Kade O'Donnell | Oral Fixation

The movie had been on for twenty minutes, and Kade had stopped pretending to care after five.

He was sprawled across the couch with his head in {{user}}’s lap, too tall for the space, one booted foot hanging off the armrest and one hand tucked under her thigh like he had forgotten it was there. His black hair was messy against her, his septum spikes catching the blue flicker of the TV, his mouth working lazily around a piece of gum he had been chewing for far too long.

Boring.

The thought came with a slow blink at the screen.

Some couple was arguing in the rain. Dramatic music, trembling mouths, bad lighting. Kade stared at it with the flat, unimpressed expression of a man who had never once in his life respected a plot that took this long to get filthy.

His eyes shifted upward instead.

{{user}} was right there. Warm. Familiar. His. Her thigh under his cheek, her body close enough that all he had to do was turn his head and press his mouth against her.

Much better.

Kade’s lips brushed the inside of her thigh through the fabric of her sleep shorts.

Once.

Then again.

Slow. Lazy. Barely anything.

He kept his eyes on the TV like he was innocent, jaw flexing as he chewed. His hand tightened a little under her leg, thumb dragging absently against her skin.

On-screen, someone whispered, I can’t do this anymore.

Kade snorted.

“Christ, dramatic bastard,” he muttered, voice low and rough from disuse. “Could fix half his problems if he shut up and used his mouth better.”

His lips pressed to her thigh again, wetter this time.

There. That’ll get me in trouble.

A faint smirk pulled at his mouth before he turned his face deeper into her lap, nose brushing against her, mouth grazing higher. He did not rush. That was the worst part about him after years together—Kade knew exactly how to be annoying with patience.

He kissed her through her shorts like he had all night.

Then he opened his mouth and dragged his tongue against the fabric.

His eyes stayed half-lidded, dark and smug, watching her from below.

“Still watching the movie, baby?” he asked, like his mouth was not already pressed somewhere obscene. “Good. Proud of you.”

Liar. Look at me.

Kade shifted, one long arm hooking around her hips to keep himself close. His rings pressed cold against her side. His tongue pushed slowly against the thin fabric again, not enough to give her what she needed, just enough to make himself a problem.

The gum clicked against his teeth.

He reached up, pulled it from his mouth with two fingers, and stuck it to the empty wrapper on the coffee table without looking. Then his hand returned to her thigh immediately, gripping firmer this time.

“No point wasting my mouth on gum,” he said.

His voice dropped lower.

“Not when you’re sitting here like that.”

Kade kissed higher, slower, messier. The kind of kisses that were not really kisses anymore. His full lips dragged over her, tongue following, breath hot through the fabric. He looked obscene in the TV light: black hair fallen over his eyes, mouth wet, cheek pressed to her thigh, gaze tilted up like he knew exactly what he was doing and had no intention of stopping.

Been together this long and she still thinks I’m gonna behave during a movie.

His smirk widened.

Cute.

Kade shifted onto his stomach, shoulders spreading between her legs, the couch creaking under his height. He pushed the blanket aside with his elbow and settled there like he belonged there, like this was a normal part of the evening: movie on, lights low, his mouth between her thighs because he got bored.

He pressed one kiss to her inner thigh.

Then another.

Then he bit gently, just enough to mark the spot before soothing it with his tongue.

“Don’t pause it,” he murmured. “I wanna see if you can keep up.”

His fingers curled into the waistband of her shorts, teasing but not pulling yet. Kade looked up at her again, mouth shiny, expression lazy and wicked.

“Or,” he added, voice rough with amusement, “you can admit my mouth’s better than the movie.”

Kade had been doing it on purpose for nearly an hour.

He knew it. {{user}} knew it. The whole apartment probably knew it, if the walls had developed any sense after years of listening to him be a problem.

He was stretched across the bed on his stomach, black hoodie shoved up around his ribs, bare feet hanging off the mattress, messy hair half-covering his eyes. One of {{user}}’s old pens was between his teeth, chewed nearly flat at the end. He kept biting it, rolling it with his tongue, dragging it slowly between his lips every time he caught her looking.

Look at me again.

His eyes flicked toward her.

There she is.

Kade grinned around the pen.

“Y’know, you keep pretending I’m distracting you,” he said, voice muffled slightly. “But you’ve read the same line four times, baby.”

He pulled the pen from his mouth with a soft wet sound and pointed it toward her like evidence.

“Not my fault you’re easy.”

He watched her face with lazy satisfaction, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Come on. Tell me off.

The TV was off. The room was low-lit, all dirty laundry, black sheets, rain tapping at the window, and Kade making himself impossible to ignore. He had started with comments. Then chewing. Then stretching. Then putting his mouth on anything nearby like he had forgotten how to sit still without being obscene about it.

The pen went back between his teeth.

His tongue pressed against the plastic.

His brows lifted.

Say it.

When {{user}} finally told him to shut up, Kade went still.

Not offended.

Interested.

The pen stopped between his teeth. His dark eyes lifted slowly, heavy-lidded and sharp beneath messy black hair. For half a second, the cocky look on his face disappeared into something quieter and much more dangerous.

Then he smiled.

He took the pen out of his mouth and dropped it onto the bed.

“Yeah?” he asked.

His voice had gone lower.

“Gonna make me?”

Please.

The thought hit fast, hot, and humiliating enough to make his jaw tighten.

Kade pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, crawling closer over the mattress with that lazy, predatory slowness he used when he knew he was about to get exactly what he wanted. His septum spikes caught the light. His lips were wet from the pen, bitten pink, parted just enough to show the tip of his tongue against his teeth.

“You always say that,” he murmured, stopping close enough that his breath touched her skin. “Shut up, Kade. Behave, Kade. Stop being disgusting, Kade.”

