Stealing Rose

  Her legs hook around my hips and she anchors herself to me, her pussy nestled close to my cock. She’s wet and slippery and I thrust against her once. Twice. Slip just the head of my cock in, and the heat radiating from within her body feels incredible.

  “Oh, God,” she chokes out as I slip a little deeper inside, the breath leaving my lungs in one harsh gust when I feel the velvety hot clasp of her inner walls tighten around my cock. No barriers, just flesh on flesh, and I realize my mistake as I thrust deep, filling her completely.

  “Fuck, Ro, you feel so damn good.” I remain unmoving inside her body, my cock pulsing, her pussy twitching. “I forgot the condom.”

  She goes still, her hands resting on my chest and giving me a little shove. It changes the angle, sending me deeper, and then she’s clutching my shoulders, moaning as she arches against me, and it feels like my cock is touching her womb, I’m so deep. “I’m … clean,” she gasps.

  Bracing my hands on either side of her head, I stare down at her, watching as she writhes against me, working herself on my cock, her eyes closed, her head thrown back. “I’m clean too,” I whisper. “But are you … good? Like on the pill or … whatever?” Could I sound more like an asshole teen making sure the girl I’m fucking in the backseat of my car isn’t going to get knocked up?

  Rose opens her eyes, a little smile curving her lips. “I’m fine. My period should be here any day now.”

  Uh-huh. Isn’t that what they all say? Not that I’ve ever had personal experience with this sort of situation, but …

  “I’ll pull out,” I reassure her, loving the way she feels, my entire body tense and ready to fuck. All I want to do is take her. Ram myself inside of her body again and again and fill her with my come, which has got to be some weird, primal, instinctual thing. I don’t know. I’ve never had these sorts of thoughts.

  Then again, I’ve never felt like this for any woman until Rose.

  Finally unable to stand it any longer, I begin to move, slowly working my cock in and out of her body. She moans with my every thrust and I bend over her, kissing and sucking her nipples, gathering her ass in my hands so I can hold her closer and control my movements within her.

  Her legs are tight around my hips, her arms wrapped around my neck. Our bodies are so close, chest to chest, heart to heart, and I’m panting in her ear, whispering how good she feels, how much I want to come, how much I want her to come.

  She nods furiously, her hair tickling my cheeks, strands catching in the stubble that lines my jaw. “So close,” she whispers as she turns her face into my neck. I can feel her lips brand me, hot and damp, as she speaks. “Harder, Caden. Please.”

  Losing all control at her urging, I fuck her fiercely, my movements ragged as I grip her ass tight and pound inside of her. My mind is empty and all I can focus on is my need to come, my need to make Rose come. Like an animal intent on reaching my satisfaction no matter what it takes. Primitive. Possessive.

  Lost.

  Rose falls first, a long, shuddery moan sounding from deep within her as I feel her pussy clench and ripple along the length of my cock. I grit my teeth, fighting against the need to spurt deep inside her body, and then I’m pulling out of her in a rush, my hand going around the base of my cock as I come all over her quivering stomach.

  “Jesus,” I utter, my breathing so hard my chest aches as I stare down at her. I’m on my knees, my cock in my hand, my semen all over her stomach and her pussy. Did I come in her? Fuck, I hope not. And I hope she means it when she says there’s no possibility she could get … pregnant.

  Wiping a hand across my mouth, I shake my head, unable to speak.

  What the fuck did I just do?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rose

  I can’t move. I can hardly breathe. My God, I don’t think I can even see.

  I believe Caden just fucked me to death.

  My bones are like jelly, my heart racing triple time, and I trail my shaky fingers through the semen that’s splattered across my belly, smearing it across my skin. It’s warm and sticky and thank God he pulled out in time or else I’d be worried.

  It was so amazing, though, having Caden inside of me without a condom on. Risky and stupid, but he felt so good. Too good.

  I want to do it again.

