“Feel like I should say something, on account of my still being locked up ’cause last time,” Lucas paused, “this happened, I kept my mouth shut.”
Then he added, “Though it’s hardly my fault Ash has a thing for cages. And for doing Cage in a cage—not my pun.”
Cage’s head fell forward against the bars. Hard. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” Then quieter, “How am I not scenting that fucker?”
“You could kill him,” Ash said, blushing when she remembered what Lucas knew, but her earlier anger—at them both—had faded. Apparently, Cage hadn’t let him out yet, which meant he was way more pissed about it than she was. She lifted her hand up to caress Cage’s forehead where it had struck the iron bars. “Or you could let me out and leave him there some more.”
Cage apparently liked that plan. While he unlocked the cell, she asked him, “Why were you in your cat form when I woke up?”
“I’ve seen yours; figured you should see mine.”
Then he grasped her hand and led her along the corridor and out into the bullpen. Which was empty.
“Where is everyone?”
“Night shift is working from the second floor tonight.”
“So, there’s no one here?”
“Only us.”
“But why’d you send them upsta—” her words were cut off by Cage’s mouth. He captured her lips then picked her up at the waist. Her legs wrapped around his hips, fighting against the tight confines of her pencil skirt, which rucked up her thighs as he carried her, through a long, hot, desperate kiss, towards his office.
He didn’t even need to look where he was going.
“What are you doing?” She wasn’t sure if she really cared about the answer. Was too delighted to have her hands on miles of bare, muscular chest. Ripped abdominals. Hot skin. She was delighted he had not put a shirt on.
“Fulfilling a fantasy.”
“Carrying me through the bull pen?”
“Fucking you on my desk.” He said the words even as he lowered her onto the hard surface. His hands wrapped around her hips and he slid her across the rosewood surface so he could nestle into her. Her skirt stopped him from getting as close as he wanted, so he reached down and slid it further up her thighs. Grasped her thin white blouse and ripped it open, then, before Ash could do more than think oh my, reached in and pulled her tits out of her bra so they were pushed high and framed by pale blue lace.
“This is about where we were the other night.”
She thought about where he’d had his fingers. Tilted her head. “Not quite.”
“Careful, kitten. I’m on a knife edge here. I’m trying not to just start fucking away in you without first getting you wet.’
“Been wet for three years, Cage.”
The words ripped something loose inside him. His eyes took on a feral edge. He hooked a finger in the crotch of her panties and tore them away. Sank to his knees and buried his mouth in her cunt.
Ash gripped the golden-red strands between her thighs and whimpered at the sensation of Cage’s mouth. The hard, unexpected suction on her clit. She arched, pulling him closer, even though that was impossible.
Moaned his name incoherently.
How could this man twist her into fractions of herself so quickly? Parts that were somehow more than a whole. Sometimes he felt like silk. Other times like the finest grade of sandpaper—friction against her sensitive clit. That was how he stroked her. With soft friction.
Then his fingertip circled the entrance to her cunt. Scraped a nail gently around the sensitive rim. Ash shuddered, arching back, white-blonde strands pooling on the burnished patina of the polished desk.
Back. Back. Cage’s hand guiding her down until she lay against the surface.
One long leg wrapped around his shoulder, holding him in place. Giving her a fulcrum she could use to rock against his wicked tongue. Against the fingers that were–oh god–breaching her.
Her hand struck out blindly, desperate for anything to sink her claws into. She heard a dim crash as something clattered to the floor.
Her only point of connection to the world was Cage and where he touched her.
The fingers that weren’t buried inside her parted her labia, exposing the vulnerable pink interior, glistening with need. He slicked it up and down, gliding over the flesh that was swollen in welcome.
Worked his fingers in her cunt, just as he had the last time. Stretching her. Priming her.
“Tight, Ash. It’s gonna be tight.”
He was right. Cage was much larger than her. Everywhere. She hadn’t even been able to wrap her hand fully around his cock when she’d sucked him off.
He was going to test her limits. She moaned.
Now. She wanted that now. But she didn’t want this to end.
Soft friction brought her arching up from the desk, tits thrust high.
Cage growled and his mouth left her, scaled her body in an instant and latched onto her nipple. His arm wrapped around her waist. Kept her arched back as he tormented the tight, aching bead.
Suckled with the same pressure he’d given her clit, which was now being worked by his thumb, as he began to test her limits with a third finger.
Ash didn’t realize she was holding her breath at the tight pull on her cunt until she saw black spots.
“Cage,” she mumbled. “Cage, please. Fuck me.”
“I am.” He levered his fingers in.
Then out.
In, as far as he could go.
Out.
Then somehow, back in even further.
“Want your cock. Please.”
“Not ready.”
She was on the verge of screaming. It was so good. Better than anything she had ever felt, but her body carried some instinctive awareness that if she could just have Cage inside her, it would be even better.
“Want it now.” That sounded like a petulant child. She gathered her wits and fought through the mind-clouding sensations.
“I think I proved today that I know what I want.”
Cage’s eyes darkened, flared wild. His fingers slid free, her internal muscles protesting the retreat. His hand went to his jeans, flicked undone the copper buttons he’d secured only recently and freed his cock.
If she’d been capable of continuing to think rationally, she may have uttered a prayer of thanks. Her memory had not exaggerated things.
Cage was sublime.
She was unprepared when he tugged her upright.
“Watch.” The command was guttural.
She looked down to where his cock jutted out, poised at her entrance. Then, Ash was sliding sideways along the desk. He stopped her a little shy of the corner and hooked her left knee around that edge. He grasped her other ankle and raised it up along his chest, until it was resting against his shoulder.
Opening her up for him.
Cage swirled the head of his cock in the little hollow of her entrance, slicking it up, and then began to push. Slowly but firmly, until she began to stretch to let him in. Until they were on the verge of the moment where he would breach her. Wedge her open with his cockhead.
Ash watched. Ragged breath only matched by Cage’s. She expected him to press deeper. To keep going.
But he didn’t.
Barely a second after fitting the head inside, he pulled free, and her cunt contracted without his thickness opening her wide.
Then he did it again.
And again.
Each time was just a tiny bit easier, as he slicked and spread her lustre around.
Ash’s cunt began to clench, rebelling against the emptiness. The next time he breached, her hand scrambled down. Wrapped around Cage’s cock and tugged him, trying to get him inside. Cage hissed and bucked, pushing in an inch deeper than he’d yet been.
Raw, explicit words left his mouth. “Bad, bad, kitten. Now you’re in for it.”
Then he forged deep. Parting her muscles and aching walls. Carving out a place as he worked all the way inside her.
Amber and Aegean eyes watched, until he was hilted inside.