over I took her mouth, drawing out every nuance of pleasure as I changed the pace, driving the tempo with teasing licks, then blatant thrusts, only to soften our lips and begin again.

My entire world narrowed to this kiss. This moment. This woman.

Her ankles locked around my waist as her hands tangled in my hair, urging me on, holding me to her—as if there was anywhere else I wanted to be.

My cock strained against my zipper, pressing painfully against the fabric as her hips rolled against mine, seeking out the friction I was all-too-willing to give her.

“How many times do you want to come, Ryleigh? Twice? Three times?” I asked against her mouth, my hands cupping the perfection of her breasts.

“You think you can make me come three times tonight?” she asked, her head falling back as I kissed down her throat, my tongue lingering in the hollow just above her collarbone.