Devoted to Wicked
Page 9
Finally, he fished a condom from his pants and rolled it down his length with one hand, opening her to the swollen crest he fitted against her entrance with the other. Karis held her breath, lifted her hips, aching with the wait to feel him deep. No one had ever given her pleasure like Cage Bryant. No man had left his mark on her heart the way this one had. Sure, she’d had silly fairy-tale dreams of meeting Mr. Wonderful…but that had been a fantasy borne of the broken promises of a father to his little girl, of her mother’s endless string of terrible boyfriends.
Cage was real.
“Ready?”
“Hurry…” she moaned.
“Yeah. I’m going to lose my fucking mind without you, too. Hold on to me.”
That was all the warning he gave her before he braced himself, spread her wider, and filled her with one rough thrust.
He delved deep. Her head fell back. Her nails dug in. Her breath rushed out in a moan. Already, he was everything she remembered and more.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned loud and low. “You feel so damn good, cupcake. Jesus…”
“Amazing.” She couldn’t quite catch her breath. She definitely couldn’t stop wriggling under him. “I need more, Cage.”
He breathed harshly against her skin. “I’ll always need more from you.”
Karis had no time to process his confession before he plunged into her again and again, establishing a hard, slow rhythm that scraped every nerve ending and held her in thrall. Every time he shoved inside her, he wrung a gasp, a whimper, or a kiss from her.
“Faster!”
“Not until I make you come,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Once you’re there…”
Couldn’t he feel her tightening around him, clamping down on him? Her folds swelled. The need ratcheted up so hard and fast Karis found herself wrapping her arms and legs around him, pressing her lips across his bulging shoulder when she wasn’t panting in his ear.
God, this need felt as if she hadn’t had sex in four years instead of four weeks. She rocked under him, lifting and rolling with him, welcoming him deeper than ever. He gave more. Need gripped her. She was going under again. Holy hell, no man had ever driven her to two monumental orgasms in under ten minutes. A few had even spent hours trying to get one from her and left empty-handed. But Cage touched her in every way, even her heart. It swelled and beat and filled as he did the same to her pussy.
As she sat on the precipice of orgasmic bliss, Karis sank her fingers into his shoulders and squeezed hard.
He read her signals. “Oh, cupcake… Yeah. Give it to me.”
Then he pistoned into her faster. The ache grew to something that nearly engulfed her, gnawed at the last of her composure, and now threatened to swallow her whole. Her body pulsed and jolted as she cried his name, giving him every bit of her bliss.
And her heart.
Yes, she’d feared this man would steal her heart on New Year’s Eve, but now it was official. She loved him. Actually loved him. She’d been infatuated with guys enough to know the difference. She’d seen her mother “fall” enough to know when it wasn’t real.
Her heart told her this was love.
As if he felt it too, he groaned as he emptied inside her with short, sharp thrusts and buried his head in the crook of her neck. When he came up for air, he looked right into her eyes. “I love you.”
She smiled at him. “I was…um, just thinking the same about you.”
His grin overtook his whole face. “Were you now? You sure you don’t need round two in order to know for sure?”
Karis loved the way he played in bed. She loved the way she felt cherished when she was with him. Heck, she loved everything about him.
She slapped on an answering smile. “You know, I just might…”
* * *
Can a man die of happiness? That question circled Cage’s brain as he lay beside Karis. She’d tangled her arms and legs up with his, resting her head on his arm. Her lashes swept dark half-moons over her cheeks. Absently, he brushed his fingers through her silky hair as she slept.
The two days of sex, sun, and talk they’d shared had been amazing. Idyllic. Exactly what he’d needed to be sure Karis was his future. They might be opposites, but they had a surprising amount in common. They wanted the same things out of life—marriage, family, happiness. She was still a little skittish, and he understood with her background. But he also wasn’t giving up. Cage intended to leave here knowing Karis Weston was his.
What he didn’t like was how quiet Miguel had gotten. Maybe the asswipe would just go away since Cage had made it clear the waiter couldn’t fly under his radar anymore. But his gut told him Miguel wasn’t a quitter. He was even more convinced after Trees called back to say that several past female hotel guests had registered complaints about the wannabe Romeo’s forward behavior. And what do you know? Several had reported their passports stolen, too. No one had fired the little shit because the manager of the property, Raul Nabaté, was his uncle. And no one had caught Miguel red-handed.
Cage intended to change that.
With any luck, Karis’s new passport would come in today so they could get out of here, go home, and start their future. He was still plotting the best attack plan—besides beating the devil out of the prick—when his cupcake stirred beside him.
“Morning.” Karis stretched with a smile. “What should we do today? Yoga class starts at ten. Interested?”
Cage kissed her forehead. He already knew from inquiring that Miguel was due to report to work at the same time. That would be his best opportunity to resolve Karis’s Latin-lover problem. If his hunch wasn’t right, Cage would have another man-to-pipsqueak chat with Miguel after he filed a formal complaint with hotel management and hoped they did something this time. But he’d rather not leave anything to chance.
“Nope, but you go ahead. I’ll check on your passport while you’re downward dogging. If it’s ready, I’ll see about getting us some flights home. If not, we’ll grab some beach time.”
“Then a sultry siesta?” she suggested with a wink.
“Is there any other kind?”
