Wanting Mr. Cane

FIVE

**Just a fair warning: Things get a little explicit during this part and will probably keep getting hotter throughout the rest of the story. And by explicit I mean really, really sexy and really, really taboo. Read with caution. You've been warned!**

KANDY

Without giving it much thought at all, I pressed my lips on his, climbing on his lap, and kissing him. His lips were soft, just like I imagined they would be. He tensed up again, and I heard a groan fill the back of this throat. He was straining in his jeans now, rock solid.

He broke the kiss, pressing a hand against my shoulder to lightly push me back, frowning at me. His eyes were hard as he tore himself away, his lips parted and damp. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he rasped.

"Nothing is wrong with me," I answered. I meshed my lips together, focused on his mouth, wanting another illicit taste.

"Fuck," he cursed. He watched me longer. "Why are you doing this to me, Kandy?"

"What am I doing?" I asked with a gentle moan.

"You're making me want you."

"You want me?"

"Yes, I fucking want you and I hate that I'm even admitting it."

My heart caught speed and I got off his lap, but fisted his shirt in my hands. "Cane, please. Just...don't treat me like a child tonight, okay?"

His head shook, his self-control slowly but surely slipping away. I slid close to him again, running my hand over the hard rock in his pants like I did before. His eyes fell down, locking on my mouth. I kept rubbing him, feeling his cock twitch beneath my palm. Our lips were close again. My breasts were pressed on his chest. I wanted him so bad I couldn't even think clearly.

Grabbing my face between his hands, he tilted my chin, looking me all over with a searing hot gaze. He exhaled raggedly, the tip of his nose running down my jawline and then back up, over my cheek and then the arch of my nose. He sighed and groaned, bringing his mouth down, closer to mine.

He paused, hesitated, hardly breathing.
I wasn't breathing either. Not much.
Just when I thought he would pull away, he brought my face closer to his, doing exactly what I wanted him to do. He crushed my lips with his, pressing his body to mine.

I sighed when his tongue traced the line between my lips, demanding that I give him access. I parted them, and his tongue slid through, dancing and playing with mine.

I could taste the scotch on his breath, the cigarettes he'd probably smoked before picking me up. His breathing was harsher, more ragged, like he couldn't control himself. Like he wanted to stop, but wasn't strong enough to pull away.
I tore at his belt buckle then, unzipping his pants blindly. I wasn't an amateur at this. I'd made out with a lot of boys at parties I wasn't supposed to attend with Frankie. I'd lie to my parents and said I was just having a sleepover at her place, when really I was planning on going to a party with her and then crashing at her place afterwards.

It was in that moment, when his jeans were unzipped and my moan filled him up, that Cane took full control. He gripped my shoulders and forced my back down on the couch. I shoved his jeans down with my hands and feet and then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his upper body.

His body was just as I'd imagined. Strong. Broad. Solid. Tan, smooth, and toned in all the beautiful places. He had even more tattoos, so many different and creative works of art on his body. He was a work of art himself. He lowered himself, meshing his groin between my legs, kissing my neck as my fingers ran over the dips in his muscular back, sinking deeper with each fluid motion.