Getting Rough by C. L. Parker
Casey stood when he’d finished and I gawked. And probably drooled. Holy fucking shit, but the man was even more glorious naked than I’d imagined my Jayson to be in my wildest fantasies. And yeah, there’d been a few of those during my special alone time since I’d come to the island. Casey’s chest was thick and firm with a small patch of hair between the pecs, his gorgeous arms were veiny and bulging, and that trail down his abdomen was worthy of a paragraphed description. But there was no time to write now because even farther below, there was a granite trophy in need of attention. Casey’s erection hung long and thick from his body, and I was feeling mighty attentive.
He didn’t take the time to check me out as thoroughly as I had him. I was almost grateful he hadn’t. I wasn’t built like the women I wrote about. My breasts were only about a B-cup, and my figure didn’t look anything like an hourglass. I was average – not skinny, not fat – with the sort of thickness that came along from sitting behind my laptop day in and day out while snacking on junk food.
Taking me by the arm, Casey walked me over to the bed and turned my shoulders so that I faced it. All business in order to get down to the business. I liked it. And then he nudged me forward until I was bent over the mattress. I liked that, too.
“Are you ready?”
More than. “Yes.”
Without any preparation – though, truthfully, I was already more than wet for him – Casey pushed inside me, burying his cock balls deep. My back arched as I whispered, “Oh, my God. Yes…”
“No talking,” he said as he leaned forward, the heat of his body nearly scorching the exposed skin of my back. “And you might want to hold on to something.”
I felt the swift retreat of his cock, which nearly made me shout a protest despite his order of silence, but then I was again gifted with every agonizing inch of the next drive forward. His pace quickened and the power of his thrusts became more demanding. He was right; I needed to hold on to something, so I found purchase on the sheets right next to his hands. The way he covered me with his body, those perfect teeth buried in the skin of my shoulder… it was carnal, intense. Perfect.
Pinning me down by the neck, I was trapped and unable to move. I couldn’t see Casey’s ruggedly handsome face, which meant he also couldn’t see mine. And that was just as he needed it to be. However, I could definitely hear the grunting at my ear. Closing my eyes, I let the sound of him, the feel of him, the smell of him whisk me away to that place inside my mind where I’d recorded every nuance of my Jayson, and the two became one.
Much like the kiss, there was a purpose to his fast and steady strokes. No deviation from the angle from which he worked, no slow and steady grind. He wasn’t working to bring me pleasure. He was seeking his own, though I couldn’t help but wonder if his release would bring him anything other than pain.
I had no grand delusions about what all this meant. His cock wasn’t inside me because he’d fallen madly in love with the woman who’d come from out of nowhere when he was at the most desperate point of his life. It wasn’t even there because I was voluptuous and seductive and he simply couldn’t resist me. And none of this was about my sassy mouth turning him on and making him want to fuck some manners into me.
Casey was not Jayson Bass, and I was not Janell Kain. But I wanted him all the same.
Yanked from my imaginary world and thrust back into reality, I was confused when the glorious cock that had been occupying my very needy vagina suddenly disappeared. And even more so when Casey snatched me up like I didn’t weigh a thing, only to find myself in a straddled position with that beast of a man between my thighs.
Apparently needing no help from me, Casey guided my hips until he was completely sheathed again. I groaned, relishing the stretch and feel once more. But this wasn’t about me, a fact proven when he began to move me up and down on his cock, fast and hard. So I did the only thing I could do; I held on to his shoulders and let him have his way, regardless of how contradictory the position may have been.
As a woman and a romance author, I’d always considered cowgirl style to be a position of dominance over a man, my chance to be in control. That simply was not true with Casey. Like a horse without reins, he controlled the ride. He was wild and free, the lean muscles of his body flexing with each movement, the huff of his labored breaths every bit as powerful as the momentum behind them. Casey was a thoroughbred free of fences, free of restraint. Finally.
I was going to write about this. I was going to immortalize him and this moment in the pages of one of my books. Because it was worthy of immortalization. Inside my writer’s brain, I memorized every minute detail – the flex of his strong shoulders, the grip of his capable hands, the feel of the rough calluses from his palms against my cheeks, the exquisite pull of my anus with each lift up, and the sound of skin meeting skin with each push down. But most of all, I’d remember and hope to capture every shade of the raw emotion behind eyes as blue as a marlin on a hook making its last-ditch attempt to free itself from its captor’s line. Because no matter how free his movements seemed to be, those eyes told a different story.
I was locked on his gaze, unable to turn away for fear I’d miss something intrinsically important. What Casey saw as he looked back at me wasn’t me at all. In the place of dull brown hair, he saw robust locks of shimmering auburn. In the place of amber skin, he saw flawless ivory. And in the place of boring brown eyes, he saw orbs the color of springtime leaves. What he saw, who he saw, was Cassidy.