Karis laughed, and he held her close as they dipped in for a quick shower…that turned into a deep, slow orgasm. Then they grabbed some breakfast from the buffet, and Cage started feeling her out on the subject of a deeper commitment. He was getting green-light vibes when she suddenly looked at her watch.
Cage was real.
“Ready?”
“Hurry…” she moaned.
“Yeah. I’m going to lose my fucking mind without you, too. Hold on to me.”
That was all the warning he gave her before he braced himself, spread her wider, and filled her with one rough thrust.
He delved deep. Her head fell back. Her nails dug in. Her breath rushed out in a moan. Already, he was everything she remembered and more.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned loud and low. “You feel so damn good, cupcake. Jesus…”
“Amazing.” She couldn’t quite catch her breath. She definitely couldn’t stop wriggling under him. “I need more, Cage.”
He breathed harshly against her skin. “I’ll always need more from you.”
Karis had no time to process his confession before he plunged into her again and again, establishing a hard, slow rhythm that scraped every nerve ending and held her in thrall. Every time he shoved inside her, he wrung a gasp, a whimper, or a kiss from her.
“Faster!”
“Not until I make you come,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Once you’re there…”
Couldn’t he feel her tightening around him, clamping down on him? Her folds swelled. The need ratcheted up so hard and fast Karis found herself wrapping her arms and legs around him, pressing her lips across his bulging shoulder when she wasn’t panting in his ear.
God, this need felt as if she hadn’t had sex in four years instead of four weeks. She rocked under him, lifting and rolling with him, welcoming him deeper than ever. He gave more. Need gripped her. She was going under again. Holy hell, no man had ever driven her to two monumental orgasms in under ten minutes. A few had even spent hours trying to get one from her and left empty-handed. But Cage touched her in every way, even her heart. It swelled and beat and filled as he did the same to her pussy.
As she sat on the precipice of orgasmic bliss, Karis sank her fingers into his shoulders and squeezed hard.
He read her signals. “Oh, cupcake… Yeah. Give it to me.”
Then he pistoned into her faster. The ache grew to something that nearly engulfed her, gnawed at the last of her composure, and now threatened to swallow her whole. Her body pulsed and jolted as she cried his name, giving him every bit of her bliss.
And her heart.
Yes, she’d feared this man would steal her heart on New Year’s Eve, but now it was official. She loved him. Actually loved him. She’d been infatuated with guys enough to know the difference. She’d seen her mother “fall” enough to know when it wasn’t real.
Her heart told her this was love.
As if he felt it too, he groaned as he emptied inside her with short, sharp thrusts and buried his head in the crook of her neck. When he came up for air, he looked right into her eyes. “I love you.”
She smiled at him. “I was…um, just thinking the same about you.”
His grin overtook his whole face. “Were you now? You sure you don’t need round two in order to know for sure?”
Karis loved the way he played in bed. She loved the way she felt cherished when she was with him. Heck, she loved everything about him.
She slapped on an answering smile. “You know, I just might…”
* * *
Can a man die of happiness? That question circled Cage’s brain as he lay beside Karis. She’d tangled her arms and legs up with his, resting her head on his arm. Her lashes swept dark half-moons over her cheeks. Absently, he brushed his fingers through her silky hair as she slept.
The two days of sex, sun, and talk they’d shared had been amazing. Idyllic. Exactly what he’d needed to be sure Karis was his future. They might be opposites, but they had a surprising amount in common. They wanted the same things out of life—marriage, family, happiness. She was still a little skittish, and he understood with her background. But he also wasn’t giving up. Cage intended to leave here knowing Karis Weston was his.
What he didn’t like was how quiet Miguel had gotten. Maybe the asswipe would just go away since Cage had made it clear the waiter couldn’t fly under his radar anymore. But his gut told him Miguel wasn’t a quitter. He was even more convinced after Trees called back to say that several past female hotel guests had registered complaints about the wannabe Romeo’s forward behavior. And what do you know? Several had reported their passports stolen, too. No one had fired the little shit because the manager of the property, Raul Nabaté, was his uncle. And no one had caught Miguel red-handed.
Cage intended to change that.
With any luck, Karis’s new passport would come in today so they could get out of here, go home, and start their future. He was still plotting the best attack plan—besides beating the devil out of the prick—when his cupcake stirred beside him.
“Morning.” Karis stretched with a smile. “What should we do today? Yoga class starts at ten. Interested?”
Cage kissed her forehead. He already knew from inquiring that Miguel was due to report to work at the same time. That would be his best opportunity to resolve Karis’s Latin-lover problem. If his hunch wasn’t right, Cage would have another man-to-pipsqueak chat with Miguel after he filed a formal complaint with hotel management and hoped they did something this time. But he’d rather not leave anything to chance.
“Nope, but you go ahead. I’ll check on your passport while you’re downward dogging. If it’s ready, I’ll see about getting us some flights home. If not, we’ll grab some beach time.”
“Then a sultry siesta?” she suggested with a wink.
“Is there any other kind?”
Karis laughed, and he held her close as they dipped in for a quick shower…that turned into a deep, slow orgasm. Then they grabbed some breakfast from the buffet, and Cage started feeling her out on the subject of a deeper commitment. He was getting green-light vibes when she suddenly looked at her watch.
