C.A.K.E novel Chapter 2

THE STONES

“Home sweet home, my dear.”

Elliott opens the door of their four-bedroom condo and ushers Arden over the threshold. As soon as her heels touch the reclaimed hardwood floor, the motion sensor lights are triggered. The open floor plan of the main living area is illuminated within seconds. She sits her clutch on the foyer table and Eli removes his jacket from her shoulders.

“Such a gentleman.” Smiling, she slips out of her shoes.

“Only for you.” He hooks his arm around her middle and scoops her up. “I can be quite rough at times.”

She squeals and pretends to struggle against him. Elliott carries her to the master bedroom and falls backward onto the California king bed with her.

She sits up and swings her leg over his body so that her thighs are hugging his torso. Her dress glides up as his hands chase the thin material up her thighs, before cupping her round bottom.

Moonlight rains down from the skylight above the bed, casting a sapphire glow over them. Arden stares down at him and runs her fingers through his dusky blonde curls. Still grasping a handful of his hair, she bends and whispers in his ear.

“Rough little boys need to be punished for their actions.” She tugs his locks. “Now what should I do with you?”

“I don't know.” He sighs and turns his head to face her. “But I think it should hurt.”

She smiles, devilment in her eyes. “Can do.”

Arden teases him, letting her lips get just within reach of his before pulling back. Elliott tightens his grip on her, making her soft curves press into him.

Eli breaks their kiss to trace slow circles on her shoulder with his tongue. She whimpers, as he bites and sucks her skin. His hand finds the zipper on the side of her dress and tugs it down.

Arden pulls the garment over her head, ruffling her hair. She leans down, seeking his lips again. But his touch on her stomach keeps her upright.

“What is it?”

“Just let me look at you for a second.” Clad in nothing but her nude strapless bra and matching seamless underwear, she's a disheveled goddess.

She smooths her thumb over the stubble of his forming beard, then tugs at his bottom lip. “You know that's not all you're allowed to do.”

Elliott pulls her down into another kiss.

Arden yanks the cashmere blend shirt over his head. She trails soft kisses down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. She undoes the button and zipper with an urgency that isn't easy to derail. But Eli manages.

“Baby, wait.” He catches her hands.

“What?” She lifts her head, brows furrowed.

“We both have early mornings ahead of us. And you know, we don't do quickies.”

Arden nods, continuing to undress him. He flips her over onto her back and holds her down by her wrists.

“I have a meeting at eight. And you need to be at the bakery by four.”

“You're just stating facts right now. What's the problem?”

“We should get some rest.”

“It will still be late in twenty minutes.” She blows a lock of hair out of her face and wraps her legs around his waist. “The only difference is we'll both be a whole lot happier.”

He gives her a tender kiss then scoots to the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. Arden turns on the bedside lamp and pulls him back down onto the sheets. Straddling him, she grabs his chin and makes him look up at her.

“Hi. Elliott? Maybe, we haven't met.” She smirks and gestures to herself. “I'm Arden, your wife. And I'm trying to sleep with you.”

“I'll make it up to you tomorrow.” He kisses her neck, then picks her up and lays her on top of the duvet. “I promise.”

She unzips her gray structured dress to reveal a pair of black lace undies. No bra. Why bother? Her breasts were petite handfuls that defied gravity. The leather wrinkles under their weight as she climbs on top of him.

Casper's clothes are torn away from his body without much help from him. Ripping fabric is a turn-on for him. But right now this is just rough. And not in a good way. He shuffles out of his boxer briefs before she shreds them as well.

He pulls her to him for a kiss. Karma presses her mouth to his like she's trying to devour him, then shoves him backward onto the couch again. She strokes his shaft and teases the tip with her lips, as she warms herself up. Casper would jump in to help. But he's sure his assistance would be seen as more of a hindrance.

Once he's hard enough to impale a brick wall she mounts him. He groans and winces as she grinds on top of him. He grabs her ass and cups her breast in his other hand. Karma knocks his hand from her chest and begins to rub her own nipples.

Casper watches her claim his manhood over and over in an aggressive vice grip. She's getting close. He concentrates, trying to chase his own nirvana. If he doesn't cum when she does, it's going to be a blue-balls kind of night.

She ascends the staircase to heaven just as he's approaching the first step. Her body bucks hard against his, frozen momentarily as sharp gasps escape her. She slowly rides him, while she enjoys the last waves of her climax. When her breathing returns to normal, she slides off him.

She gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Mmm . . . that was so damn good.”

Karma leaves Casper and his half-limp dick to fend for themselves on the sofa and saunters into their bedroom. He pulls the decorative throw from the opposite arm of the couch and covers his lower half.

Lately, it feels like she's doing the deed just to get it over with. It's all very mechanical and ordered, like a job. He always gets the impression she'd rather be doing anything else .... or anyone else.

He brushes off his thoughts, not in the mood for any deep analysis. But the tension in his crotch can't be ignored. He enlists the help of his best friend as a teenager--his left hand. As he and his palm get reacquainted, Arden wanders into his mind.

He imagines his fingers skimming over her smooth skin. Her full breasts pressed against his chest and his hands on her ass as he sinks into her. Casper can almost feel her lips on his, her legs wrapped around his back, and her muffled moans against his neck.

A few strokes later, he's made the blanket unfit for anything but the trash can. Slipping back into his boxers, he discards the cover in the garbage bin in the attached garage and washes up in the half bath.

He heads for the bar in the living room and pours himself a glass of Jack. He sips the stiff drink and runs a hand over his hair. Her name bounces off the walls of his mind.

“Arden,” he whispers, thinking of doing much more than just looking.