57. Golden Bliss

Golden Bliss

" C ommand?" I couldn't help the gasp as his hand slid down my front. Fingertips teased along the vee of my hips. His cock flexed against my thigh.

"Was it merely a suggestion?" he asked, breath hot against my skin. "It didn't sound like one." His fingers slid a little lower, brushing against my trimmed pubic hair.

That contact sent a spike of hot need into my core, as sharp as a knife. "Cass," I gasped out, arching back into him.

"How do you feel about me delaying it the way I was dampening my stress?" Cass asked in a throaty voice. "Not control, exactly. Merely reining in the horse so that we can enjoy the journey." His calloused thumb swept across my skin. "And since it seems like petting without orgasming isn't in our physical portfolio, how do you feel about embracing circumstance, and letting me slide these fingers a few inches further down?"

My whole core tensed at the thought. "Really really good," I said, every inch of my skin demanding more. "You should definitely one hundred percent do that."

He rumbled a laugh. "Gods, I love it when you're flustered." His fingers traced down towards my clit with torturous slowness. "I love that I get to make you flustered. I love," Cass said in a low purr, "that I get to make you wet ."

The rough pads of his fingers landed on my clit with searing pleasure. I grabbed onto his wrist with a choked-off gasp, my hips bucking up into the perfection of his touch.

Cass groaned deep in his throat. He rocked his fingers against me, never missing even with the way I was writhing up against him. His fingers were so much wider than mine, enough so that he could pin my clit against my pelvic bone with a single finger. He did, keeping pressure on me as he rolled his finger side-to-side, each movement sending a bright burst of pleasure into me. His hips started moving in time to his strokes, setting a pace for me and demanding I follow .

I obeyed his body, and oh, holy fuck, it felt so good. His fingers on me, and his cock grinding against me, and his big hand wrapped around my thigh to drag me harder against him—I would have come in a heartbeat, except that Cass really could delay instead of capping, putting a damper on the build-up so that I had to chase it, every part of my soul fixated on the building tension inside me. My body clenched down on itself, swollen and needy. The wet of my first orgasm slicked my thighs, letting his fingers slide smoothly.

Fucking gorgeous , he growled through our bond, and sent me a snippet of how I looked to him, my body arching into his touch and his fingers pressed between my legs. In his sight, I wasn't just a lean girl with small tits. Cass looked at me like I was a goddess. He saw me painted with his want: the sight of my stiff nipples wetting his mouth with the desire to lave his tongue across them and make me moan for him, the span of my stomach measured by the breadth of his hands, the gleam of wet between my legs his oasis in the desert.

That glimpse of myself made me whimper, falling into the pleasure he offered. I closed my eyes and thought of him , answering him with memories of the way the sight of him turned my world upside-down. The rugged power of his body that made me want to rake my nails across him, the intoxicating contrast of his danger and gentleness, the way his hands moved— fuck , the way his hand looked between my legs, dark skin between pale thighs, my wet marking his fingers past the second knuckle.

"I love the sight of you," he purred into my ear. "The sound of you. The smell of you. I dream of having my tongue between your legs and my cock sunk to the hilt in your cunt."

"Then taste me," I said in gasp, back arching as he pinned my clit between two fingers and started rubbing them in countermotion. "Fuck, Cass, take what you want from me."

He all but snarled, an animalistic sound. His cock jumped against my thigh and his other hand moved between my legs, cupping me. The heat of his touch made my pussy throb.

One finger slid into me, moving in time with his thrusts. I cried out, head thrown back and body in a rictus of pleasure, my core spasming down against him. He kept finger-fucking me, pushing deeper into me, until he was buried to his last knuckle in me. "Do you want me to taste what I do to you?" Cass asked roughly, not stopping. "To measure your desire by your flavor? I may never stop craving it once I have you on my tongue." He drove his finger in deeper, curling it and dragging it back along my g-spot.

I bucked into his hand with another sharp cry, unable to top. I needed it—needed it—

He pulled his finger out, leaving me whining. With a harsh breath, Cass raised his hand to his face and slid that finger into his open mouth .

He almost came from it. Pleasure spiked in my core, not from me but from him , and every sensation in my body redoubled. My pulse pounded in my ears, all my skin hot and tight. His cock jumped against my thigh: once, twice, the tingling promise of release tightening in his groin and clenching in mine. I could feel the ache in his sack and the precome leaking from his cock. I could taste myself on his tongue, sharp and acidic, so perfect and so demanding that the whole world seemed to stand still.

"I need—I—oh, fuck—" I panted out, unable to make my voice work for anything else besides moans. I sent him the image instead, his fingers buried inside me. Even thinking about it made my pussy spasm, my whole body desperate for penetration.

"I know," he said, groaning the words. "Holy gods, I can feel it—feel what you want—" As if the words broke his self-control, Cass shoved his left hand back down between my legs and buried two fingers inside me with rough need.

I cried out, head thrown back against him. His fingers hooked up hard, slamming into my g-spot with the base of his thumb grinding the fingertips of his right hand against my clit, and that was the end for me. My pussy clenched down and I broke, orgasm thundering into me. Everything narrowed down to the soaring waves of pleasure as my core pulsed against my soulmate's hand, gripping him over and over.

He gasped out my name as he came with me. Fingertips dug into my thigh. Wings clawed the air. Cass drove his cock against me so hard it hurt, the perfect sweetness of his come pumping through him making me whimper, my whole body shaking from the pleasure.

"Oh—oh—Quyen, I—if I don't stop now, I surely won't stop at all —" he moaned, still grinding his hips against me. "Fuck, you feel so good on me—so good for me. I— I—"

That didn't sound so bad to me—but I could hear the desperation in his voice, and the shakiness of fear left my skin cold. He wanted to choose. He wanted to choose when he wasn't so entangled with my pleasure that he couldn't think, and that was—that was only fair.

So I reached up and grabbed him by the back of the neck, loving the feel of his sweat and his skin. "Then stop," I said, focusing on my affection for him instead of the way our bodies begged for more. "C?c vàng. Stop."

Cass let out a low whimper, but he stopped grinding his hips and hand against me. Slowly, shakily, he pulled his fingers out of me. With a sharp exhale, my soulmate rolled onto his back, breathing hard. His hands went up to his face, his two wet fingers held away from his skin.

"'Gold piece'?" he asked, his voice rough.

I rolled over to look at him. He had the wing closest to me pinned tight under his shoulder and the other sprawled, and the wet patch on his pants was… significant. "It's a common Vietnamese endearment," I said, my eyes drifting back up along his powerful body to his shielded face. "People use it to mean someone who 's precious to them. I guess a more indirect translation could be 'treasure.'"

He lowered his hands to look at me. "Is that what I am to you?" he asked, sounding like his heart was in his throat.

Gently, I set my hand on his arm, giving him easy access to everything I was. The tension dropped out of my shoulders, Cass relaxing the instant I had my skin against his, the knowledge of my happiness and pleasure inescapable. "It is. You are," I said, the words falling between us like stones into a still pond. "I don't regret that choice I made on the mountaintop at all. I'd make the same call knowing what waited for me on the other side." My mouth kicked up into a smile. "Honestly, I'd make the call faster. You'd be halfway through asking, and I'd just be all, 'crown now, k thanks bye.'"

That startled Cass into laughter, his dimple showing when he grinned at me. "I liked 'I'm willing' better."

"Well," I said, my expression warm, "I'm still that, too."

"Good," he said. He draped his arm across his abs and let his head fall to the side, his affection buoying me.

His smile was like basking in the sun.