Ballad (Rockstar #5) (15 page)

I can’t help but laugh. This woman. She has made me laugh more in the last eight months than I have in my entire life.

“I’ll be your dessert. Let’s enjoy a quiet meal together.”

“Like we do at home,” she adds.

I nod. “Yes.”

She sighs and takes a seat at the table. “I miss our breakfasts together. Our dinners. Our movies and popcorn in bed.”

“I do too, Fee,” I tell her, bringing over the chicken dish I had prepared for us. We each have a plate covered with a warmer, and I remove hers. She inhales deeply.

“Oh, God. That smells so good I’m drooling. Takeout and sandwiches gets old. And, yeah, Misty may cook, but one good meal a day doesn’t cut it. I’ve had to up my exercise time so I don’t start jiggling,” she tells me as she pinches her ass. What a fine ass it is.

“Fee. You’re beautiful. You will always be beautiful to me.”

“Jiggly or not?”

“Yes. Now, let’s eat so we can get to that dessert.”

“That was so good,” Fee tells me, patting her belly. It really was amazing. I’m going to have to get the name of that chef and talk to Gio. Someone with that much talent should be recognized.

I push the plate to the side and I reach for my wine when she leans up. I raise a brow and she gives me a devilish grin. I’m not sure how it worked out, but Bad Intentions by Nikyee Heaton comes on and Fee’s grin grows.

She puts her first knee on the table, then the next. She doesn’t do anything but sit back on her heels on top of the table. She reaches down and lifts her shirt over her head.

Fuck. She’s going to test my restraint. I crook my finger at her and she smiles. She crawls once more, but barely closing any distance between us before she kicks her shoes off.

“Fee,” I say sternly.

“Cage.”

“Do you know what this means?” I ask, crooking my finger again.

“Yes.”

“Then get your sweet ass over here.”

“What if I don’t want to just yet?” she asks.

“Then when you’re ready to come, what if I don’t want you to just yet? What if I withhold your orgasm, building you up, taking you to the edge, but not letting you fall over? Then doing it again and again.”

“Not letting me come isn’t very nice,” she tells me.

“Not listening to me when I command you to do something isn’t very nice either. You know the rules, my Fee.” And she does. She learned them quickly. I never could have anticipated Fee enjoying being dominated in bed. Never in a thousand years. But she does. And she submits to me, giving me everything she is as I do the same in return. I give her my heart, my soul, my love, and pleasure like she’s never known. When she told me that, it did great things for my pride, I won’t lie. I am a man after all.

She crawls across the table, slowly, seductively, her breasts plumped up in her bra, barely restrained from the sexy piece of lavender lace. My hands are itching to touch her, to take her up, up, up until she explodes and then do it again and again. But she disobeyed so she’ll have to wait for that.

When she’s in front of me, she sits back on her heels, her hands resting on her thighs. There were two things we both agreed not to do that true dominant and submissives do routinely. One is have her look down when she submits to me and the other is to call me Master or Sir. I don’t like that. She’s not subservient to me. She’s my mate. My wife. My equal. Bringing her pleasure brings me equal pleasure.

“Can I touch you?” she asks.

“No, you may not. You defied me,” I tell her.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Yet you did. Now, what are we going to do about that?” I ask.

She doesn’t speak, knowing I didn’t expect her to answer.

“Come here, Fee,” I order again. This time she does so without hesitation. I stand and lift her off the table, standing her in front of me. She doesn’t touch me.

“Good girl. Now, take off my tie for me,” I tell her as I walk over and sit down on the sofa.

She nods once and does as I ask. I have her take off each piece of my clothing—including my shoes—until I’m sitting in front of her, my cock hard and aching to be inside her, yet restrained by my boxers.

“These now,” I tell her quietly.

She licks her lips as she reaches for me and I nearly groan aloud. She’s so fucking beautiful, so sexy. When my boxers are off, I direct her to her knees. She drops without hesitation.

“Can I touch you?” she asks, her eyes focused on my cock. I wrap my hand around it and start stroking it.

“No.”

She whimpers.

“You can watch me stroke the cock that should be buried inside your pussy right now. I’d be fucking you slowly, with deep strokes,” I tell her, doing with my hand that very thing. Precum drips from the head and I use it as lube to add that bit of slipperiness I need. I grunt and she cries out, pressing her thighs together.

“Are you wet for me, Fee?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to touch yourself? Slide your fingers into that hot little pussy and fuck yourself until you come?” I ask.

She moans. “Yes.”

“Then you should have listened,” I tell her and she gasps. “I don’t like to deny you, my Fee. I want to bring you pleasure, to make you mine, to feel you tight and wet around me, squeezing my cock even when you don’t mean to.”

She watches me as I reach down to cup my balls with one hand while I stroke my cock faster.

“Do you like to watch me?”

She nods.

“The words, Fee.”

“Yes, I like to watch you.”

She’s squeezing her thighs even tighter together and I imagine just how wet she is. Enough of this.