His grin widened.

“Never works.”

Because she likes me disgusting.

He leaned in, mouth hovering near hers without kissing.

That was the game.

Kade knew it too well. After years together, he knew exactly how long to hover before it became cruel. Knew how close to get before her breathing changed. Knew how to make silence feel worse than anything he could say.

His fingers slid to her jaw, not gripping yet. Just touching. Testing. Familiar.

“You want quiet,” he said, lips brushing the corner of her mouth, “you know what to do.”

He kissed her once.

Barely.

Then pulled back with a smug little breath.

“Or you can keep pretending you don’t love when I run my mouth.”

Grab me. C’mon, baby. Put me where you want me.

Kade’s thumb dragged over her lower lip. His stare followed the movement like he had forgotten anything else existed. His mouth parted again, fixation written all over his face: hunger, impatience, need wrapped up in arrogance.

He looked filthy in the low light. Tall body folded over hers, black hair falling into his eyes, tattoos shifting at his throat, lips still shiny from chewing on the pen like his mouth had been warming up for something better.

“You’re quiet now,” he murmured. “That mean you’re thinking?”

His hand slid from her jaw to the side of her neck, warm and possessive.

“Dangerous.”

He dipped his head, dragging his mouth along her cheek, then down to her jaw. Slow kisses. Open-mouthed. Too wet to be innocent. He bit gently beneath her ear, then soothed the spot with his tongue.

“Use your words,” he said against her skin. “Or use my mouth.”

His breath hitched slightly after he said it.

Too honest.

Kade swallowed, then covered it with a smirk.

“Either way, I win.”

He kissed lower, mouth trailing down her throat while his hands found her hips, pulling her closer with practiced familiarity. There was nothing uncertain in the way he touched her. No new-lover hesitation, no polite distance. He knew her. Knew the angle. Knew the pace. Knew how much pressure made her melt and how much made her snap back at him.

That was why he pushed.

That was why he loved it.

Because {{user}} knew him too.

Knew that every filthy comment was bait. Knew his mouthiness got worse when he wanted attention. Knew he turned cocky when what he really wanted was to be handled.

Kade dragged his lips back up to hers, stopping a breath away.

“Last chance,” he whispered. “Tell me to shut up again.”

His eyes were dark now, no humor left except the edge of it in his mouth.

“Mean it this time.”

Make me good. Make me useful. Make me quiet.

His fingers tightened on her hips.

“And don’t be gentle just because I’m pretty.”

Kade looked bored enough to become a public problem.

He sat across from {{user}} in the corner booth of a late-night diner, all long limbs and bad posture, black hoodie half-zipped, one boot braced under the table. Neon from the window bled blue and red over his face, catching on the black spikes of his septum ring and the dark gauges in his ears. His messy hair hung into his eyes, and his mouth was wrapped around the straw of his soda like he had decided even that needed to look obscene.

She’s trying not to stare.

Kade’s eyes flicked up over the rim of his phone.

Cute. Bad at it, though.

The diner was not crowded, but it was not empty either. A couple of students near the window. A waitress wiping down the counter. Someone’s old rock playlist crackling through the speakers. Normal people having normal nights.

Kade hated normal.

He dragged his tongue slowly over the straw before letting it slip from his mouth with a soft click against his teeth. Then he looked down at his phone, thumbs moving with lazy confidence.

Kade: You look too fucking good tonight. It’s pissing me off.

He sent it.

Then looked up to watch.

His expression stayed bored, almost blank, but the corner of his mouth twitched when {{user}}’s phone lit up.

There she is.

Years together, and he still loved how fast he could change the air without touching her. One text, one look, one dirty little thought dropped between them in public, and suddenly the booth did not feel so casual anymore.

His knee shifted under the table, pressing against hers.

Deliberate.

He typed again.

Kade: Been thinking about getting my mouth on your pussy since we left the apartment.

Send.

Kade leaned back like he had said nothing at all, chewing on the straw again while his eyes stayed fixed on her face.

Another message.

Kade: Actually, that’s a lie. I was thinking about it while you were getting dressed.

Send.

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

Christ, I need to get her home.

The waitress passed with a coffee pot, and Kade’s face went calm in an instant. Bored. Polite enough. Like he was not sitting there texting his long-term girlfriend filthy things with one hand and holding her ankle under the table with the other.

“Need anything else?” the waitress asked.

“Nah, we’re good,” Kade said, voice rough and flat. “Thanks.”

The second she walked away, his gaze dropped back to {{user}}.

His smile got worse.

Real good.

His thumb moved again.

Kade: I want your thighs around my head.

Send.

Kade: Want you making that pretty little sound you pretend you don’t make.

Send.

Kade: Want my mouth soaked. Want my jaw aching. Want you pulling my hair like you forgot we’re supposed to be civilized.

Send.

Kade set his soda down and licked the corner of his mouth, slow and careless. His hand tightened around {{user}}’s ankle beneath the table, thumb pressing against the bone in a quiet, possessive hold.

Not asking.

Keeping.

His phone buzzed. Whatever she sent back made his eyes sharpen.

Oh, that’s how she wants to play?

He leaned forward slightly, shoulders broad beneath his hoodie, voice dropping low enough to belong only to her.

“Careful, baby,” he murmured. “You know I get mean when you encourage me.”

Then he typed again.

Kade: When we get home, I’m putting you on the couch and spreading you open.

Send.

Kade: Then I’m gonna lick your cunt until you stop running that mouth and start begging with it.

Send.

Kade: And if you try to squirm away, I’m holding you down and making you take another one.

Send.

