“I bet I have a couple more left in me,” Jack says, and I take my winter coat off, hanging it on their coat rack.
“I’d like to know now if you’re planning on teasing me before I get my hopes up,” I say, walking backward, but there’s nothing teasing about the look on his face as he kicks his shoes off.
“Not unless you want to stop,” Jack says, and the idea of me telling him to stop right now is laughable. I know he’s a great guy, and I appreciate him making sure I’m aware I’m in charge, but I don’t want him to treat me like glass.
The air is humming with electricity, and I have no problem being the one to throw caution to the wind.
“I want to be here, and dammit, Iwantyou to fuck me.”
He doesn’t hesitate this time, closing the gap between us. Jack kisses me deeply, commanding control over me that I willingly give, and without breaking us apart, he lifts me into his arms with ease. I’m internally swooning at his confidence, wrapping my legs around his torso to hold on, feeling his erection press against me in all the right ways.
It’s a miracle we make it up the stairs without falling because I can barely think straight, let alone have enough coordination to hold up another person. As we reach the top, I pull open the collar of his shirt, trailing kisses along the hollow of his neck.
We falter for a moment in the hallway as Jack presses my back against the wall outside his room, his mouth finding mine again as he grips my ass tightly. I comb my nails over his scalp asJack groans, thrusting his hips against mine through the layers of our clothes, and I whimper with desperation.
God, I want him.
Jack fumbles for the door, kicking it shut behind us, and I feel the mattress dip below me as he sets me down, leaning over me. “You’re going to wreck me, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice low, and I open my eyes to look into Jack’s.
“Do you want to stop?” I ask, trying to give him the same courtesy he’s given me.
“Alondra baby, stopping is the last thing I want. Wreck me, ruin me, do whatever the fuck you want to me as long as it’s with me,” Jack says, and the only thing I’m certain of is that neither of us seems to have an ounce of self-preservation. If we did, maybe we wouldn’t continue down this collision course that promises to end in disaster.
I pull him back down to crash his lips to mine, because if he’s going down, then I’m going with him. I tug at his clothes, feral to feel his skin pressed against mine, and Jack chuckles against my mouth. “You’re a needy girl,” he murmurs, the weight of his body lifting off me and his fingers are quick to undo the buttons of his shirt.
“I want to touch you,” I say, drunk on the desire coursing through my veins, and Jack’s eyes widen for a moment, faltering.
“Okay,” he agrees, and I love his lack of argument.
I get up, shimmying out of my leggings, but when I move to take off his jersey, he catches me off guard, blurting out, “No.” I raise my eyebrows in silent question, and his cheeks flush. “I mean, can you please keep it on?” he asks, slipping out of the button-down, displaying his carved upper body for me.
“You want me to wear your jersey while giving you head?” I ask, lowering to my knees, reaching for his belt at the same time he does. I push his hands away, giving him a smile.
I forgot what it felt like to want to be intimate with someone instead of feeling like I have to, and I want him to enjoy this.
Jack’s eyes are dancing with delight as he nods, his throat bobbing as I undo the buckle, making quick work of the button and zipper. “I told you I like seeing you in it,” he says, and I tug the pants down over his thick thighs, my eyes widening at the prominent bulge in his briefs. Jack steps out of them, kicking them out of the way as I hook my thumbs under the waistband of his briefs, my confidence waning for a moment at the sheer size of his cock now that it’s right in front of me.
“Sit down, pretty boy,” I instruct, and he plants himself on the edge of his bed while I move between his open thighs. Jack curses when I wrap my hand around the base of his length, pumping.
“Al, you don’t have to,” he stammers, and if I weren’t so damn turned on, I’d roll my eyes, especially by the way his hands clench at his sides.
“I know, but I want to,” I say, winking at Jack. I take the tip in my mouth, sweeping my tongue over the sensitive head, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum, and it’s more effective at shutting up his protests than if I were to tell him to. My thighs shift together, trying to ease the ache between them as Jack’s low moan fills the room, boosting my ego. I like having Jack at my mercy.
He’s hot and heavy in my hand, and I lift my head, looking up at him as he watches me through half-lidded eyes. “This okay?” I ask, remembering how he twisted his hand when he stroked himself, but I don’t have enough lubrication. I spit into my hand, finding it much easier after, and Jack’s mouth parts.
“Holy fuck,” he swears, his core rippling, and I laugh softly.
“I want you to think about this moment every time you see me in the stands for you, wearing your jersey,” I say, wrapping my lips around his cock, bobbing my head, succeeding at takingmore of him in my mouth as his hips jerk up. I drag my nails, painted a sparkly purple, over his thick thighs, and I try not to smile when Jack inhales a sharp breath.
“Alondra,” he moans my name when I hollow my cheeks, and it sounds like music to my ears. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Jack swears, pulling me up a moment later, a hungry look in his eyes, and I jut my bottom lip in a pout, disappointed he stopped me. “Don’t look at me like that. If you kept going, I wasn’t gonna last,” he says, his voice strained as he cups my face. Jack’s pretty blue eyes land on my mouth, and he brushes his thumb over my cheek, pulling on my lower lip.
“And what if I wanted you to come in my mouth?” I ask, playing with fire.
Jack tips his head back, his throat bobbing. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“You wanna let me finish now?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“Later. I need to touch you first.” Jack kisses me in a way to make me forget my own name, and his hands skirt along the bottom of the jersey.
