Cannon (Carolina Reapers Book 5)

“I have to say,” Logan began as he rubbed the back of his neck as we stood outside our favorite restaurant in downtown Charleston, “it’s not as weird seeing you two together as I initially thought it would be.”

“Thanks?” I glanced toward Persephone as she talked with Delaney and Annabelle a few feet away and waited for that sense of dread to fill me—that deep, empty ache that this was all headed toward disaster…but it never came. We’d been married almost two months, and instead of it becoming more and more obvious that we were absolutely wrong for each other, it somehow got easier. Which was a good thing, considering Mrs. VanDoren had set our wedding date for October twenty-first, dragging this little lie out a couple of months longer than planned.

At least she was feeling better. Doctor called it a miraculous surge of health, which Mr. VanDoren attributed to our wedding plans, though he still glared at me whenever the girls weren’t looking. Did the asshole really think a good glaring was the worst I’d been through?

“He’s right.” Connell shrugged. “You two seem to balance each other out.”

“Like an opposites attract kind of thing,” Logan added.

“Exactly! And the way she took all the olives off your salad?” Connell gave a giant, mocking sigh while he thumped his chest.

“Or the way you ordered her a second sweet tea before she’d finished her first?” Logan chimed in with an equally absurd expression.

My eye roll could not have been stronger.

“What are you two going on about?” Persephone asked, sliding her arm through mine. That same electric jolt I felt whenever she was near zinged up my spine at the contact, and I suddenly wished I’d chosen a long-sleeved shirt. Maybe I would have sweat to death in the August heat, but it would have protected me from the immediate, intense flashbacks to having my hands elsewhere on her bare skin.

I was losing my fucking mind a little more every day as I fought my need for this woman.

“Oh, just telling your husband how cute you guys are together.” Connell winked at my wife.

Good thing I liked him.

“And on that note, we’re leaving before I end up thrashing you two idiots.” I gave them a wave, and Persephone did the same as she said goodbye to the girls.

We walked down the block in relative peace and quiet. The best thing about living in Charleston was the relative anonymity we had. I’d been hounded by reporters and paparazzi back in Detroit, all of them waiting for me to inevitably lose my temper and fuck up royally.

“That was nice,” Persephone said as we turned the corner to where I’d parked the car. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me, too.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, shifting her to the inside of the sidewalk, farther from any traffic, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head simply because she smelled so damn good and felt so right tucked against me.

“You ready for preseason to start up?”

“I’m always ready. Plus, I hammered Connell’s ass at the pick-up game yesterday, so I know my speed is back.” I spotted my Hummer a few cars away and hit the unlock button. “The morning runs are helping.”

“Good.” She patted my stomach, and the muscles tensed under her touch. “I was a little worried there that you were putting on a few pounds.”

My jaw dropped, but she just winked, then laughed.

“I’ve heard about an excellent workout for that,” she assured me as we reached my car. “It happens to involve two people and minimal workout gear.” She turned to face me and lifted her eyebrows.

“Did you now?” Every fucking day she proposed that I teach her about sex…through experience, of course, and every day, I shook my head in refusal, wondering when I’d eventually break. The problem was, giving in to what we both so obviously wanted would only make it hurt all the more when this ended. Not to mention that I wasn’t gentle or careful enough to be any woman’s first—let alone Persephone’s.

A shadow moved over her shoulder, and my head snapped up as a man pushed himself off the wall and moved toward us.

Holy shit. The man stepped out under the street light, and every molecule in my body hardened in response. I stepped to the side and pulled Persephone behind me, putting myself between her and…him.

“What the fuck do you want?” I seethed, ignoring Persephone’s gasp of surprise behind me.

“Is that any way for you to talk to your dad?” he asked with a grin, his arms outstretched like he was Jesus Christ. Like the fucker came in peace when all he’d ever brought me was pain.

“It’s the only way to talk to you,” I ground out through clenched teeth. What the hell was he doing here in Charleston?