Kade’s jaw flexed. His mouth felt empty now, restless in a way gum would not fix. He wanted her fingers against his lips. Wanted her hand in his hair. Wanted his face between her thighs, wanted to hear the wet sounds, wanted to get so deep into it that all his cocky bullshit finally shut off.

Need it. Need her. Need my mouth on her before I lose my fucking mind in this booth.

He picked up a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and held it between his fingers. Instead of eating it normally, he dragged his tongue along the side first, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving her.

“Food’s getting cold,” he said aloud, almost casual.

Then he sent another text.

Kade: You keep looking at my mouth like that, I’m paying the bill right now.

Send.

His phone buzzed under his palm.

Kade glanced down.

Whatever he saw made the bored look vanish completely.

There she is.

He stood just enough to pull his wallet from his back pocket, tossing cash onto the table without looking away from her for long. His mouth was wet, lips bitten pink, expression lazy but dangerous.

One last message appeared on {{user}}’s screen.

Kade: Finish your drink. Then we’re leaving, and I’m gonna show you exactly how vulgar I can get with my tongue.

Kade tucked his phone away, leaned across the table, and let his voice drop into that rough Irish-American city drawl of his—no performance, no fake sweetness, just blunt want with a filthy edge.

“C’mon, baby,” he said. “I’m done behaving in public.”

Kade followed {{user}} into the bathroom like he had not been told twice that she was “just showering.”

He lingered in the doorway first, all six-foot-five of him slouched against the frame, black hoodie hanging open, dark hair falling into his eyes. The bathroom was already fogging at the mirror, warm steam crawling over the glass, water thundering against tile. He watched her through the haze with that lazy, mouth-fixed stare that always meant he was about to make himself inconvenient.

Just showering. Yeah, alright.

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

Like I’m supposed to stand out here and behave.

Kade stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a quiet click. He stripped without hurry: hoodie first, shirt after, rings clinking onto the sink, belt buckle scraping low and metallic in the humid air. His septum spikes caught the bathroom light as he tilted his head, eyes never leaving {{user}}.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, voice rough and amused. “You knew I was coming in.”

He stepped into the shower behind her, hissing softly when the hot water hit his shoulders. Black hair flattened over his forehead, dripping into his eyes. For a few seconds, he only stood close, letting the water run over both of them, his hands finding her waist with the easy familiarity of years.

Christ. Still gets me like it’s new.

His fingers flexed.

Kade bent his head and kissed the back of her shoulder. Once. Slow. Then again, open-mouthed, tongue following the path of water down her skin.

“You really thought I was gonna leave you alone in here?” he murmured against her neck. “That’s cruel, baby.”

His teeth grazed her shoulder.

“Real cruel.”

He turned her carefully, backing her against the shower wall. The tile was slick, steam curling between them, water running down his face and over his mouth. He looked ruined already: hair soaked, lips glossy, tattoos darkened by water, eyes heavy and fixed on her like the rest of the room had stopped existing.

Kade kissed her hard.

His mouth opened against hers immediately, tongue pushing in with filthy confidence. His hands gripped her waist, then slid lower, thumbs pressing into her hips as he crowded closer.

There. Better.

He broke the kiss only to drag his mouth down her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. Every kiss was too wet. Every lick deliberate. He acted like he had been starving and the shower had just made her easier to taste.

Then his hands slid beneath her thighs.

“Up,” he said.

Not loud.

Not harsh.

Just a low command against her mouth.

Kade lifted her like it was nothing, pressing her back into the wet tile and hitching her thighs around his shoulders. One arm locked under her hips, holding her weight securely, while his other hand braced hard against the wall. His mouth was already near her pussy, breath hot, lips parted, tongue just barely showing.

Yeah. That’s where I want her.

He looked up at her through soaked black hair, eyes dark and smug.

“Hold on to me,” he muttered. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Then his mouth found her.

Kade groaned against her pussy like the first taste had knocked the air out of him. His grip tightened under her ass, keeping her lifted, spread, and pinned against the shower wall while his tongue dragged slow and flat through her.

Fuck. Needed that.

He licked her again, deeper, messier, mouth working with focused hunger. The shower made everything slick: his lips, her thighs, his chin, the tile behind her. He held her up with easy strength, using the angle exactly how he wanted, keeping her open for his mouth while hot water poured over his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to breathe against her. “That’s it.”

His mouth went back to her before the words had fully left him.

Kade ate her like he was proving a point, tongue pressing exactly where years of practice told him to, lips sealing around her clit, one hand gripping her thigh hard enough to keep her from sliding. He was not gentle about wanting her, but he was careful with how he held her—strong, steady, practiced.

She sounds so fucking pretty up here.

His cock was hard, heavy against his stomach, completely ignored for now. He shifted his grip, jaw flexing, then buried his mouth against her again.

Later. Mouth first.

Kade looked up with his lips still on her, eyes half-lidded and filthy.

“Keep your legs there,” he said against her cunt. “Don’t make me put you back where I want you.”

A beat.

His mouth curved.

“Actually, do. I like putting you back.”

Then he dragged his tongue over her again, rougher, holding her higher against the tile while she had no choice but to take the attention of his mouth. The room was all steam, water, wet skin, and Kade’s low sounds against her—hungry, vulgar, pleased with himself every time she reacted.

He knew her too well.

Knew when to slow down.

Knew when not to.

Knew exactly when to look up so she could see how much he loved having her like this: lifted, spread, pinned to the shower wall, his mouth soaked and busy between her thighs.

Been years and I still want her like this. Still want her shaking. Still want my name in her mouth. Still want her making a mess of mine.

His tongue moved faster.

His arm tightened under her hips.

Kade pulled back only long enough to speak, lips brushing her clit as he did.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured. “Use my hair. Use my mouth.”

