He hits it again and again and again, until I’m sure I’m going to blow from that alone. The pressure builds and builds, growing more intense by the second, and right before I free-fall over the edge of oblivion, he removes his finger from my body. I shamelessly cry out, no longer caring how pathetic I sound. I can’t take this. I need more.
Caspian, without warning, stands up, and I fucking hate how much I miss the weight of him on my body immediately. He grabs me again by the neck, hauling me up with his fucking Hulk strength. My legs try to give out on me, but he wraps his free arm around my middle, hauling me into chest, before I have a chance to lose my balance. Hot, hungry lips find my neck, pressing down with savage need. He sucks on the skin, a shiver racking through me, my eyes rolling back.
Walking us over to the tree up ahead, he spins me around and shoves me up against it, at the same time he rips my shirt over my head, tossing it off to the side. The bark digs into my back, scratching in a way that’s almost uncomfortable.
“Don’t fucking move,” he orders me in a throaty, domineering voice that makes my dick twitch.
A big part of me wants to be a brat and disobey, but another—larger—part of me is frozen in place, desperately eager to see what he’s going to do. His steel-gray eyes are nearly pitch black with blown pupils, and his hair is wrecked, cheeks flushed, pants severely tented with that beautiful, hard cock of his. It’s blatantly obvious I’m affecting him as much as he is me.
I fucking love that.
Caspian turns, and the minute his back is to me, I step loudly like I’m going to run. He spins around, eyes wild, narrowing as his hand flies up, shoving me harder into the tree.
“Don’t even fucking think about it, princess.”
Holy fuck, he’s hot.
He meanders over to the backpack that was thrown on the ground when he tackled me. He doesn’t bother even looking over his shoulder to make sure I listened to him. No, that cocky fucking asshole just knows I will. That should infuriate me.
Should.
Watching, full of curiosity because I have no fucking clue where he’s going with this, my eyes widen, and my stomach drops when I see the item he pulls out of the bag.
A long piece of thick, red rope.
Caspian’s lips turn up into a wicked grin when he sees the shock I’m sure is written all over my face. I swallow hard, a lump now lodged in my throat, as my heart races inside my chest. He stalks over to me, undoing the knot the rope’s in, his gaze lifting above my head. I look up, seeing what he’s staring at.
“No,” I say, my voice cracking on the word. “No fucking way, Caspian.”
He chuckles, closing in on me. “Cute you think you have a say in the matter.”
My mouth’s dry, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “I’m serious,” I croak, as I try to sidestep him before he reaches me. But I’m too slow… or maybe he’s too fast, I’m not really sure, but he closes the distance, shoving me back into place as he uses his weight to hold me there.
With our slight height difference and the closeness of our bodies, my face is right by his neck. I don’t know what the fuck comes over me, but I reach out—with what little room I have to do so—and seal my lips to his throat, just to the right of his Adam’s apple, which I can feel dip against my cheek. I suck, I nip, I lick across the flesh as he grinds his erection into my lower stomach.
Reaching down, he wraps his fingers around my wrists, bringing them above my head. He holds both in one hand against the tree while he uses his other hand to toss the rope over the branch just above my head. In some form of absolute witchcraft, he’s able to tie my hands into a knot, so they’re hanging from the tree branch in a way that isn’t uncomfortable or painful.
When he’s done, Caspian takes my chin in his fingers, lifting until our lips are pressed together. He slips his tongue into my mouth, licking and tasting, as I practically melt into the wood behind me. Caspian kisses me like it’s his job. Like it’s his God-given right. He kisses me like he never wants to stop.
And I don’t want him to.
He kisses me like I mean something to him.
And I desperately want to believe that.
Continuing to kiss me breathless, Caspian shoves my shorts down my thighs until they pool around my ankles before dropping to his knees. The sight of him on his knees before me is one I want to catalog forever. It’s a sight to behold. A wet dream come to life. Similar to how he did when he had me pinned to the ground, he nose dives into my groin, inhaling so fucking loud.
I squirm under the weight of the sound, but he presses his palms to the tops of my thighs, holding me still as he drags his tongue from the base of my cock, all the way to the tip, swiping up the pre-cum pooling at the slit. Raging heat douses my blood, setting me on fire from the inside out, and when his plush, red lips close around the crown, engulfing it in his slick, wet heat, the sound that travels up my throat is inhuman at best.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” I chant as he takes more of me in his mouth, until I’m touching the back of his throat. He doesn’t even gag.
Fucking asshole.But he’s an asshole who sure as fuck knows what he’s doing. Caspian holds me in his throat, swallowing around my girth, and the tightness of him constricting has my balls drawing up close to my body in seconds.
Reflexively, I tug on the rope, trying to bring my hands down to thread through his hair. I want to come so bad, the sensation growing and spreading, my toes tingling as my legs tremble.
I need this.
I need him to make me come.