“Hi there. I’m guessing you must be Cannon’s wife?” He cocked his head to the side.

“You don’t speak to her. Ever.” I’d never put her in his path. Hell, I wasn’t even putting my back to him for the length of time it would take to get her into the car.

His grin fell. “Cannon. I was hoping we could talk.”

“So, you ambushed me outside my car?”

“It’s not like you take my calls.” He stopped a few feet away from me, and I noted the changes since I’d last seen him. He was still a handful of inches shorter than I was, but he’d put on some weight. His belly hung over his jeans and stretched his Red Wings T-shirt to capacity, and while he still wore his hair slicked back, the dark color no longer mirrored mine, but was streaked with silver.

“Nor will I ever. My agent, my publicist, my coach, and my team’s owner all know you’re not allowed to have my phone number.”

“See? And you wonder why I have to resort to stalking my own son.” Rage filled his eyes before he blinked it back. I knew that rage well. It was the same, all-consuming anger that put out cigarettes on my skin when I was too young to run and welts the same size as his belt when I was old enough to protect Lillian. It was the same rage that lived inside me—an insidious, infectious disease I could never completely cure.

“Is that how you found me?” I felt Persephone lean against my elbow, where I still had her locked against my back, no doubt peeking around my arm to get a look at the man who’d sired me.

“It’s not hard when the internet knows what car you drive. I just had to wait outside the Reaper Village gates long enough to spot you.”

Ice dripped down my spine.

“What the hell do you want? Because whatever it is, you may as well get back in your car and go. I’m not giving you shit.”

“Cannon.” His eyes softened, and his face fell. It was the same expression he’d used on Mom every time he’d apologized for beating her, swearing it would never happen again, that this time it would be different. “I’ve gotten myself into a little trouble.”

I snorted. “Of course you did. Why exactly should I care?”

“Because I need your help, son.”

“Don’t call me son, and the answer is no.” My empty hand clenched at the familiar term, but I kept the other splayed over Persephone’s back. She was the reason I would hold my shit together instead of crushing this piece of shit like he deserved.

“Please? Cannon, it’s not that much. It’s just a hundred for this loan shark—”

A scoff burst from my mouth. “A hundred grand? You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“Cannon.” His shoulders dropped dejectedly, and I felt Persephone soften behind me.

She was definitely peeking. I glanced her way. Yep, she was. Was she falling for his same line of bullshit that Mom had? Were his pity-inducing puppy eyes playing her?

“No. Walk away.” I bit out the words.

Anger flashed in his eyes, but he locked it down. Impressive. “It’s nothing to you! Just a drop in your massive bank account. But it’s the difference between life and death for me!”

The rage drained from my body, leaving me iced out and numb. My sister called it the killing calm. “Death? You want to talk about death? Then how about this. You’ve been dead to me for years. The day you killed my mother was the day I wrote you off.”

Persephone sucked in a breath, and I felt her hands clasp my sides. Even at my worst, the woman did her best to comfort me.

Dad transformed from the kicked puppy to the monster he hid just beneath the surface. His mouth twisted, his fists clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “I served my time for that! You think it’s easy with a vehicular manslaughter conviction on my record? I can’t get a good job, and I sure as hell don’t have an NHL contract. Now, I’m giving you one more chance to do the right thing and help me.”

“Or what? You’ll hit me? I’m not some scrawny little kid cowering in the corner of the kitchen anymore. I’ve got four inches and fifty pounds of muscle on you now, asshole.” Those very muscles were on alert, ready for whatever he’d try.

He tilted his head again, and his gaze dropped to my wife. Fuck, no.

“Pretty little wife you have there. I heard she’s rich as Midas, too. A real southern belle. You’d better be careful with her, Cannon. We Price men have tempers. Can’t help what’s in the blood, son, and she looks a hell of a lot more fragile than your mother was.” He slowly dragged his gaze back to mine. “I’d hate for something to happen to her because you let that temper get the best of you.”

My stomach lurched, threatening to send my dinner up.