I pull her to her feet, then toward me so she’s straddling my lap, and I devour her mouth. I want her with an intensity that never ceases to amaze me. Every time it’s like this. I just can’t get enough of her taste, her touch, her moans, her pleasure.

Her hands reach up to touch my face. I love when she does this. She holds me to her when we kiss. I’m not sure if she does it because she’s afraid I’m going to stop and she doesn’t want that or if she just wants to make me feel cherished. She gives me the latter every second of every day and the first is never going to happen.

“Stand up.”

She does as I ask.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, Fee. I want to see and feel your softness.”

She begins with her pants, unsnapping them, then sliding them down her legs. She steps out of them, moving to the side, and reaches around to unhook her bra. When her breasts fall free, I want to groan—to weep with appreciation of her beauty. But when she shimmies out of her panties, all I can think of is how much I want to taste her.

“Come,” I beckon, then lie back on the sofa, urging her to crawl up my body so she can ride my tongue.

“Holy smokes,” she whispers and I grin. “Not going to start off slow at all are we?”

“We don’t have much time and I want to spend every second of what time we
do
have loving you properly.”

She shudders out a breath when her thighs straddle my head. I pull her down onto my mouth and lick. I lick the folds of her glistening pussy, pausing to suck on them. When she moans in pleasure, I want to give her more. Always more. My Fee deserves it all.

My tongue dips into her center, her wetness coating my tongue and I swallow it like a starved man.

“Oh, God. Mmm,” she moans, and I suck her clit, flicking my tongue across it, causing her body to jerk and shake. I slip a finger inside her, pushing in and out while I leisurely lick her clit. Slowly but with just the right amount of pressure is how she likes it. I add a second finger and she throws her head back, her hair tickling across my thighs.

When her hips begin to move, I know she’s close. I curl my fingers inside of her, seeking that magical spot that brings her to her knees, and when I find it, she gasps, moans, and presses harder against my tongue seeking her release.

I look up, watching the pleasure overtake her as she comes undone above me, crying out as her orgasm rushes through her. I love the taste and feel of my wife, but nothing gives me greater pride than knowing I can please her to the limits I do.

Her thighs quake against my ears. I reach up behind her, my hands grasping her shoulders, and I sit up.

“Hold on,” I say against her pussy and I stand up. She squeaks but relaxes immediately into me. Her torso supported by my arms, her legs bent over my shoulders, her feet hooked at the ankles behind my head. I stride toward the table, the one we just had lunch on and when I reach it, I clear the table with a swipe of my arm.

Sera gasps as plates and glasses shatter against the floor. “That was so hot,” she tells me and I chuckle.

“This might be a little cold,” I warn, then lay her onto the table so she’s spread out before me.

“Holy smokes, Cage,” she whispers, and I press my mouth against her pussy and start over again.

Holy smokes. My husband has a very talented mouth and tongue, and those hands, those fingers. I moan as he brings me to yet another orgasm. This is number three. The man is relentless in his quest to bring me pleasure—not that I’m complaining.

He looks up at me and I know he’s to his limit. He wants me. He needs me, to be inside me, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather have him.

So easily he lifts me from the table and I hold him close as he carries me toward the bed. I can’t help myself. I press kisses along his jaw, his cheek, and down to his neck. When I bite the spot where his shoulder and neck meet he growls. My husband is seriously fucking hot.

I’m placed gently onto the bed, but I know it’s not going to be sweet lovemaking. Not the first time. No. The first time is going to be rough and frantic because we can never get enough of one another. Never.

“On your knees, Fee,” he orders, and a shiver of excitement runs through me. I love it when I’m right—especially when it comes to my husband fucking me.

I’m barely on all fours when his hands grip my hips tightly and he’s pulling my ass back against him. He grinds his cock against my ass.

“Do you want my cock, Fee?” he asks.

Duh. “Yes, please.”

“I’m not going to be gentle right now, Fee. Listening to you moan as you came on my tongue has me on edge,” he admits.

“Cage, babe, take me however you want me.”

He groans. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me, Fee. Giving me permission to do anything makes me want to push the limits.”

His fingers dip between my legs where I’m still very, very wet and ready for him.

“Still so wet for me,” he growls. Then he’s positioning the head of his cock to my opening, and without warning he thrusts inside. He never goes too deep the first thrust. No, he usually gets there by…three. I moan as he fills me completely.

He’s going slow, stretching me inside so thoroughly it’s maddening. I push back against him and moan when he thrusts deeper.

“You want me to fuck you hard?”

“Yes, yes…” I whisper when his grip on my hips becomes bruising and he’s pumping into me so hard I have to lower to my elbows or I’d fall over.

“No, Fee,” he growls. Then he reaches up and grabs my hair, wrapping it in his fist, giving it a tug, forcing me to raise up. That bite of pain gives me a thrill that seems sadistic. I can’t even be ashamed of my fetishes. I won’t. Cage and I are the same and his is the only opinion that matters to me.