Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

“Rule number five specifically states—”

She scoffed. “Rule number five says no sex. It certainly doesn’t say anything about kissing you. Are you saying we need to negotiate our verbal contract?”

“It should be covered under rule five,” I argued.

Her eyebrows popped high. “What? Why? It’s not like I gave you a handjob or oral—”

“Oh my God, stop talking,” I begged, spinning around so I could get the hell away from her. The imagery in my head was sinful, and I couldn’t help but wonder if her fingers would manage to wrap all the way around my cock, or if she’d come up just a little short. I parked my ass at the edge of her dad’s desk and gripped the heavy wood of the top.

“For being one of the NHL’s baddest boys, you sure are a prude.” She folded her arms under her breasts, drawing my eyes to her impressive cleavage and the single strand of pearls that nestled at her collarbone.

“Prude?” I snapped.

“What else would you call all this fuss over a little kiss?” She walked closer.

“I’d call it looking out for your best interest.”

She arched an eyebrow in challenge but kept moving toward me.

“Persephone, if you had any idea of the things that go through my mind regarding that mouth, that body, you wouldn’t just casually kiss me. You’d run the other fucking direction,” I warned.

“Oh, really?” She stopped right next to me, her thigh inches from brushing mine. “You don’t scare me, Cannon.”

“I should.” How many times did I have to warn her? Did I have to spell it out for her?

“Tell me why I can’t kiss you.” Her gaze darted to my lips, and I muttered a curse.

“Why? Because it’s not just a kiss. Hell, I wouldn’t even call what happened in there a kiss. It was an invitation to things that you don’t want and aren’t ready for.” My grip tightened on the wood as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

“You don’t know what I want,” she accused softly. “Tell me why I can’t kiss you,” she repeated.

Guess she really did need me to scare her off. Being platonic and careful around her had given her some misguided sense that I was one of the good guys. Fine. That was an easy enough mistake to remedy.

“Why can’t you kiss me? Because I don’t want a kiss. Not from you.”

Her face fell. Good.

“I want way more than just your lips on mine, Persephone. I want your body splayed out naked beneath me, bared for feasting, begging for my mouth and hands. I want your mouth open for my tongue, and then I want to see those pretty pink lips wrapped around my cock.”

She gasped, her lips parting, and her eyes widening slightly. Excellent. She was starting to understand.

“I don’t want you to give me some little peck of approval in front of your friends so we can play out a lie. I don’t want your feigned interest and fake, polite sighs of appreciation. I won’t lie about need, and I won’t let you, either. Not when I want you screaming my name with your legs wrapped around my hips as I drive into you, so fucking lost to your own desire that you don’t care who the hell hears you or what your friends think because all you need is one. More. Thrust. To get you there.” I stared at her lips, letting everything I’d said show in my eyes, letting the leash slip just enough to scare her off.

“Cannon,” she whispered.

We locked eyes, and the temperature in the room rose by at least five degrees. God, I wanted her in every way I’d just detailed and so much more. I’d wanted her from the moment she’d fallen into my arms almost two years ago. She was everything right and good and pure in a world that had only shown me unimaginable cruelty.

“Cannon,” she whispered again, moving that inch so our thighs touched through layers of clothing. She may as well have branded me.

“Persephone.” I shook my head slowly, warning her not to do what her eyes already told me she was planning.

She leaned forward, giving me every chance to back away. I should have. I needed to. I didn’t. Instead, I watched her lips part and her eyes close a second before she kissed me. Her lips met mine in a gentle recreation of the kiss she’d given me in the ballroom. This time she lingered, her lips incredibly soft against mine. I meant to hold back, to teach her with my lack of reciprocation.

Instead, I kissed her back, gently sucking on her lower lip.

She cupped my face and leaned in for more. Fuck me, I could fall into this woman and never resurface for air. The thought jarred me, and I grasped her wrists lightly and pulled them from my cheeks as I broke the kiss.