“Walk the fuck away.”

He clucked his tongue at me and tucked his thumbs in his jeans, going close enough to his belt that my head immediately filled with the sounds of my own screaming when he’d last used it on me. “You’ll regret this. I swear to God, I’ll make you regret it.”

“I regret every moment I spend in your company.”

He shook his head slowly and turned around, then began walking up the block, away from us. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Price.”

“I can’t say likewise,” she muttered behind me.

As soon as he was out of sight, I loaded Persephone into the car, going so far as to buckle her seat belt for her. Nothing was getting to her. Nothing. Not even me.

“Cannon,” Persephone started as we pulled into the driveway, breaking the strained silence that had been our constant companion on the drive home.

“Don’t,” I snapped, pulling the car into the garage.

“I just—”

“No. Not with this. Not with him. You have no idea what that man is capable of or what he’s done. Do you know how many scars these tattoos cover up? How many burns and cuts I’ve masked with all this ink? Don’t you realize there’s a reason I don’t like people to touch me?”

Her mouth softened, but before she could speak, I climbed out of the car.

“Cannon!” She caught up to me in the kitchen. “How can I know any of that stuff when you don’t talk to me about it!”

“You knew he beat my mother. I told you that.” I threw my keys on the counter.

“In really vague terms, yes, but you never told me that he killed her.” She moved toward me, then thought better of it and stayed on the other side of the island. Good. It was dangerous to be close to me when I felt like this.

“She packed the car and told his drunk ass that she was leaving him. At least, that’s what we think happened in the house. Then he stumbled out to the driveway and got into the driver’s seat, shouting that she wasn’t taking his kids anywhere, and when she ran after us, he accidentally hit the gas instead of the brakes and hit her.” God, I could still feel the abrupt motion of the car, the sound of her screaming.

Persephone gasped, her hands flying over her mouth as her eyes flared in horror.

“Accident my ass, right? But Lillian and I didn’t know what happened inside, so we couldn’t prove that he did it out of anger, and it wasn’t some accident like his slimy lawyer professed. The man did fifteen years for murdering my mother. Fifteen. That’s it. So, I’ll be damned if I give him a dime of what I’ve earned. He can rot in hell for all I care.”

I pushed away from the counter and walked away, heading straight for our bedroom. No amount of shooting or skating in the basement was going to wash him away. I felt the dirt of it all on my skin, impossible to see, but oily to the touch.

My clothes hit the floor in a scattered path as I walked to the massive shower. I turned on the water, then shed everything else until I wore nothing but the art I’d chosen over the scars I’d had no say over.

When the water steamed, clouding the air of the stone-walled, doorless shower and the rest of the bathroom, I stepped under the heavy spray, letting it scald me to the point of pain, begging for my nerve endings to come alive and kill the numbness. When I’d burned enough of him away, I turned, letting the water singe my back.

At least he was in Charleston, which meant he wasn’t near Lillian. I’d have to call her later and warn her that he’d reappeared, but she never held the same appeal for him that I did—she didn’t have the money he always needed. She was safe.

Persephone wasn’t. Not while she was still married to me. He was right. That was the real kicker. She was in danger every moment she stayed near. She was so breakable. So fragile. What the fuck would happen if I snapped one day the way he did? My heart stopped at the thought of anything happening to her.

The bathroom door opened, and Persephone walked in. Her steps were slow but deliberate. She had that look on her face she wore when she needed something done and wasn’t going to leave the locker room until we’d all agreed to whatever her plan was.

I watched silently as she pulled her hair up into a knot on the top of her head, then pulled down the zipper of her dress that ran down her side. The blue silk fluttered to the floor, leaving her in a matching set of underwear that almost made me flip the handle and change the water to freezing. Every line of the woman was so fucking flawless that all I could do was stare as she reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, then shrugged out of it.

