Page 75 of Make Me

Page List


Font:  

“Because I’ll never lie to you,a chuisle.”Those Irish words are like a dagger between my ribs, prying them open in search of my heart. “I’ve told you before, anything you want, it’s yours. So what do you want, Harlow? You want me to walk away?”

“I—”

“Because if that’s truly what you want, I’ll do it. It might kill me, but I’ll do it.” I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for an answer to come to me. Because while I know this has to end, saying that feels like anything but the right answer right now.

“I want you…” I can almost sense his body tense on the other side of the door as I struggle for the right words. “I want you to be mine.”

He releases a pained sigh, and it wedges the dagger a little deeper because I know what I have to say next. “Just for tonight.”

“A chuisle—”

“I’m gonna open the door now.” I stand and twist the lock, opening the door.

Cash stands before me with disheveled hair and bloody knuckles. His shirt has several buttons open, and his tattoos stand out like a heavenly masterpiece against his skin. The sight of him makes my fucking heart weep.

“Just one night.” I can barely hear myself over my own heartbeat.

“I can’t do that,a chuisle.”

“I can’t live not knowing what it’s like to feel you inside me,” I whisper, and Cash’s eyebrows fold, his eyes clenching like he’s in pain. “I know what you said but—”

“I’ll do it. I’ll be yours. For tonight.”

“Okay,” I breathe. He holds his palm out over the threshold. When I take it, the heat sears my skin like the most glorious warmth and the most painful burn. With his hand in mine, I lead him to my bedroom.

Butterflies beat up a storm in my stomach as he takes a seat in my desk chair and faces me where I’m standing in the middle of the room. “Strip.”

“By myself?”

“If all I get is one night, I don’t want to miss a single second. Now strip for me,a chuisle.”

I feel shy as I pull my dress straps down one by one and shimmy the silken material down my body. Cash bites his fist as I unclasp my bra, and his smoldering gaze makes my cheeks burn.

He nods to my nightstand. “Get yourself ready for me.” I understand his message clearly, and lie naked on my bed, then retrieve my bullet vibe from my nightstand.

I turn it on. The buzzing sound is abrasive in the quiet room, but it dampens when I press it to my core. A sharp inhale is sucked from my chest, and Cash leans back in the chair with a throaty rumble.

“Spread your legs,a chuisle.Let me see that pretty pussy glisten.” I scooch up the bed and drop my knees to the side. “Fuck…”The crease between his brows deepens as he watches me writhe with the vibrations.

My breathing quickens and he knows I’m close; he can read me so well. He stands and begins undressing without ever taking his gaze off me. He climbs next to me and trails the back of his hand down my cheek, then neck, and between my breasts to rest on my belly, flexing with each pulse against my clit.

“You’re right on the edge aren’t you?”

I whimper and nod, tension lighting up my senses. “Why?”

He crawls over me and settles himself between my thighs. “Because I want you to come the moment I make you mine.” There’s nothing possessive about his tone like in the club. Instead it is dripping with sweetness and nostalgia for something that hasn’t even happened yet.

My toes begin to curl and my muscles contract. “Now, Cash.”

Cash hooks my legs over his hips and plunges into me. As his cock glides into my pussy, I shatter. His arms holding him up tremble as I cry out with release and clench around him. He fills me so perfectly, it aches. I mewl when he pulls halfway out and slams back in with a grunt.

“So fucking perfect,a chuisle.This pussy was made for me.” He thrusts again. “And I was made for you.”

I gasp with each sharp punch of his hips, my body still pulsing from my orgasm. Each drag of his cock along my g-spot sends aftershocks of pleasure through me.

I reach for his face and clutch his handsomeness between my palms as I bring him down to kiss me. A kiss has never been so light but so deep. His lips barely brush against mine, and yet I feel his heart in it. On his next thrust, I moan, and he swallows it by parting my lips with his tongue and drinking me in. My heart swells, feeling too tight in my ribcage.

He starts pounding a little harder into me and I inhale sharply. “I’m sorry,a chuisle,I can’t go slow anymore.”


Tags: Summer O'Toole Romance