  I can feel him above me, hear him breathe, hear him swallow hard. He sounds just as overwhelmed as I feel and when I finally crack my eyes open I see him reach out, his fingers light on my stomach as he, too, touches the come he left there. Marking me like some sort of primitive beast, it had been all sorts of hot.

  “I, uh, got a little carried away there for a moment,” he admits, his gaze lifting to meet mine. I see a hint of doubt in the depths of his gaze and I want to reassure him. I want to tell him I liked it. Loved it, even.

  He can’t take the entire blame for this. I was just as out of control. Out of my freaking mind with pleasure. “It’s okay,” I reassure him, reaching for his hand so I can clasp our fingers together.

  He smiles at me, flicking his head so his sweat-dampened hair isn’t hanging in his eyes. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

  I shake my head, embarrassed for some reason. What just happened between us … I can’t explain it. I feel closer to him. I feel as if he’s become a part of me.

  Does he feel the same?

  “Don’t deny it.” He collapses beside me, gathering me in his arms so he can hold me close, my back to his front. His cock is still hard, poking against my butt, and I’m amazed.

  And aroused. Still. But I don’t know if my body can take another round. Yet.

  “You’re gorgeous, you know. All limp and sated after I made you come.” His voice is full of pride. He likes that he just did this to me. That he wrecked me for any other man. No one has ever made me feel like Caden does.

  Never.

  “I made you come too,” I point out, smiling when he squeezes me close and drops a kiss to my shoulder.

  “Yeah, you did,” he murmurs against my temple. “It felt fucking amazing, being inside you bare.”

  It so did. I need to get on the pill stat if we’re going to continue this … relationship. Whatever the heck we’re doing. I’ve never had sex without a condom before and when he first slipped inside me, hot and slick and with no thin piece of rubber between us, I almost came on the spot.

  His hands move up so he’s touching my breasts, rubbing them, circling my nipples, and I sigh as my body melts into his, savoring his touch, the little sparks of heat that light my skin as he continues to toy with my nipples. “I love the way you touch me,” I tell him in a heated whisper.

  He doesn’t falter, just keeps caressing my skin, driving me crazy, ramping up the warmth within me when I came only moments ago. “I love touching you,” he murmurs. “I could fuck you all night. For days. You’re all I want, Ro. All I need.”

  I want to believe him, but I don’t know if I can. He’s opened up some but not enough. Our sexual connection is so incredibly strong, but what about our emotional connection? Would he want a real relationship with me? Or are we both caught up in the fantasy of being in another country, not dealing with work or friends or family—for the most part, considering I’m dealing with the life-changing choice of quitting the family business—all alone, just the two of us in this hotel suite?

  His cock is rock hard, pressing between my butt cheeks, and I squirm against him, making him groan. “Tease.” He grips my hips, brushing the head of his cock along my crack, and I roll away from him, onto my stomach. He follows me, tugging on my hips so I lift myself onto my knees, and another moan escapes him as he runs his hand across my backside, his fingertips playing with my pussy. I’m so wet, and it would be so easy for him to slide back inside me. I want it. I want him. I feel almost crazed with it. “You want my cock?” he asks.

  “Please,” I say into the pillow, my voice muffled. My legs are shaking, my entire body is trembling, and I brace myself on my elbows, wagging my ass at him to spur
him on to do something about it and quick.

  “Ah, baby. You drive me fucking insane with this sexy body of yours.” He pulls me back, his hands firm on my hips as he guides me onto his cock. My body takes him, slowly but surely, until my ass is brushing his stomach and I can feel his heavy balls press against my pussy.

  He is so thick and so long. When he pulls out, it seems to take forever, a delicious drag of flesh against flesh, and I shudder and cry out, a surprised gasp flying from my lips when he rams his cock back inside of me, hard and so fast I swear I see stars.

  “I gotta be careful,” Caden says, his voice tense, his fingers gripping my hips so hard I know he’s going to leave bruises again.

  But I don’t care. I want the bruises. I love the reminder that he’s taken my body so perfectly.