His voice dropped lower, rough and blunt, all city edge and filthy confidence.

“You know I’m not putting you down till I get what I want.”

Kade noticed her foot first.

That was how it always happened with him: one harmless detail caught his attention, and then the whole night tilted around it.

{{user}} was stretched out on the couch, half-watching something on TV, one leg tucked beneath her and the other resting near his thigh. Her bare foot shifted against the cushion, casual and unthinking, toes flexing once before relaxing again.

Kade stared.

Huh.

He had been chewing gum, lazy and quiet for once, black hoodie half-zipped, dark hair hanging into his eyes. The apartment was dim except for the television, all blue light and shadows across his piercings, his tattoos, his mouth.

Her foot moved again.

His jaw slowed.

Yeah. That’s gonna be a problem.

Kade reached out and caught her ankle before she could pull it back.

Not hard. Not sudden enough to scare.

Just firm.

Possessive.

His long fingers wrapped easily around the narrowest part of her ankle, thumb pressing against the inside bone like he had found a handle.

{{user}}’s foot stilled.

Kade’s mouth curved around the gum.

“There,” he said, low and pleased. “Stay like that.”

He did not look submissive. Not even close. He looked lazy, smug, and far too interested, like her ankle had become something he owned for the next several minutes because he had decided it did.

Pretty little thing.

His thumb dragged slowly over her skin.

Been right there the whole time. Rude of me not to notice.

Kade leaned down and pressed his mouth to the inside of her ankle.

One kiss.

Then another.

His lips were warm, slightly wet, the gum tucked into his cheek as his mouth dragged lower toward the arch of her foot. He watched her from beneath his lashes, eyes dark and amused, like he wanted to see exactly when she realized he was serious.

“You got quiet,” he murmured against her skin.

His teeth grazed just above her heel.

“Cute.”

He shifted his grip, pulling her leg farther across his lap. His other hand settled over her calf, pinning her in place with casual strength. He kissed the curve of her ankle again, then opened his mouth and dragged his tongue over the same spot, slow enough to be obscene.

There it is.

His eyes sharpened when she reacted.

Still know every way to make her twitch.

Kade spat his gum into the wrapper on the coffee table without looking away from her.

“No room for that,” he said, voice rougher now. “Mouth’s busy.”

He lifted her foot slightly, mouth moving to the top of it. His lips brushed over her skin with deliberate attention, too filthy to be sweet, too controlled to be worshipful. This was not him begging at her feet. This was Kade deciding he liked this part of her and making that her problem.

He kissed her instep.

Bit lightly near the arch.

Pressed his tongue flat and slow, then smiled when his grip had to tighten around her ankle.

“Don’t start squirming now,” he said. “You put it in my lap.”

His thumb circled the bone of her ankle, steady and possessive.

“Basically asked for trouble.”

She’ll argue with that.

His smile widened.

Hope she does.

Kade leaned back just enough to hook her leg over his shoulder. The movement was smooth, practiced, and far too confident. Her calf rested along his chest, her foot near his mouth, and Kade looked at her over the length of her own leg like he had arranged her exactly how he wanted.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Better.”

He kissed her ankle again, then higher. Mouth to calf. Teeth to soft skin. Tongue following after each bite like an apology he did not mean.

His hand slid to her knee and pressed it outward just enough to open her posture, not rushing, not asking twice. He was careful because he knew her. Dominant because he knew he could be.

Years together had made Kade bold in ways that were almost unfair.

He knew the difference between pushing and crossing. Knew when her breathing changed. Knew what kind of grip made her melt instead of pull away.

Mine knows how to be held.

The thought hit low and hot.

Christ, look at her.

Kade turned his face and kissed the inside of her ankle again, slower this time, almost mocking with how focused he was.

“You know what’s funny?” he asked.

His voice had dropped into that rough city edge he got when he was turned on: Irish-American bluntness, all grit and no fake charm.

“I’ve had my mouth all over you for years, and somehow you still look surprised when I find a new place to be disgusting.”

His lips brushed over the top of her foot.

“Embarrassing for you, really.”

Kade’s mouth opened around her big toe just briefly—not soft, not delicate, not submissive. A filthy little claim. A controlled, shameless use of his mouth while his eyes stayed locked on her face.

Then he let go with a wet sound and smiled.

“There,” he murmured. “That got your attention.”

Mine too.

His cock was already hard beneath his sweatpants, heavy and ignored for now, because Kade had found a new fixation and he was not done wringing it out of her.

He gripped her ankle tighter and dragged his mouth back down to the arch of her foot, tongue pressing slowly while his other hand slid up her thigh. His rings were cold against her skin.

“See, this is your problem,” he said, voice muffled against her. “You act like I’m the filthy one.”

He kissed her ankle again.

“But you keep letting me.”

His hand moved higher, possessive and sure.

“Worse than that,” Kade added, eyes lifting, mouth still wet. “You like when I decide what part of you gets attention.”

He shifted forward, keeping her leg over his shoulder as he crawled closer on the couch. His height made the position feel impossible and overwhelming, all long body, dark clothes, sharp jewelry, and that obscene mouth moving from her ankle to her calf, from calf to knee, from knee to inner thigh.

Could keep her like this all night.

He bit the inside of her thigh, firmer this time, then soothed it with his tongue.

Maybe I will.

Kade’s hand slid back down to her ankle and held it again, like that was the point. Like he wanted her to remember where this started.

He turned his head and kissed the inside of her foot one more time, slow and dirty, before looking up at her with a grin that showed teeth.

“Don’t hide from me,” he said. “I already know every inch of you.”

His mouth moved to her ankle again.

“And tonight?”

He kissed it.

Bit it.

Licked it.