The grip on my ass softened, but the cock inside me was still very rigid. When Casey also stopped moving me up and down, I wondered if he’d changed his mind and no longer wanted to follow through on the task he’d started. So I stopped moving as well, waiting for him to tell me to get off him. He didn’t.
Instead, he pulled my hips forward, encouraging me to take over, to move as I wanted… to ride him. My heart raced in my chest, thrilled by the opportunity to have this man the way I’d wanted him from the moment of our very first greeting. Casey was tall with broad shoulders, sturdy and strong, a mountain of a man that made we want to get out my climbing gear and go for his summit. But I’d somehow managed to control my impulses, intimidated by his mere presence as he towered over me. Now he was between my thighs, all that raw power mine for the taking. So I seized the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and accepted his offering.
Leaning into him, I positioned my hips for an easier glide, rolling forward and back with a pace that was much more sensual than the pounding he’d been serving up. I didn’t want him to feel angry. I wanted him to feel needed, desired, worshipped. Holding him close, I nuzzled his neck. When I heard his slow exhale as he craned his head to the side to give me better access, I took full advantage. But I knew I needed to be careful not to spook him. So I took my time, gently sucking at his skin and taking nips, though I was sure not to mark him. He was not mine. I was only borrowing him.
When my lips captured his earlobe and my teeth scraped it, his breath stuttered. I took great power from being able to affect this man in such a way. I’d found his button and my research was complete. But I wasn’t quite done with him. There had been one other thing I’d wanted that I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to do. It was a risk, but one well worth taking. So I suckled his earlobe one more time to hopefully guide him to a more receptive state, and then I kissed along his chiseled jawline to his mouth.
Casey hadn’t kissed me since the one and only kiss we’d shared before all of this began. I wasn’t even sure if it would be okay to go there again, if it was too intimate for him to handle. But kissing Casey wasn’t the plan. I simply wanted to sink my teeth into the meaty flesh of that damn bottom lip of his. So with the forward roll of my hips, I took his cock deep inside me, inhaling sharply and throwing caution to the wind as I covered his mouth with mine.
And oh, God, yes! Casey’s large hands splayed across my back and he held me to him, his mouth receptive and his tongue seeking the comfort of my own. His taste was sweet and I grew light-he
Casey growled. Not in warning but in approval. I gave him my best seductive smile, the kind all the sassy heroines in my books gave their male leads to drive them bat-shit crazy with lust, and then I bit him again. This time I didn’t pull away. I deepened the kiss, taking control of it and giving him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe I was sweet, but innocent I was not. If this was the only time I’d ever have him in this way, I was going to make damn sure it was as memorable for him as it would be for me.
Holding on to his shoulders, I used my body the way a woman’s body was meant to be used in order to please a man. The arch of my back put me in the perfect position to ride his thick length while still teasing his lips with the brush of my nipple. I wanted him to take it, and he did.
Casey captured the pert bud between his teeth, gently scraping it with a delicious sort of pain. Though I was careful not to say a word – he still hadn’t given me permission to – I whimpered at the sensational tease. More. I wanted more. Reading my cue, he took the wanton peak fully into his mouth, suckling and licking, while looking up at me. There was a shift behind those eyes, and I got a glimpse of the man who lived to please his woman.
I watched as he moved from one breast to the other, kneading them both with his strong and roughened hands. Each draw backward and push forward of my undulation teased my G-spot and sent me higher and higher, like an elevator climbing to the top floor of a tall building. Anticipation to reach the final destination dueled with the impatience of the long ride up, but I knew once those doors opened, my orgasm would come flooding in.
Second floor… third floor… fourth floor…
Quickening my grind, my focus shifted to the sensation of my swollen clit against that sinful patch of hair on Casey’s groin. It tickled yet stimulated the highly sensitive button to my pleasure, so I bore down, pressing closer and closer. So enraptured was I – by the expression in Casey’s eyes, his mouth on my breasts, every minute detail of his engorged cock deep inside me – that I hadn’t even noticed I’d been biting down on my lip until it started to throb in warning that I was about to break the skin.
Fifth floor… sixth floor… seventh heaven.
Destination reached. No sooner had the doors opened than the elevator went crashing down, the sudden shift sending wave after wave of euphoria through every nerve ending in my body. My chest felt light and airy, almost cold in the absence of the blood that had vacated it to converge upon my center only to explode and then spread through my veins like a wildfire demanding the scorch and burn. I swooned and swayed, basking in the aftermath of a rush that left my head dizzy with bliss.
I’d only barely registered the stillness of my movements when Casey took over, pushing and pulling at my hips to prolong the event. The walls of my pussy gripped his impossibly harder erection, squeezing and tugging, begging him to join me in a place that should be shared by lovers.
