Cayce practically lunged out of the chair then cupped his hands around my elbows, tugging until I was on my feet.
As soon as I was, he bent down, knocked my already shaky legs out from under me then scooped me up. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, expecting that he would carry me the dozen or so feet it took to reach his room.
He headed for the stairs instead.
“You’re carrying me up all those steps?” I asked in a breathless whisper.
“We’re not doing this in your daddy’s old room, that’s for damn sure,” he chuckled. “Also, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about being in your room with you, taking you in there on your old bed.”
“Cayce,” I murmured, heart in my throat. “Hurry.”
We made it to the top of the stairs seconds later. My bedroom door was open and he carried me inside to place me tenderly atop the mattress. I looked up at him, still half afraid this wasn’t real.
“How long ago did you start thinking about me that way?” I asked shyly when I saw the heated look in his eyes.
“Far longer than I’m comfortable admitting, love. It’s hard being treated like a part of the family when you realize you want to be a real family member, but not by blood. Confuses the hell out of a man. And you may look back and think you were throwing hot, googly eyes at me all the time, but you weren’t, Ash.”
Leaving me alone on my bed, he walked over to the window and parted the lace curtains. He unlatched the window and pushed it up, the scent of dew-coated grass filling the room.
“I wasn’t sure how your daddy would feel about my wanting to see you even after you were old enough for me to ask. I figured I had a lot of things to prove to the both of you before I could do that.” He leaned his backside against the sill, his hands wrapped around its bottom ledge. “But despite my knowing you were off-limits, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about climbing up to this very window, waking you up slowly with my mouth on every inch of your body.”
He pushed forward and quietly prowled toward the bed. Resting a fist and one knee on the mattress, he ran his other hand from the curve of my shoulder, down the side of my breast and stomach then to my hip.
“I actually used to fantasize about finding you like this, dressed just like this, waiting for me.”
Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded.
“I might have fantasized about the same thing,” I admitted. I certainly had after I bought the peignoir set.
Cayce slid onto his side next to me. Leaning over, he covered my mouth with his. The hand by my hip surfed over my flesh to cup my mound and softly squeeze.
“How long,” he asked. “How long did it take for me to make you moan in your fantasies, Ash?”
Choking on embarrassment, I coughed. “Not long at all.”
His lips coasted over to my ear, the better to tease me with his softly voiced interrogation.
“Did you touch yourself during these fantasies?”
“Did you?” I croaked back.
He laughed, the volume muted but the amusement full bodied. A shimmy of his hips and he was out of his boxers, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft. I wanted to turn to him, but he nudged me back into place.
“I pretended it was your hand, your mouth, your sweet pussy moving up and down my cock.”
I started to shake as I imagined what he had imagined.
“Your turn to answer, love. Did you touch yourself?”
Hell yes, I had.
I couldn’t speak my confession out loud, but my hands crept down to tug up the gown as I nodded. Cayce slid his fingers between my thighs, wrapped his big hand around the one alongside him and hauled it up to rest across his leg. His fingers skated to where I had touched myself those many, many nights.
“Did you get all honeyed up for me?”
I groaned in answer.
“Was your pussy this honeyed?” he teased as his fingers slicked along my labia then down the length of my clit to explore the throbbing center of my sex.
“No,” I confessed. As hot and hard as I had driven myself those nights, having Cayce next to me created an entirely new, previously unexplored level of arousal.
Wet with my juices, he wrapped his hand around his shaft once more and gave a short pump.
“Show me, love.”
A climax threatened at his firm command. I moved my shaky hands to my pussy, one tasked with spreading my labia while the other rubbed at my clit. My hips started to dance as I stared at his face. His gaze was glued to my swollen, trembling flesh. A strangled cry left my throat as I fought back the release that wanted to flood through me.
“Show me, baby,” he whispered in my ear. “Show me how you come when you’re thinking about me.”
Shuddering, I rubbed harder, pinched at my clit, pulled and rubbed some more, my hips starting to go wild. I moaned, fingers scrubbing at my thick, swollen flesh.
My hips bucked, my ass lifted.
I jerked and Cayce was no longer whispering commands in my ear. He was between my legs, his face pressed against my pussy, his tongue along my clit and three hard fingers driving into me as the climax continued. I bucked harder, grabbing my breasts as I cried out.
Wrapping my hands around the back of his head, I ground upward in desperate thrusts that matched the invasion and retreat of his fingers. I shook. My teeth chattered. He kept licking, sucking, fucking his fingers deeper, twisting in and out until a scream left me, a second robust climax wetting his face.
I collapsed onto the bed, a quivering mess. Cayce worked me out of the gown and robe, maneuvering my rubbery limbs so that he had me stripped mere seconds after I landed back on the mattress. My legs were still open, thighs spread wide as cool air fanned the hot flesh of my pussy.
Cayce thrust into me. His torso covered mine. His lips and teeth found the sensitive skin of my neck, sucking and biting as he took long, hard strokes in and out. My battered muscles hugged him, gripping and shuddering in turns with fresh need.
I grabbed his ass, my nails digging into the tightly bunched muscles, holding him inside, urging him deeper.
“So perfect, baby,” he groaned in my ear, sucking and tonguing the lobe as soft mewls of need squirmed in my throat. “I love you, Ash.”
I sobbed the words back, telling him I loved him, telling him that I had never loved another man.
We rocked together, our throats strangling on gurgles and groans. His fat cock stretched me, filled me from the tight mouth of my pussy to the yawning head of my uterus as my body tried to pull him all the way into me, to make us one writhing beast.
“So fucking hot, Ash,” he growled, his chest lifting off mine. Thrusting hard inside me, he locked gazes with me, his gray eyes almost black in a room lit only by the moon. “I love every inch of your body, baby.”
Forcing his weight onto one hand, he lifted the other to palm my breast. He plucked at the nipple. My body arched against him in reply.
“You’re mine, love,” he warned, covering me again. “My love, my wife.”
“Yes,” I murmured, wanting him to claim me, wanting to claim him in return. “My love, my husband.”
The thrusts slowed. He lowered his face to mine, our foreheads touching as he moved deeper and deeper inside me. He cupped my cheek, both of us breathing with harsh pants as the tension built too high to resist. My muscles coiled around him, clutching at the thickness that filled me. He kept moving, digging, stroking.
I closed my eyes against the pleasure, an ocean roaring in my head. Not even all of the world’s oceans could have blocked out his whispered assurances.
He loved me.
I was beautiful.
I was all he would ever want.
He would want me forever.
Heart swelling inside my chest, I felt Cayce freeze. I strained against him, my body hugging him tight inside me as his cock thickened with his approaching release. His shaft jerked, his cum filling me in fat stringy jets, nothing between us. Flesh on flesh, just like it had been in all those fantasies.
Shaking with my own climax, I cried out, clutching at him with every muscle, stars exploding against my closed eyelids until we both collapsed and Cayce rolled to the side.
He worked the blankets up, his chin resting against my shoulder as his fingers continued to tease between my thighs. He kissed the corner of my jaw then blew playfully in my ear.
“Ashley Heather Gerard,” he said, propping himself up on an elbow and staring down at my face. “Will you marry me—again?”
“Yes,” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck and holding on tight until morning forced us from our bed.