Her breasts were just as perfect as I remembered. I’d done my best to keep my damned hands off her for the past two weeks, to keep away the memory of the feel of her on my fingers and the taste of her on my tongue. For having the reputation of the very devil, I’d been a fucking saint when it came to my wife.

My wife. Even thinking that term had my cock rising. She was mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to adore. At least for now.

She tucked her thumbs into the sides of her thong, and my breath stilled. Our eyes locked, and she bit her lower lip with indecision. I sighed with relief when she left the little scrap of fabric in place. I was already on edge, fraying by the minute, and the last thing I needed was the delectable temptation of Persephone—

Wait. What the fuck was she doing?

She walked into the shower, keeping her eyes on mine, craning her neck when only inches separated our bodies. A single jet reached her skin, and she jolted, sucking in a breath with a slight yelp.

My hand flew to the knob on my right, and I dialed it back so the water wouldn’t burn her. Never her.

Her brow scrunched momentarily, and she swallowed, then she reached for the dark blue loofah she’d bought me when she moved in. It hung, untouched, next to the frequently used pink one that she favored.

I tensed as she put shower gel on the scratchy nylon then raised it to my chest. She paused before she made contact and looked up at me for permission.

That act alone made me give it to her with a curt nod.

She washed my chest gently, then ran the loofah down both of my arms before turning it on my stomach. Her lips parted, and her breath quickened as she watched her own motions, tracing the lines of my abs. She was so fucking sexy. A heady mixture of sensuality and innocence that pushed my control to the very limit of existence.

She hesitated when she drifted lower, and her eyes flew impossibly wide when she accidentally brushed over the head of my cock with her wrist.

I groaned, clenching my hands into fists to keep them off her.

Her cheeks flushed pink, and her gaze flew up, enough heat in those baby blues to tell me she hadn’t been afraid of what she’d seen there. Her lips trembled slightly, that motion telling me she was aware that she’d bitten off a little more than she was ready to chew.

I cocked an eyebrow at her, then turned around, giving her my back.

She washed the expanse of my back, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to arch back into her touch. Fuck, I wanted her. The need I felt for her was more than these months of abstinence, and more than the temptation of a fantasy that had come to life. It was so much deeper than that. My very soul wanted this woman, not just physically, but in every way possible.

I ached for her.

She lingered over a scar that was hidden in the pin of a grenade along my shoulder blade.

“Belt buckle.” The words echoed off the stone, and I braced my hands on the wall in front of me.

She simply stroked over that scar again, then moved to one on the left of my spine, disguised in the scales of a sugar-skulled mermaid.

“Edge of a table.”

She washed that spot gently, then continued her trek, soaping down my spine, over my ass, and down my thighs and calves. When she stood and reached the loofah around to my chest, I turned and stepped through the spray so it ran down my back.

Drops of water clung to her skin in a way I longed to, lingering before giving in to gravity and racing down the curves of her body. Fuck, I had to get out of here—had to get away before—

She ran her fingertips over the small, circular scar on my right pec, hidden in the inked ribs that led to the hands and heart in the center of my chest. Her eyes met mine in question.

“Cigarette,” I answered simply.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she drew a ragged breath.

I took her hand in mine as the loofah hit the floor, then pressed her fingertips to the half dozen others that raised the skin around the same spot.

Her lips pursed tight, but she followed each and every burn scar. Then she pressed her mouth to the centermost one and erased some of the pain in that memory with a simple kiss. My heart slammed so hard that I knew she had to be able to hear it as she kissed each scar in that region.

Her fingers quested over my rib cage on the opposite side, finding the raised, puckered flesh that formed a tight spiral.

“Stove burner.”

 I expected to see pity in her eyes, but there was none there when she lifted her face to mine. No, they were filled with anger and a touch of the rage that lived inside me.

“He pushed. I fell.” I shrugged.

She lowered her head and ran her lips over the horrific pattern that the tornado disguised within its swooping vortex. Again, some of the memory felt lighter to carry, as if she had somehow washed me clean.