  “Why?” I ask on another gasp. I swivel my hips, working his cock, and he smacks my ass playfully, commanding me to stop.

  I don’t want to stop. I want to come again. I need to come again. When we’re naked together, it’s as if I have no control. All I want are the endless orgasms he’s so good at delivering. I crave his touch, his words, the comfort he gives me.

  More than anything, I crave the way he looks at me. His eyes are full of untethered emotion, his touch gentle and full of reverence. He cares, more than he’ll ever admit, and I love that. I need it.

  “I’m gonna blow and I don’t want to do it inside you,” he says, sounding tortured. He holds my hips still, preventing me from moving, and I release a little moan of frustration. “Sshh. Let me make this good for you.”

  Anticipation races through my veins when he touches me, his fingers tickling my skin, drawing closer to my pussy. He touches me there, tracing my folds where they rest against his cock, a fleeting tap against my throbbing clit. He’s trying to drive me out of my mind and I’m about to yell at him when he draws his finger up, up, until he’s touching a forbidden spot, circling around and around my little hole.

  “Ever had a man take you here?” he asks, his voice deep and dark and rumbling along my nerve endings, making me weak with desire.

  I shake my head, unable to speak. I’m holding my breath, biting my lip when he presses, slowly breaching the barrier with just the tip of his finger. A moan escapes me at being filled in both holes and I hang my head, again waiting for the shame or embarrassment to come.

  But it doesn’t. All I can focus on is the way he moves in me, the way Caden is making me feel. His finger slips deeper as he starts to move and I give myself over to the pleasure. My head is spinning, my body feels like it’s spiraling out of control, and I whimper when he pulls out of me, replacing his cock with his mouth as he licks and sucks my pussy, fucking my ass with his finger, sending me right over the edge with a scream.

  I slump onto the mattress as he moves away from me, trying to catch my breath, gather my thoughts. With much effort on my part, I finally roll over to find him sitting on his knees, his cock sticking straight up, the tip covered with creamy pre-come. He looks as if he’s in pain and I go to him, wrapping my fingers around the base so I can draw him into my mouth.

  “Fuck yeah,” he practically growls, his hand pushing away my hair before he slides his fingers into it and tugs so hard, I feel the stinging pain in my scalp. “Harder, baby. I want to come in your mouth.”

  I do as he commands, giving him all of me, opening my eyes so I can stare at his face. He’s seemingly transfixed, his eyes flaring with unmistakable lust as I pull his cock from my mouth and lick the head, down his length, mapping every distended vein with my tongue. His entire face flinches, a shuddering sound coming from his lips, and when I draw him back into my mouth he explodes all over my tongue, the salty musk taste of his semen filling my mouth.

  Withdrawing from him, I let some of it spill out of my mouth and onto the head of his cock, getting him nice and sloppy, and I swear that brings on another spurt of semen. He’s groaning and shouting and saying the crudest things ever and all I want to do is make this good for him.

  So good he’ll never, ever want to leave me.

  “You are a filthy, dirty girl,” he says after long, quiet moments of our panting breaths as we both try to calm our racing hearts. He collapses onto the mattress, his head buffered by a pile of pillows. I crawl alongside him, lying on my side so I can press my body close, throwing my leg over both of his.

  “You like it,” I whisper as I race my fingers down his stomach, feeling the muscles shiver beneath my touch.

  “The question is do you like it. What I did to you.”

  I gaze up at him to find him studying me, worry making his brow furrow, that wrinkly spot above the bridge of his nose a sure sign he’s apprehensive. “I liked it.”

  “Enough to take it … further? Sometime?”

  I skim my fingers lower, into his pubic hair, the head of his softening cock brushing against me. “Yes,” I whisper as I turn my face into his shoulder. I’m a little embarrassed, but not enough that I don’t want to talk about this. “As long as you’re gentle. You’re … kinda big.”

  He laughs a little as he slips his arm around my shoulders. “Did I hurt you?”

  I shake my head. “Not really. It stung a little.”