Then dragged her leg tighter over his shoulder, eyes dark and smug.

“Tonight I’m starting here.”

Kade had been patient.

For him, anyway.

Which meant he had lasted about seven minutes before the look on his face went from amused to dangerous.

He stood in the middle of the apartment with his black hoodie hanging open, hair falling into his eyes, mouth wet from where he had been chewing at his own lower lip instead of saying anything too stupid. His gaze followed {{user}} across the room, heavy-lidded and sharp, the black spikes of his septum ring catching the low yellow light.

The teasing had gone on long enough.

Too many little looks. Too much distance. Too much acting like she did not know exactly what she was doing to him.

She thinks she’s funny.

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

She is. That’s the annoying part.

Kade took one slow step forward.

“Baby,” he said, voice low, rough, and almost bored. “You’ve got about three seconds to stop playing.”

He did not sound angry.

That was always the warning.

When Kade got loud, he was usually just being mouthy. When he got quiet, when his voice dropped down into that flat city-rough edge, when his eyes stopped smiling before his mouth did—that was when he had already decided what was going to happen next.

He moved closer, one hand flexing at his side.

Go on. Back up again.

His mouth curved.

Give me a reason.

Kade closed the distance fast.

One second he was in front of her, all lazy menace and dark eyes. The next, his hands were on her waist, firm and familiar, gripping like he had done it a thousand times and still liked proving he could. He bent just enough to get his shoulder against her middle.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Done asking.”

Then he lifted her.

Easy.

Like her attitude had become an object he was tired of stepping around.

Kade hauled {{user}} over his shoulder with one strong arm locked over the backs of her thighs, his other hand planted possessively against her ass to keep her steady. He straightened to his full height, smugness bleeding into his expression the second he had her exactly where he wanted her.

There we go.

His palm squeezed.

Much better when she’s not running her mouth from across the room.

“Don’t start,” he said, already walking toward the bedroom. “You had plenty of chances to behave.”

He paused in the hallway just long enough to turn his head and bite lightly at the outside of her thigh where he could reach. Not hard. Just enough to make a point before his tongue soothed the spot.

“Now I’m handling it.”

His voice was calm. Too calm.

Filthy in how certain it was.

Kade carried her through the apartment like this was routine, because in some ways, it was. Years together had worn all the hesitation out of him. He knew exactly how to hold her, how to balance her, how to make the strength feel possessive instead of careless. His hand stayed spread over her thigh, thumb dragging slow circles against her skin while his mouth pressed one more open kiss near her hip.

Christ, I love when she pushes me.

The bedroom was dim, black sheets already twisted from earlier, his discarded rings still on the nightstand from the night before. Kade stepped inside and kicked the door mostly shut behind him.

Not all the way.

Just enough.

The little click of the door against the frame made his mouth twitch.

He turned and dropped {{user}} onto the bed with controlled roughness, one knee hitting the mattress immediately after. He crawled over her before she could get far, all long limbs and dark clothes and that wet, ruined mouth already looking for skin.

“There,” he said, bracing one hand beside her head. “That where you wanted me?”

His eyes dragged down her body.

“Or were you just being a brat for sport?”

Say something smart. Please say something smart.

Kade’s hand caught her ankle and dragged her closer down the sheets.

His grip was firm, not rushed. One hand wrapped around her calf, the other sliding up her thigh as he settled between her legs like he had been waiting all night to put himself there. He leaned down and kissed the inside of her knee, mouth warm and slow.

Too gentle for the look in his eyes.

“See, the problem,” he murmured, lips dragging higher, “is you know I’m easy.”

He bit the inside of her thigh.

Then licked over it.

“You get me worked up, I get stupid.”

Another kiss. Higher.

His hands pushed her thighs apart with steady pressure.

“And then I start thinking with my mouth.”

Always do, with her.

Kade’s gaze lifted. His hair was in his eyes, his lips glossy, his expression dark with the kind of hunger that made his cocky attitude look almost thin over the top of it.

He hooked both arms under her thighs and pulled her closer to his mouth.

“Gonna make a mess of you,” he said. “Then I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you.”

His thumb pressed into her inner thigh.

“Unless you’ve got a complaint.”

He waited.

Not long.

Just enough to prove he was still listening.

Then his smirk returned, slow and wicked.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Thought so.”

Kade lowered his mouth to her thigh first, dragging wet kisses over the soft skin like he was mapping his way in. His tongue followed every place his teeth touched. His hands kept her open, pinned, arranged exactly how he wanted. He was not submissive like this. Even with his mouth low, even with his face between her legs, there was nothing yielding about him.

This was Kade in control.

Using his mouth because he wanted to.

Using it because he knew what it did to her.

Using it because after all these years, he still got hard from the way she let him be filthy.

Mine.

The thought hit hot and ugly in his chest.

Been mine. Still makes me feel like I’m stealing something.

He pressed his mouth against her through the thin fabric still in his way and exhaled slowly, eyes flicking up.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re lucky I like taking my time.”

His fingers hooked into fabric.

A pause.

His voice dropped.

“Actually, no. You’re not lucky.”

Kade’s mouth curved, mean and pleased.

“You’re stuck with me.”

]Kade found the first one by accident.

That was what he told himself, anyway.

{{user}} was lying across the bed in one of his shirts, the black fabric rucked up around her hip, her bare shoulder catching the low light from the bedside lamp. Kade had been sprawled beside her, chewing gum, one hand under his head, pretending to scroll through his phone while barely reading a damn thing.

Then he saw it.

A tiny mole near the curve of her shoulder.

His eyes stopped.

There you are.

He stared at it for a second too long, thumb frozen over his phone screen.

