Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I never would have anticipated that someone taking care of me would be such an aphrodisiac, but there was no denying it was the case with Cato.
I guess I had never been open to the potential for anything soft and sweet with the opposite sex being exciting. But Cato and I had fucked hard and rough and had explored slow and sweet. I loved them both.
Cato’s magic fingers finished my feet, then he got to his feet suddenly, breaking the spell I’d been under.
“Where are you going?” I asked, trying not to sound as disappointed as I felt.
“Nowhere,” he said, leaning over me, reaching out, and starting to draw my panties down my legs, masterfully avoiding the bandages in the process.
Then he was lowering himself down, reaching to spread my thighs wide for him, then sliding between.
His lips pressed to the inside of my knee, then blazing an unhurried path upward, then down the other thigh. Until I was trembling with the need.
Still, he seemed content to torture me forever.
Until my hands sank into his hair at the back of his head and pulled him against me.
His tongue circled the hood around my clit, refusing to give me the direct contact I was aching for until my thighs were shaking and my hips were writhing up into him. Until I was whimpering his name.
Then and only then, his tongue glided across my clit, making a low moan escape me.
It didn’t take much for him to start driving me up, making me lose the bad memories, and the evidence of the experience etched into my skin, the pain associated with it all.
All there was for a few blissful moments was his tongue working magic, his fingers sliding inside of me, and the orgasm that screamed through my system, leaving me shaky and exhausted afterward.
He looked up at me after, grinning, pleased with himself, then stole my melty ice cream off the end table and finished it off himself.
“So… what now?” I asked a while later.
I wasn’t even sure what I was asking.
What movie next? What were we eating for dinner from Eddie’s feast he’d dropped over? What was going to happen a day, week, month from now?
“Now… whatever we want.”
That was his answer.
And it was perfect.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cato
Rynn managed to be a model patient for all of… three days.
She let me clean and dress her wounds, bring her food, feed her cats, do some basic chore shit around her place.
Sometime in there, we got word from Ama that her labs were back and there was nothing to worry about.
But by the fourth day?
She was surly and antsy, grumbling when I tried to do anything for her.
“I can make my own coffee!”
Me? I took that shit with a grain of salt. Because I knew full-well just how fucking miserable I’d been after I’d gotten shot, and needed to take it easy, relying on my brothers to bring me shit, and help me do basic life tasks.
I was used to being busy, to doing what I wanted when I wanted to.
It had been beyond frustrating to be waited on and treated like I was incapable of doing things that used to come so easily.
On that fourth day, it was fine for her legs and arms to go without dressing or ointment anymore. Her stomach wasn’t making her wince unless she bumped it by accident.
Really, she was back to normal, save for the bruises. I had just gotten used to taking care of it. What’s more, I enjoyed it.
But it was clear she was done being treated with kid gloves.
“What’re your plans today?” she asked when she came out of the shower, her long hair still wrapped up in a towel, and another one around her body.
I had managed to keep my desires to myself, despite her closeness that seemed to immediately overwhelm my system.
I had not kept my hands to myself, though.
Because when she got mopey or frustrated, I found that my mouth and my fingers put her back into a good mood in no time flat.
“Fuck,” I hissed as she got closer to the bed, that damn towel slitting up her thigh with each step.
My cock was straining already, pushing out against the sweatpants Levee had dropped off along with a couple other changes of clothes the night after we’d gone to the clinic to see Ama.
“You,” I said as she stopped at the end of the bed, taking a deep breath that had her tits straining against the material of the towel. “You’re my plans. For the next hour or so anyway,” I told her, watching as her lips twitched as her gaze moved over me.
I didn’t bother with a shirt like she often didn’t bother with pants, so her eyes roamed over the outlines of my abs before seeing my cock straining the material of my pants.