When she rose, she moved forward until my cock rested against the smooth, warm skin of her belly. I hissed at the contact, pleasure shooting through me, sharp and sweet.

“You’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she said as her hands rested on my chest. “I get it now. You didn’t just cover them up. You reclaimed your body. You took back control.”

“Yes.” My hands cupped her face. “But I have little to no control when it comes to you.”

Her gaze flickered to my lips, and my blood heated another degree. She rose on the balls of her feet as her hands traveled to my shoulders, and she tilted her face back slightly, waiting for my choice.

I should have walked away. The better man would have.

I was never the better man.

That last tether on my self-control unraveled, and I brought my mouth to hers. The kiss started soft, but then she opened under me. I growled, sinking into her kiss with deep, swirling thrusts of my tongue against hers. She arched, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

I swept my hands down her body, bending slightly so I could reach her ass. She gasped with surprise as I lifted her easily, bringing her mouth level with mine. Her arms looped around my neck as her legs wrapped around my waist, her ankles locking neatly behind me.

She kissed me like she was starving for it—like she had to take every second of it just in case I changed my mind. The kiss moved from sinful and sexy to carnal as hell as I fucked her mouth with my tongue the way my cock ached to take her fully.

I turned toward the wall and anchored her against the smooth stone. She didn’t blink at the change in position, merely used the wall as leverage to push harder against me, rolling her hips so the head of my cock brushed over the wet lace of her thong.

“Fuck,” I groaned, shifting so one of my hands stroked over that same patch of lace from the cleft of her ass to the peak of her sex.

“Cannon!” She threaded her hands through my hair and held me still while she took her turn with my mouth, darting that little pink tongue against my teeth, the roof of my mouth, and my tongue.

I slid my fingers under her thong and found her soaked, wet with more than just the shower. She was slippery and swollen with need, with want for me. She made me feel powerful and weak, all in the same heartbeat.

“Please,” she murmured against my lips when I hesitated.

Her plea broke me in a way nothing else could, and I sank two fingers inside her pussy slowly. Fuck, the woman was soft, wet, silken fire.

She cried out, then tightened her thighs around me and lifted slightly, only to fall back on my fingers, riding me.

I was going to fucking lose it right here and now if I didn’t get away from her. This was it—the breaking point I’d tried so hard to keep from finding. My body rebelled at the thought of leaving hers, but my head knew it was the only way to keep her safe.

“We have to stop.” I barely recognized my own voice for the deep, sandpaper-rough way it came out.

She rose and fell again, moaning sweetly as she took my fingers to the hilt. Fuck, she was so god damned tight. When she rode up again, I thrust harder, then dragged my fingers along her inner wall as I retreated, only to push back in again and again.

“Fuck. I mean it. Persephone, you have to stop. We have to stop.” I pulled my fingers from the heat of her body and carried her from the shower while she protested.

“No, we don’t. Please, Cannon.” She looked at me with such stark need in her eyes that I nearly came undone. Instead, I set her on the counter and grabbed a soft, fluffy towel from the cabinet and wrapped her in it. Then I backed away, grabbing my own towel and wrapping it at my waist, which did nothing to disguise my erection.

“It’s for your own good.” My heartrate spiked at the effort it took to keep the five feet between us.

“My own good?” She hopped down from the counter, then dropped the towel.

I was stronger than this. I wasn’t some horny teenage boy. I was a fully grown man with a man’s appetite, and man’s ability to walk the fuck away.

Then she held my stare and pulled off her thong, stepping free of the lace and throwing the lace toward the hamper. I didn’t look to see if her aim was true.

I was too busy nearly swallowing my tongue.

She was all dips and curves that lead to thin strip of pale blond hair just above her sex. My mouth fucking watered.

“I’m a big girl, Cannon. I’m capable of deciding what my own good is.” Her chin rose.

“You’re tiny, Persephone. And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty fucking huge.”

Her gaze dropped to my towel. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I snapped. “Do you know how easily I could hurt you?”