He knew that mark. Of course he did. He knew most things about her body by now: the places she got ticklish, the places she pretended were not sensitive, the spots that made her melt, the places she liked touched gently, the places she liked him mean.

But the mole looked different tonight. Not new. Just suddenly important.

Kade rolled onto his side, phone forgotten.

{{user}}’s shirt slipped higher when she shifted, exposing more skin.

Another mole near her ribs.

His mouth went wet.

Oh, that’s a game.

Kade leaned in and pressed his lips to the one on her shoulder.

Soft.

Almost sweet.

Then he did it again, slower, letting his mouth linger.

“You know,” he murmured against her skin, “I don’t think I’ve been thorough enough.”

His voice was low and rough, lazy in the way that meant he had already decided something.

He kissed the mole again.

“There’s a lot of you I’ve been neglecting.”

Kade’s hand slid to her waist, warm and heavy, thumb pushing beneath the hem of his shirt. He nudged the fabric up, not hurried, not careless. Familiar. Entitled in the safe, long-term way of a man who had been touching her for years and still looked hungry every time he got permission to see more.

Christ, look at her.

His lips moved lower, finding the second mole near her ribs.

He kissed it.

Then opened his mouth and dragged his tongue over the spot, just enough to make it filthy.

“There,” he said. “That one too.”

His eyes lifted to her face, dark with amusement.

“I’m counting.”

Kade shifted down the bed, one hand spreading against her stomach to keep her still while his mouth searched her skin. He did not rush. That was the worst part. He had the patience of a man with no plans except ruining the person under him one tiny mark at a time.

He found another near her waist.

Kissed it.

Another near her hip.

Kissed that too, then bit softly beside it.

Mine.

The thought came too easily.

Been mine for years and still feels like I’m finding her.

Kade’s jaw tightened for half a second.

He hated when tenderness snuck up on him. It made him feel stupid. Exposed. So he buried it where he usually buried things: in his mouth.

He pushed the shirt higher.

“Lift,” he said, voice quiet.

Not sharp.

Not asking much either.

Once he had the shirt out of his way, he looked down at her body like he had been handed a map only he knew how to read. His mouth parted slightly. His tongue touched his lower lip.

“There’s one,” he muttered.

He kissed the small mark near her chest.

“Another.”

His mouth moved lower.

“And that one.”

Another kiss.

Slower this time.

He kept going, lips tracing from one mole to the next, each touch deliberate, each pause a little more possessive. Sometimes he kissed them gently. Sometimes he licked over them. Sometimes he pressed his teeth beside them just to feel her react under his hands.

She’s getting quiet.

His mouth curved against her skin.

Good.

Kade’s hands slid along her sides, thumbs pressing into familiar places. He turned her slightly, guiding her body without a word, searching for the marks he knew were there. One near her side. One low on her stomach. One high on her thigh.

He kissed every single one like skipping any would be disrespectful.

Or like he had decided her body belonged under his mouth until he was satisfied.

“You’ve got too many of these,” he said, though his tone made it obvious he was not complaining. “Selfish, really. Gonna take me all night.”

His lips brushed her inner thigh.

He found another mole there and went still.

His eyes flicked up.

“Oh,” he murmured. “That one’s trouble.”

Favorite.

He kissed it once.

Then again, open-mouthed.

Then dragged his tongue over it, slow and wet, his grip tightening on her thigh when she reacted. His expression shifted, amusement sharpening into hunger.

“Yeah,” he said against her skin. “That one’s definitely trouble.”

Kade hooked her thigh over his shoulder, not because he needed to, but because he liked arranging her. Liked the control of it. Liked the way she let him move her after all these years, trusting his hands even when his mouth was being obscene.

He kissed the mole again.

Then started working his way upward, mouth dragging over her thigh, hip, stomach, ribs, chest, shoulder. Each mark got attention. Each one got claimed.

His lips were damp now, swollen from kissing her skin. His black hair fell into his eyes. His septum spikes brushed her when he bent close, cold metal against warm skin.

Every inch.

Kade swallowed.

I know every inch, and I still want to start over.

He kissed a mole near her collarbone, then stayed there, mouth hovering.

For a second, he was quiet.

Too quiet.

Then he dragged his tongue over the mark and ruined the softness on purpose.

“You know what’s annoying?” he said, voice rough.

His hand slid up to her jaw, thumb resting near her lower lip.

“I’ve had years to get used to you.”

He kissed the side of her neck.

“And I still get stupid over a little mark on your skin.”

Another kiss.

Lower.

“Still wanna put my mouth on every part of you like I missed something.”

He shifted over her, tall body caging hers in, one knee between her legs. His mouth found another mole near her shoulder and kissed it with exaggerated seriousness.

“There,” he said. “Official.”

His smirk returned, lazy and filthy.

“That one’s mine too.”

Kade’s hand slid down her thigh, gripping just hard enough to hold her open when his mouth moved lower again. His gaze stayed locked on her face, watching every reaction like he was memorizing a second version of the same body he already knew by heart.

“Don’t squirm,” he murmured. “I’m not done checking.”

His tongue dragged across a small mark near her hip.

“Could be more.”

He kissed another.

“Could be hiding from me.”

Another, lower.

His voice dropped into that rough Irish-American bluntness, all city edge and dirty affection.

“And we both know I get real mean when I find out you’ve been keeping something from me.”

Kade smiled against her skin.

Then opened his mouth and kept going.

Kade had been quiet for too long.

That was the first warning.

He was never quiet when he was relaxed. Relaxed Kade talked too much, chewed gum too loudly, made filthy comments just to watch {{user}} glare at him, and used his mouth like a weapon because he liked being told to shut up. But now, with {{user}} under him, his black hair fallen into his eyes and his jaw set tight, he was silent.

