Caged (Mastered 4)

I gave his legs a cursory glance, then let my gaze travel back up his body, savoring every inch. But my visual appreciation didn’t get any farther than his lower half because I realized his right arm was still moving in front of his body, his well-defined triceps straining and bunching with the movement.

Then Colin’s head fell back. Those dark curls covered the nape of his neck as he expelled a loud, “Fuck.”

I gasped because I figured out what he was doing.

He confirmed my suspicions when he spun to face me and I saw his fist wrapped around his cock. “Caitlin? Why the bloody hell are you in my room?”

“I don’t know.” My feet carried me forward even when I knew I should’ve stayed put. “I’m sorry I barged in and interrupted—”

“Me jerkin’ the gherkin?” he said in that deep, menacing tone.

“It’s not a gherkin, from where I’m standing,” I replied without thinking.

Then his entire countenance changed. “Like what ya see, do you, lass?”

I couldn’t respond. The lust I’d felt had somehow seized my vocal cords and I could only nod.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Can ya get your eyes off my junk?”

I continued to move forward.

Colin breathed heavily, although he’d stopped sliding his hand up and down his rigid shaft.

Once I was close enough to fill my lungs with his scent and feel the heat from his naked body, I stopped. My hands definitely had a mind of their own and landed on Colin’s thickly furred chest.

With his free hand, he tipped my head back and got nose to nose with me. “Do ya mean to make me mad with wanting you?”

“I’m not the one who said no, Colin.”

“Because I’m trying to protect you!”

“From what? From you?” My eyes couldn’t stay in one place long. I drank in every feature of his face. The stormy gray eyes were brimming with lust. His lips had lost the pinched look and were parted from his rapid breaths. Color rode high on his cheekbones. His dark hair, nearly black, was slicked back and wet from his shower.

“Aye, from me, dammit.” Then his mouth crashed down on mine and he finished the kiss he’d backed away from earlier. A growing hunger consumed him, as it did me when he gave in to it.

Colin kissed me with the finesse of a man who understood kissing was an art, a journey of itself, not just a prelude to full-body contact and sliding part A into slot B.

That kiss destroyed me piece by piece even as it built me up brick by brick. I became stronger the longer his mouth remained on mine. I knew this was right between us. Damn the age difference. Damn the supposed impropriety between teacher and student. Damn everything but this passion that was the only truth between us.

Colin’s lips—soft and warm and damp—glided across my cheek to my ear. He tried to hide his labored breathing from me, and for that reason it burrowed into the very heart of me.

“Do you know how bloody hard it was to push you away, Caitlin?” He nuzzled the hollow beneath my ear. “When I really wanted to push you onto the bed and do every dirty thing I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks?”

“I’m not busy right now,” I breathed.

A small chuckle broke free and vibrated against my skin. “So why do I feel dirtier that you caught me rubbing one out than I did when thinking about your hand on my cock?”

“You think too much,” I murmured back. “You can have the reality instead of a fantasy.” I arched as he placed sucking kisses from beneath my earlobe down the column of my neck. “You know you want to push me to my knees. So do it.”

I waited, expecting he’d say no and act as if he knew what I needed rather than what I wanted. So I braced myself for his rejection.

I should’ve braced myself for his strong grip on my shoulders as he forced me to kneel.

Molly’s cheeks were warm. Her eyes burned hot. Her voice had turned scratchy, and she paused to take a drink. Then she felt Deacon’s eyes on her. “What?”

“Keep goin’. That’s fucking hot.”

She swigged her water again before she read on.

A sense of power rolled through me as my lips met the wet tip of his cock. I barely had time to ready myself before his big hands cradled my head and he guided his cock into my mouth, which was already wet with anticipation.

The musky taste of him was as potent as the man himself. I flattened my palms on his upper thighs and squeezed the muscles as I pulled him deeper into my mouth. I’d make this blow job the best he’d ever had or choke trying. His girth stretched my lips, and the weight of his thick shaft rested heavily on my tongue. My throat felt overly stuffed and my gag reflex kicked in, but I pushed past that and began to work him.