Those blue eyes flared in understanding, and her lips parted. “Cannon, you’d never hurt me. Not in a million years. If you don’t trust yourself, then trust me, because I know that I’m always safe when I’m with you.”

I felt the countdown start. My cock pulsed, protesting the pressure of the towel. My breath hitched. My mind started mapping her body and planning my assault.

Three.

“You deserve someone far more gentle than I am to be your first,” I protested.

“I deserve you. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this—for you. I don’t want anyone else. I never have. Just you.” Her breasts rose with every breath. I’d start there first, maybe.

Two.

“You can’t take this back,” I tried again. “This isn’t something you can do over.”

She smirked. “Oh, I’m planning on doing it over and over again. With you. But I’m done chasing you.” She licked her lips. “So, I’ll make myself as clear as possible. I want you, Cannon. I want your body on top of mine, hot and insistent. I want to know how you feel inside of me. I want you to make love to me, and if that’s too gentle for you, then I want you to fuck me however you want.”

One.

“But you’re going to have to come to me this time.”

I snapped.

She was in my arms in a heartbeat, her mouth on mine, her legs around my waist as I carried her to my bedroom—our bedroom. I was going to worship her until she was so limp with pleasure that she’d have to crawl out of this bed.

I laid her down in the center of the bed, made sure she was comfortable, then I spread her knees, slid down the bed, and set my mouth on her.

She arched, crying out loudly as I licked her from pussy to clit, groaning at the sweet, heady taste of her. I teased her mercilessly, swirling my tongue around her, but never getting her there until her head writhed on the pillows above me.

“Cannon!” she demanded, her fingers sinking into my hair.

I sank my tongue inside her.

She groaned, rocking against my face as I filled her again and again. Her sensuality and open acknowledgment of her need took mine up to a painful level. I needed to be inside her. Needed to feel her come around me.

I licked back up to her clit, flicking and lashing the small bud, and when her moans turned to high-pitched, keening cries, I pressed against her with the flat of my tongue and rubbed over her with slow, steady pressure.

She came with a scream, her hips bucking sharply. I gripped her hips and held her still, pulling every wave of pleasure from her body, then working her up again, refusing to let the need ebb. I tested her with my fingers and found her drenched. Good.

“Cannon,” she pled, rocking against my tongue. “God. What are you doing to me?”

“Getting you ready.” I licked and sucked at her until her moans came in time with her breaths.

“Ready for what? Death? God, you feel so good!” Her hands twisted in the covers.

When her thighs started to tighten around my head, I rose over her and took in every detail of the moment. The flush that ran from her cheeks to her breasts. The quick pulse in her neck. The taste of her on my tongue and the sweet scent of apple blossoms filling my head.

I rolled to the side, reaching into my nightstand for a condom. I never fucked women here. This was my haven, but thank God I’d kept my stock there anyway.

“No,” she shook her head when I rose above her again.

“What?” I froze. “Did you change your mind?” My balls were going to be as blue as her fucking eyes, but I wasn’t going to take—

“No!” she startled, her hands cupping my face. “I want you. I just don’t want a condom.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry?” I’d never taken a woman without the thin barrier of rubber.

She tugged her lip between her teeth and shifted her legs on either side of my hips. “I don’t want this halfway. I want to feel your skin against mine. I want you to feel me.”

Holy shit, did I want that. My cock throbbed in agreement. Nothing but soft, wet, Persephone. “Princess, I’m not sure you want everything that comes with that.”

She nodded. “I do. I’m on the pill.”

Her pills were on the bathroom counter, where she’d taken them every night as we got ready for bed.

“Okay, but—”

“I’m clean,” she promised like I didn’t already fucking know that.

“Of course you are.” Fuck, I couldn’t think when I was close enough to feel the heat of her pussy with the tip of my dick.

“And you are, too,” she assured me.

“I am?” Why the fuck did that come out as a question?

“You are. First, because you told me you always use those,” she motioned at the condom in my hand. “And second, because if you weren’t, you never would have touched me. You wouldn’t put me in danger like that.”