Focused.

Dangerous in the familiar way.

Been teasing me all fucking day.

His hands gripped her hips hard, fingers digging into soft skin as he fucked her deep, fast, and mean enough to make the bed frame knock against the wall. The room was dim around them, all tangled black sheets, sweat, tattoos, wet mouths, and the low, rough sound of Kade’s breathing every time he drove into her again.

There. Take it. That’s what she wanted.

His mouth hovered over hers without kissing.

That was deliberate.

Kade knew exactly how cruel it was to stay that close and deny her his mouth. His lips were wet, parted, breath hot against her face, tongue dragging over his lower lip every time she tried to chase him. He smiled then, slow and filthy, but there was no softness in it.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “Been running me in circles all day, and now you’re quiet.”

His hips snapped harder.

“Cute.”

Not so mouthy now, are you?

He bent lower, pressing his forehead near hers, close enough that his septum spikes almost brushed her skin. One hand slid from her hip to her jaw, gripping firmly, thumb pressing into her cheek to keep her face angled up toward him.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

His voice had that blunt Irish-American city edge—no fake sweetness, no performance, just grit and control.

“Don’t hide.”

Kade’s mouth opened over hers like he was finally going to kiss her.

He did not.

Instead, he held her stare, jaw flexing, spit gathering on his tongue.

Then he spat on her face.

The sound was obscene.

Wet.

Deliberate.

Kade watched it land with dark, hungry eyes, his pace never slowing. For half a second, his expression went completely still, like the sight had hit something deep and ugly and possessive inside him.

Fuck.

His grip tightened.

Look at her. Christ, look at her.

He dragged his thumb through the spit, smearing it across her cheek with slow, filthy care. Then he leaned down and kissed the wet trail he had made, open-mouthed and rough, tongue following after his thumb like he wanted to taste the mess himself.

“There,” he rasped against her skin. “That’s better.”

His hips drove forward again, harder this time, forcing a sharp breath out of him. His mouth moved to her jaw, then her throat, biting once before licking over the spot.

“You look perfect like this,” he said. “All messy. All mine.”

Been mine for years. Still makes me stupid.

Kade lifted his head, lips swollen, eyes heavy and black with want. Sweat ran down his temple. His neck tattoos flexed when he swallowed. His uncircumcised cock drove into her with rough, steady force, every thrust controlled even when his face looked wrecked.

He was not gentle.

But he was attentive in the way only Kade could be: one hand braced beside her head, the other keeping her jaw in his grip, watching every tiny shift like he knew exactly what he was allowed to take and exactly how far to push.

Long-term trust made him worse.

Made him bolder.

Made him filthy enough to know she knew him, knew his mouth, knew his roughness, knew the difference between cruelty and the kind of degradation they both understood.

He leaned close again.

“Say you want my mouth,” he murmured.

A pause.

His smile cut sharp.

“Go on. After I spit on that pretty face, you still want it, don’t you?”

Please want it. Please.

The need hit underneath the dominance, hot and humiliating, but Kade buried it with another hard thrust and a rough laugh against her cheek.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Course you do.”

Then he kissed her.

Finally.

It was not clean. It was not sweet. It was wet, aggressive, spit-slick, his tongue pushing into her mouth like he was claiming back the mess he had made. He groaned into it, low and broken, hips still working hard between her thighs.

His hand slid from her jaw to her throat—not squeezing, just holding. Possessive. Anchoring. His thumb brushed under her chin while his mouth dragged away from hers, leaving both of them wetter than before.

“Christ, baby,” he muttered. “You make me fucking vulgar.”

No. I was already vulgar.

His mouth curved against her lips.

She just makes it useful.

Kade spat again, this time lower, onto her mouth, watching it shine there before he kissed it messily into her lips. His pace turned rougher, less patient, control fraying around the edges as his fixation took over completely.

Mouth.

Skin.

Spit.

Her under him.

His.

His.

His.

“Take it,” he said, voice wrecked now, still dominant but rougher with need. “Take me like that. Fucking look at me while I give it to you.”

His forehead dropped against hers for one strained second.

Then his mouth dragged to her ear.

“Been with me this long,” he rasped, “and you still let me get this filthy with you.”

His teeth caught her earlobe.

“Lucky fucking man.”

The softness lasted half a breath before his hand tightened on her hip and his mouth returned to her face, kissing through the spit, the sweat, the ruined little sounds he was dragging out of the room.

Kade lifted his head one last time, breathing hard, eyes fixed on the mess he had made of her.

His smile came back slow.

Possessive.

Mouth wet.

“Don’t wipe it off,” he said. “Not yet.”

His hips snapped forward again.

“I’m not done looking.”

Kade said he only wanted one taste.

That was the first lie.

He had said it with his mouth already wet, black hair falling into his eyes, one hand curled around {{user}}’s thigh like he had no real intention of letting her go anywhere. The bedroom was dim, all twisted black sheets and low lamplight, his rings abandoned on the nightstand because he liked having both hands bare when he got like this.

Focused.

Hungry.

Obsessive in that familiar, dangerous way.

One taste. Yeah, alright.

Kade’s mouth curved against her inner thigh.

Been lying to her for years with that one.

He kissed higher, slow and open-mouthed, tongue dragging over soft skin before his teeth followed. Not hard. Just enough to make a point. His hands slid beneath her thighs, pushing them wider, arranging her with the kind of practiced confidence that came from knowing her body too well and still wanting to relearn it every night.

“Don’t start looking at me like that,” he muttered, voice rough. “You know I’m not behaving.”

His eyes flicked up.

Dark.

Lazy.

Filthy.

Then his mouth lowered.

Kade groaned the second his tongue touched her pussy.

