Novel Storm
Making His Cat Wants More
Don’t forget to read yesterday’s chapter, it has been corrected. Thank you for your patience.
***** Cathleen’s fingers clawed at the cool marble on the counter, her knuckles whitening with the grip. Her breath came out in ragged pants, betraying the tumultuous storm raging within her. She was trembling, every nerve ending screaming for release-a release only Xavier could grant. His touch-those hands that had charted every inch of her skin-knew precisely how to shatter her composure and make her unravel. “Damn it,” she cursed under her breath, a venomous whisper that spoke volumes of her internal conflict. This dalliance with Xavier was spiraling out of control, threatening the ordered life she’d so meticulously built. Cathleen Devereaux, a celebrity lawyer, unshakable and formidable-now unsteady, craving the very thing that was undoing her. She despised the transformation-the way she’d become pliant under his command. It was antithetical to her nature; she wasn’t designed to be anyone’s submissive. Yet, since that first surrender, her defiance has been slowly eroding, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. A surge of self-loathing washed over her as she recalled the countless encounters, each more intense than the last. The way she craved his dominance and the dark desires he awakened in her-it was all-consuming. And despite the hatred she harbored for what they’d become, there remained an insatiable yearning that drew her back to him time and again. “Fuck Xavier,” she muttered, the words tasting like poison on her tongue. But even as she spoke them, she knew they were laced with a twisted sort of longing. A longing she couldn’t deny, one that throbbed between her thighs, urging her towards the forbidden. The rational part of her screamed to flee, to retreat to the safety of her own home. But the raw, primal part-that unchecked hunger-propelled her feet up the stairs, step by determined step, toward the lion’s den where Xavier waited. Every creak of the wooden floorboards under her weight felt like a countdown to her capitulation. Yet, she moved forward, a moth drawn to a flame, knowing full well the searing blaze that awaited her. She reached the top of the stairs, each beat of her heart reverberating through her body, a relentless drum urging her onward. “Xavier,” she breathed out, a mix of desire and dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. She was crossing a line, but there was no turning back now-not when every fiber of her being ached for his touch, for the sweet torment he delivered without remorse. As she stood outside his door, her hand hesitated on the knob, the chill of the metal seeping into her palm. With a fortitude that belied her inner turmoil, Cathleen steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation, for the tempestuous dance of flesh and wills that would soon unfold. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered into the silence, a silent prayer for strength or perhaps absolution. Then, with a resolve that was as much resignation as it was determination, she turned the handle and stepped into the lion’s den. The door creaked open, a prelude to the sin she was about to commit. The sound of water cascading from the showerhead was a siren call, wrapping around Cathleen’s resolve and pulling it apart thread by thread. She shed her clothes without ceremony, each piece hitting the floor like a discarded promise. Barefoot and bare-hearted, she stepped into the steam, the heat enveloping her skin, an embrace from the devil himself. Xavier’s form was a shadow through the mist, but as Cathleen wrapped her hands around his waist, hugging him from behind, his solid presence was undeniable. “Can’t stay away, can you?” His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against her cheek. “Shut up,” she snapped back, though her lips found the nape of his neck, betraying her sharp words with a gentle kiss. He turned, and their lips clashed in a collision of need and resentment. He moved, asserting control, pushing her until her back met the cool glass. Xavier lifted her with ease, a testament to his power, his dominance over her body. Down she went, onto his waiting mouth, his tongue a relentless force that sent her spiraling into ecstasy. Cathleen’s moans were primal, filling the room, mingling with the sound of the relentless water. “Please,” she gasped, lost in the waves of pleasure he commanded with every flick, every suck. Her nails dug into his shoulders, craving, needing more. Xavier’s response was a growl, his hand plunging into her and claiming her from within. He set her down roughly, a hard spank landing on her wet skin, the sting blending with the hot streams pouring over them. Then he was inside her, with his cock driving deep and relentlessly. Cathleen’s screams echoed off the tile, muffled by the rush of water, her body serving as a vessel for the fervor he unleashed. “Mine,” he hissed, each thrust punctuating his possession. “Yours,” she surrendered, the word torn from her in the throes of passion. They moved together in a dance of fire and flesh until the world narrowed to a point of blinding intensity. With one final, shattering thrust, they came undone, bodies quaking and souls entwined in the eye of the storm. Reality seeped back slowly, Cathleen’s legs failing her, her strength ebbing away. Xavier caught her before she crumbled, carrying her to the bed with a tenderness that belied the ferocity of moments ago. He laid her down, her consciousness slipping into darkness, wrapped in the cocoon of his arms. As Xavier watched her sleep, he thought of how his tongue could make her cum, how his hands could make her shiver. He knew her body by now, and he knew what to do to her to make her give in. He also knew that Cathleen wanted him as much as he wanted her. She acts tough, but when it comes to sex, she isn’t. He knew how to make her beg. With a smile on his face, he gave in to sleep. When dawn broke, painting the sky with hues of escape, Cathleen’s side of the bed lay empty, her absence a silent testament to the war within her-a battle between desire and the remnants of who she once was before Xavier claimed her in every way that mattered.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.