And I almost believed we were exactly that. Until I opened my eyes and came face-to-face with reality once more.
The shift I’d seen only moments before had suddenly changed, like he’d snapped back to some reality I couldn’t fathom. Gone was gentle Casey, desperate Casey having resumed his place, and I found our positions changed yet again.
Lying flat on my back with my arms pinned to the bed above my head, I felt exhilarated. Yes, I wanted this.
“Wider,” was his order, and I was his to command, though he didn’t give me the chance to comply. Instead, he hooked an arm under one knee and spread me to his liking. Angling his hips, that very thick cock entered me again with a delicious stretch and fill. Sweet Jesus, but I wished I had the power to rewind time so I could feel it again.
Holy shit, but his glorious cock was abundant and… and glorious. It was also unyielding in its selfish endeavor. Casey pounded into me hard, each punishing thrust shoving my body forward on the mattress with only a quick reprieve before being jostled again.
Although he was rough, I craved the next retreat and advancing drive. But as they had been at the start, these thrusts were not for my benefit. They were for his. I was merely a willing participant. He could use me for his purpose. I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him, just wanted to keep him inside me, just wanted to have that one fleeting connection with him. His pleasure was my own.
Casey’s grunts became more anxious, his hips more insistent, his rhythm direct and hurried. And then finally, his cock was free of my pussy and lying thick in the crook of my thigh and pelvis. I felt it throb with each stuttered release of his erupting orgasm and relished the carnal sensation of his teeth at my neck while hot semen coated my skin.
Closing my eyes, I held him to me because I knew I’d never feel him like this again. I wished I could say that for that one moment in time he was mine. But he wasn’t. He would never be mine because he would forever be hers. What a stupid, stupid girl Cassidy Whalen was.
Breaking free of my hold, Casey rolled off me to rest at my side. The chill of the room was unwelcomed against my flushed skin and I was aware of my nakedness for the first time. Chancing a glance at Casey, I found him with an arm arched over his head, his eyes shut, and his chest heaving with breaths he was trying to get under control. I wanted to lay my head over his heart to hear its loud pounding. I wanted to snuggle into the crook of his arm and throw my leg over his, peppering his sweaty skin in thanks. But I wouldn’t because I couldn’t. He was not my boyfriend and we were not lovers. We just were.
Casey’s eyes popped open and he turned to look at me. No doubt he’d felt my stare. I turned away, not quite sure what to say in the awkward silence that followed or if I should say anything at all. I had my answer when he jumped up and grabbed his pants, pulling them up in a hurry and not even bothering with the button. His socks and boots were next as he sat on the edge of the bed. He didn’t look at me as he went about his task, didn’t utter a word. When he finished, he stood and grabbed his shirt, holding it in his hand with his back, toned and fanned like a cobra’s hood, to me.
“Sorry,” he said, and then he made for the exit like he couldn’t get out of my room fast enough.
Once I heard the door click into place, I chanced my own words. “I’m not.”
CHAPTER 15
Shaw
I’d barely slept a wink all night. Not because of the storm but because I’d been contemplating the meaning of life. Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration, though not by much. I had nearly lost my life the day before, after all. Shit like that tended to make you take stock of the things you had and didn’t have. Not the materialistic stuff I’d coveted for most of my life, but all the other more meaningful things those self-help gurus wrote about. Things like family, happiness, self-actualization, core values… and time – what I had left of it and how I was going to use it. I’d thought those things were absolute bullshit before. Not now. Now, instead of a warehouse full of shiny toys, all I saw was a prideful waste of space. Needless to say, I wasn’t very proud of who I’d become.
Despite all my efforts to be nothing like my parents, my selfishness had made me exactly like them. My father’s greed and my mother’s addictive personality were both nestled inside a bouncing baby boy who wasn’t a bundle of joy, but rather a giant pile of regret fueled by a lifetime of self-indulgence. If I’d died in that ocean, there’d be no legacy, nothing of Shaw Matthews left behind.
I’d never wanted that before, wouldn’t have given two shits about it. But now I was obsessing over it. What the hell had changed? Damned if everything in my noggin wasn’t topsy-turvy and in complete disarray.
To add to the chaos, I’d come inside Cassidy. And that just wasn’t
Sleeping alone would just plain suck now.
Cassidy stirred in her sleep, snuggling closer though her head was already on my chest, her legs entwined with mine, her beautiful breasts pressed against my side, and her arm draped around my waist. Fuck, was I smiling? Yeah, I was.
Turning toward her, I pressed a kiss to her forehead while stroking her hair, loving the way she settled in with a sigh of contentment as if my attention had been what she’d been seeking. Whether it was or wasn’t, it didn’t matter. She had it. She had my full attention. And like the creep I apparently was, I sniffed her hair because her scent was simply amazing and did some shit to me that I couldn’t explain.