My chest swelled with a sweet kind of ache. She was incredible. She was mine.

“You’re right,” I assured her.

She plucked the condom out of my hand and threw it.

Guess that settled it.

The head of my cock nudged her entrance as I settled between her thighs, careful to brace my weight on my elbows as I kissed her deep and hard.

“You’re sure?” I asked, my hips flexing instinctively and seating my cock flush against her. One push, one thrust, and I’d be inside her.

“I’m so sure,” she said with a bright smile and hazy eyes.

“Tell me if it hurts too much. You understand?” Sweat beaded on my skin, and my muscles trembled with restraint.

“I understand.” She kissed me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I pushed forward gently.

Her pussy strangled the head of my dick with exquisite pressure, and I groaned as I took that first inch. Her muscles protested, clamping down and nearly pushing me back out. I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so fucking turned on that I couldn’t see straight.

“You have to relax, Princess,” I whispered against her mouth.

“I’m trying,” she promised with a little nod. “God, you feel massive.”

This time the laugh slipped free, and I reveled in the simple joy of having this woman beneath me, even as she looked as frustrated as I felt.

“Hold on to me,” I told her as I held her tight and rolled. With her ass in my hands, I sat up and leaned back against our headboard, leaving my cock at her entrance as she kneeled above me, one knee on either side of my hips.

“What are we doing?” She rocked, sending a warm rush of heat over my dick.

“This way, you control it,” I told her. “Now, give me your mouth and lower yourself at your own pace.” I gripped the back of her neck with one hand, held her hip with the other, and kissed her senseless.

She panted through the kiss, rocking back and forth over my cock, taking me inch, by inch, by inch, until she took my entire length inside her.

Pleasure ripped through me, stripping my defenses. She owned me in every single way that I owned her. Totally, completely, and without reservation.

“Oh my God,” she groaned against my lips. “You feel so damned good, Cannon.”

“You feel like heaven,” I whispered, lowering my hips slightly and pushing back up into her with a tight, smooth glide. “Fucking flawless.”

She cried out when I stroked her again. Then she picked up the rhythm, rising and falling above me with slow, deep strokes that made me see stars. I pulled the cloth band from her hair, and it fell in a cascade of silk over my thighs as she threw her head back and rode me.

I was so fucking lost in her. The feel of her was beyond anything I’d ever known, and I clenched my teeth to hold back. When she leaned forward slightly, I took her breast in my mouth, sucking and licking at the peak while my hand shifted from her hip to her cleft so my thumb could stroke her clit.

“Cannon,” she began chanting, her movements growing jerky and slow above me as her thighs clenched my hips.

“That’s it, Princess,” I praised her as she gave in to the pleasure and fell over the peak, coming around me in waves that gripped my cock in a velvet vise. At that first squeeze, I flipped us so she was under me, rippling with her orgasm.

Then I pumped into her with deep, hard, steady thrusts, prolonging her orgasm as I chased my own, both seeking it and holding it off as long as possible. I wanted to live here, inside her, in this moment.

When she screamed my name again, clutching at my shoulders with those sharp little nails, my orgasm hit me like a freight train ripping me from my body with its intensity. I fell into her arms as I emptied myself inside her in three long thrusts.

We both shuddered, and I rolled us to my side so she could breathe. I cradled her head with one arm, and stroked down her back with long, sweeping motions with the other. That hadn’t been sex. It was something far beyond it. Something that transcended all the definitions in the world. It was beyond anything I’d ever experienced or read about in my entire life.

“You know what I’m thinking?” She asked with a sleepy laugh, tilting her head back so I could see her eyes.

“What?” Fuck, she was so beautiful.

Her grin stopped my heart. “At least I waited for marriage, right?”

I laughed. “You sure did.”

Then I cleaned us both up and started all over again. I was never going to get enough of her, and since I was never going to be allowed to keep her, I’d better savor it while it lasted.

It lasted all night.