Then the real game began as Cannon hefted me upward and spun me around until I was flat on my back on the couch. He stood, scanning the room. “Supplies,” he said and snapped his fingers. “Get naked.”
Every nerve in my body stood at attention at the command in his tone.
“You too,” I snapped back, but there was zero bite in my tone. I hurried to strip myself bare as Cannon grabbed a thick pillow from the loveseat across the room. He tossed the pillow at me so quick I barely had enough time to catch it. I giggled as I clutched it to my chest, watching him drop his clothes in a pile around him.
I breathed out, some part of me relieved at the sight of him. Would this ever end? This constant hunger? This primal need to be with him, be as close to him as humanly possible? I sure as hell hoped not.
“You sure?” I asked as Cannon met me on the couch, his lips an inch from mine.
“You don’t have to ask every time,” he said, a real grin on his lips.
“Yes, I do,” I said. “This is my silly need to try new things. You don’t have to satisfy them.”
He cocked a brow at me. “Princess,” he said, flicking his tongue over my lips. “That’s exactly what I want to do.” He settled on his knees between my legs, motioning his head at me. “Pop those hips up.”
Again, that primal command, that deep tenor of demand, set my blood on fire, and damn me if I didn’t immediately obey. He tucked the pillow underneath my hips, my spine still flat against the couch, my center now on a raised platform to do with as he pleased. The submission in this simple position made my toes curl.
Cannon sensed the shift in me, spotted the tremble and chills raised along my skin, and he chased them with his fingertips. Everywhere he touched was like the sweetest burn, and I couldn’t help but arch into each caress. Then he brought his mouth into the mix, and I became downright incoherent. He palmed my breast, sucking my peaked nipple into his mouth, nipping enough to hurt in the most delicious of ways. I lifted my hips, desperate for him, but he took his time. Kissed his way across my breasts, over the planes of my stomach, and lower.
“Cannon!” I screamed as he wasted no time in sliding his tongue between my heat.
“Mmm,” he moaned against me, the vibrations making my body clench around him. “You’re already so wet for me,” he said against my heat, his lips grazing every spot with a too light touch. “How are you this perfect?” he growled, his tongue lapping and darting in and out of me, feasting on me until I could do nothing but writhe against him. “How do you taste so fucking sweet?” He continued his feasting, and my body tightened like a coiled spring of pure flame.
“Cannon, please,” I begged, arching against him, my fingers gripping his hair like a lifeline. “God, Cannon.”
“Always in such a hurry,” he teased, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he raised up enough to look at me with a smirk. He pumped those fingers inside me, teasing that inner edge until I saw stars. “This what you want?” He curled those fingers.
I moaned but shook my head. “You,” I panted. “I want you.”
“You have me.” He lowered his face, pumping faster as he sucked that bundle of nerves into his mouth.
“Cannon!” I screamed as my orgasm hit me hard and fast, my body curling against him as the waves crashed over me again and again.
He kissed my sensitive flesh before rising above me. “Now, you’re ready,” he said, his hands gripping the backs of my knees until he’d situated one around his hip. He slid his other hand down my leg until it reached my ankle, and he placed my bare foot against his chest. And without blinking, without catching my breath, the man plunged himself inside me, the elevated angle so deep I moaned and threw my head back.
“Goddamn,” Cannon hissed. “You’re so fucking tight, perfect,” he growled as he controlled the pace with one hand hooked under my knee at his hip, and the other pressed against my knee near his chest.
I couldn’t reach him. I was powerless to his will, and I loved it. The thrill of it, the submission, the trust. I’d never felt so connected to another person in my entire life. I gripped the edge of the couch with one hand, digging my fingers in as he thrust inside me, over and over again.
“Touch yourself,” he growled, and my eyes flared at the command, at the way his eyes churned with desire as he motioned to my free hand. He slowed his pace, taking his thrusts long and deep only to pull out all the way and do it all over again.