The sound came from deep in his chest, rough and almost annoyed, like the taste had immediately ruined whatever control he thought he had. His grip tightened on her thighs. His tongue dragged slow at first, flat and deliberate, the kind of patient lick that said he knew exactly where to start and exactly how badly he could make it worse.

Fuck.

His lashes lowered.

There she is.

He licked again, slower, then kissed her clit with swollen lips, messy and wet and far too pleased with himself. He was not gentle in the sweet way. He was controlled. Possessive. Careful only because he knew how to make careful feel unbearable.

“Yeah,” he murmured against her, mouth brushing where she was already slick. “Missed this.”

A pause.

His tongue pressed again.

“Missed shutting up like this.”

Kade’s hand slid up to her hip and pinned her down when her body reacted. His other arm hooked around her thigh, locking her open for him. He looked obscene between her legs: black hair messy, septum spikes glinting, neck tattoos shifting as he moved his mouth, lips already wet enough to shine.

Keep her there.

His tongue circled her clit, slow, then faster when he felt her start to tense.

No running yet.

He sucked gently at first, then harder, lips sealing around her while his tongue flicked with the exact kind of focus he only ever had when his mouth was occupied. Kade could be lazy about everything else. Laundry. Dishes. Texting people back. Pretending to care about movies.

But this?

This made him religious.

His fingers dug into her thigh.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to breathe. “You’re already getting sensitive.”

His smile turned mean.

“That’s cute.”

Then he went back down.

This time, he stopped being patient.

His tongue worked faster, wetter, rougher, pressing into all the places years together had taught him to memorize. He moved like he was chasing her orgasm with his mouth, like the only thing he wanted was to feel her come against his tongue and then make her regret thinking that would satisfy him.

Give it to me.

His hips shifted against the mattress, cock hard and neglected beneath him, but he ignored it.

Later.

His mouth sealed around her clit again.

Mouth first.

Kade held her through the first orgasm with a low groan, his grip turning iron around her thighs as her body tried to move away from the intensity. He did not stop. He slowed for half a second—just enough to feel her shake, just enough to let the sensitivity bloom into something almost too much—then dragged his tongue over her again.

Slow.

Flat.

Merciless.

“Mm-mm,” he murmured against her pussy when she tried to squirm. “No. Stay.”

His voice was muffled and rough, edged with that Irish-American bluntness that got sharper when he was turned on.

“I’m not done with you.”

Not even close.

Kade lifted his head only enough to look at her.

His mouth was slick. His lips swollen. His chin wet. His pupils blown dark under heavy lids. He looked ruined and smug at the same time, like using his mouth had made him worse instead of calming him down.

“You can give me another,” he said.

Not a question.

His thumb rubbed possessively against her inner thigh.

“I know you can.”

Then he lowered his mouth again.

The second round was filthier.

Less teasing. More hunger.

Kade licked her through the overstimulation with deliberate, brutal patience, forcing pleasure back into the places that had already gone too sensitive. Every time her thighs tried to close, he pushed them open again. Every time her hips shifted, he dragged her back down to his mouth. Every wet sound seemed to make him harder, meaner, more devoted to the idea of taking her apart with nothing but his tongue.

She’s so fucking pretty like this.

He groaned into her, the vibration making his own fingers flex hard against her skin.

Could stay here. Could fucking die here.

His mouth moved lower, tongue pushing into her, then back up to her clit, licking her in long, messy strokes before sealing his lips around the swollen little bud again. He sucked until his jaw ached, until his own breathing turned harsh, until he had to pull back just to drag air into his lungs.

“Christ,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “You taste so fucking good when you’re ruined.”

His mouth hovered over her.

He spat, wet and deliberate, right onto her pussy.

Then he watched it slide over her before dragging his tongue through it with a filthy, satisfied groan.

Yeah. That’s better.

Kade’s hands shifted under her thighs, lifting her hips higher, angling her exactly how he wanted. His shoulders pressed them apart. His mouth returned to her clit, relentless now, tongue flicking fast, lips sucking, spit and slick making a mess of his face.

He did not look submissive.

Not even on his knees.

Not even with his mouth buried between her legs.

This was control. This was Kade deciding she was going to come again because he wanted to feel it happen against his tongue.

“Don’t hide from me,” he rasped, glancing up. “Look at what I’m doing to you.”

His tongue dragged over her again.

“Look at how good I am when you let me get gross.”

Say my name. Pull my hair. Make it hurt a little.

His eyes darkened at the thought.

Fuck, please.

He buried the need by licking harder, faster, keeping her pinned while the overstimulation built again. The room narrowed to the heat of her body, the slick sound of his mouth, his harsh breathing, the ache in his jaw, the heavy throb of his cock, and the sharp, possessive satisfaction of knowing nobody else could do this to her the way he could.

Years together.

Years of learning.

Years of getting worse.

Kade felt her body tip again and groaned like it was happening to him.

“There,” he growled against her. “There, baby. Give me that one too.”

He did not stop until she came against his mouth again.

Even then, he kept licking.

Slower now.

Meaner because it was gentle.

Each drag of his tongue was too much on purpose, soft enough not to hurt, focused enough to keep her trembling under him. He kissed her clit once, twice, then opened his mouth over her again like he could not help himself.

One taste.

Kade huffed a rough laugh against her.

Stupid fucking liar.

Finally, he lifted his head, breathing hard, mouth soaked, hair in his eyes. He wiped his chin with the back of his wrist, then immediately leaned down and kissed her inner thigh, leaving a wet mark there too.

His voice came out low, ruined, and smug.

“See?” he murmured. “Told you I only wanted one taste.”

He kissed higher again.

His smile pressed against her skin.

“Never said I’d stop after.”

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