Page 152 of Double Standards

“I want to take that mouth,” I growl as her hand slides into my pants. My cock springs free and she wraps her fingers around me, smug and sinful.

“Fuck,” I breathe, eyes fluttering closed for one reckless second.

“Tell me more,” she whispers.

“You drive me so fucking crazy.”

She kisses down my neck, tongue hot and wet against my skin, and I hiss through my teeth. She knows what she’s doing—driving me mad inch by inch, until I’m nothing but raw nerve and need.

“Cassie,” I warn as she keeps teasing, denying me her mouth, her body. I yank at the tie again. I could break it, but I don’t. Not yet.

She wants to play.

But when she takes my cock into her mouth, all bets are off.

“Fuck, yes,” I groan, watching her, loving the way her lips look wrapped around me. Every lick, every suck is pure torture. Her mouth is heaven and hell at once, and I’d let her kill me with it if it meant dying inside her.

“Look at me,” she commands. I do. God, I do. And she smirks like a queen.

She’s taking her time, building me up just to break me down. And when she pulls away just before I come, leaving me throbbing and undone, I see stars.

“You don’t get to come unless I tell you,” she says, mocking me with my own rules.

I laugh, low and feral. She’s good. She’s learning. But she has no idea what she’s unleashed.

When she grinds her wet pussy against me, I snap.

In one brutal motion, I flip her onto her back, watching her wide eyes drink me in like I’m a monster—her monster.

“How did?—”

“You’ve had your fun,” I whisper, shoving her thighs apart. “Now I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”

She teases me with a grin, but I’m done playing.

I thrust into her in one slow, punishing stroke, filling her until she gasps.

“There’s only one thing better than fucking your mouth,” I murmur against her ear, pausing just to hear her breath hitch. “And that’s fucking this perfect pussy.”

She moans, my name a broken prayer on her lips.

I set a rhythm deep, precise, brutal in its tenderness. I watch her fall apart beneath me, eyes glazed, mouth slack. I want to burn the image into my mind forever.

“Are you going to give me what I want?” I ask, slamming into her harder.

“Yes,” she cries. “Yes, Axel. Oh, God. Yes!”

Her orgasm hits and I follow, groaning her name like it’s the only word I remember.

And maybe it is because when I’m inside her, when she’s wrapped around me like this, nothing else exists. Nothing else matters. Just Cassie. My salvation. My chaos. My queen.

By the time we get out the door, we’re ten minutes late and I’m not exactly walking straight. Cassie’s satisfied smirk as she buttons her coat says she knows it too.

“You think you’re funny,” I mutter as I open the car door for her.

She slides into the passenger seat, smug and glowing in a way that makes my chest ache. She’s carrying my child. My fucking child. I’m still trying to get used to the way that soft, almost visible bump curves beneath her clothes. The reminder that something good—somethingours—is growing inside her.

“You're quiet now,” she teases, glancing over at me as I drive into the city. “Already planning how you’ll tie me up next time?”