  “I’ll be careful. I’ll always be careful with you. You know this, right, Ro?”

  I don’t know. Do I?

  “Caden?”

  “Yeah?”

  I clear my throat, scared over how I’m about to change the subject big-time. “You mentioned your father earlier.”

  He tenses up; I can feel his muscles go completely still. “Yeah?” he says again.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He’s quiet for a moment before he says, almost reluctantly, “Go ahead.”

  “How … how did he die?” I trace patterns on Caden’s skin, running my finger through the little patch of hair in the center of his chest. I feel like I have every right to ask him that question. I have a dead parent too. One nobody talks about and I want to share in our past grief together. Not get weepy or anything, but I want … I want reassurance that it’s okay to talk about our parents. It’s fine to speak of the dead, you know? I’m tired of hiding my feelings.

  Caden lets out a harsh breath and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “It isn’t pleasant.”

  “Death never is,” I reassure him.

  “He killed himself.” He stiffens against me for the tiniest moment but I continue touching him, my heart full of sadness but also … relief. We have something in common, however terrible it may be. “He worked for an investment firm in Manhattan and was a real hotshot. Worked up the ranks quick, made all sorts of money.”

  “And then?” I urge because I know there’s an and then moment. Something awful must have happened for the man to take his own life.

  “And then he got too greedy. Started using his clients’ money for personal expenses, figuring he could gain it all back with his investments. But that didn’t work. He got caught in a vicious cycle and once it was discovered … he was ruined. He lost his job. There were threats of lawsuits and criminal prosecution. My mom said she would stand by him no matter what, that we could get through this together because we were a family, but he … went to work to finish cleaning out his office and then threw open the window and jumped out.”

  “Oh, God.” I sit up to look at him, our gazes meeting, his full of pain and irritation and … yes. Anger. “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah. I was mad for a long time. I still am. He hurt my mom almost irrevocably. After he died, she wouldn’t date, had no interest in men at all. She still won’t consider letting anyone into her life for fear they’ll leave her,” he explains, sounding sad. He reaches out and grabs my hand, playing with my fingers.

  That explains so much. So, so much. I’m having a total aha moment here and it’s at his expense, making him have to tell this painful story. But it needs to be said. This sort of reveal will only bring us closer and I want that so badly.

  “How old were you when i
t happened?” I squeeze his hand in mine.

  “Thirteen.”

  My heart hurts for him. And for me, too.

  Swallowing hard, I decide to share my own secret. “My mom committed suicide, too.”

  His eyes widen the slightest bit. “She did?”

  I nod, dropping my head so I don’t have to look at him. You’d think it would be easy to share this, but the topic of my mother is hardly ever discussed. I find it difficult to talk about her and I didn’t even know her. “I was practically a baby. She overdosed on prescription pills. My father woke up one morning and she was lying next to him, cold and still. She took the pills during the night and he had no idea.”

  “Ah, Ro.” He pulls my hand so I’m falling on top of him and he gathers me close, my head tucked under his and my cheek pressed against his shoulder, our arms around each other. “That’s terrible.”

  “I know.” I bite my lip, ready to reveal the secret that has been weighing on me since I read her diaries right before Cannes. “What’s worse is I think I know why she did it. Why she killed herself.”

  “What do you think?” He runs his fingers up and down my arm lightly, making me shiver.

  “I read her diaries. Our father gave us each a box of her personal items and I found her last diary inside.” I take a deep breath. “She met someone else. Another man. She was having … an affair and when the man broke up with her, she was completely devastated. She wanted to leave my father. She’d been making plans.”

  Caden says nothing, just keeps stroking my arm, holding me close. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent, not sure if I should say anything else or let it go. It feels so good to confess what I found. I’ve kept this as my personal burden to bear and it’s been so hard. No one else knows about my mother’s indiscretions. At least, I don’t think anyone knows.

  My father might know, but I’m sure he didn’t want to shatter my mother’s image. And I appreciate that, but I also feel like it’s such a lie. We’re a family full of lies and secrets.