“I’m unhappy that that’s all you’ll do with me.” He grins then, eyes crinkling at the sides, and my glare intensifies. “Stop looking so pleased with that!”
“I can’t. I’m incredibly pleased that you’re getting all riled up.”
“Is this your plan then? Making out like teenagers until I get bored?” His face goes serious, his head shakes, and he reaches out to grab my hand.
“Hallie, I don’t want either of us to think that sex is blurring our common sense and use that to doubt what we have. We’re building a foundation for forever, Hallie.”
His words settle in my chest, but after the last week, after the last month, they don’t sound as scary as they did when this first started.
I don’t tell him that, though, not wanting him to realize his method is actually working.
“You’re infuriating,” I grumble, and he laughs but reaches over, pulling me into his lap. My legs drape over him, and he pushes my hair back from my face before cupping my face.
“We’ll have the rest of our lives to fuck, Hallie.”
“We don’t even have to fuck!” I say, shifting so my center rests against his still hard cock. “We can do other things.”
“Hallie,” he says in warning, but he feels so good between my legs that I decide I don’t care about his protests. Not right now. Not when I can take what I need and still follow his rules.
“Fine,” I grumble, mostly to myself. “I can take care of myself.”
“Hallie.” His voice is a warning, but I’m liking the idea brewing in my mind more and more by the moment. I just need to take things into my own hands, to take a hit I need. He’spushing me in the direction he wants, so why can’t I push him in the direction I want, too?
I shift, grinding myself gently against his hardness beneath me in his sweats, and a heavy breath leaves my lips. I’m in thin black yoga pants and a pair of silky underwear that I definitely didn’t put on just in case he finally decided to move further, and I’m grateful for the way they sit against me now. My hands move to his shoulders, pressing to lift myself and readjust, and a mewl leaves my lips as the thick length of him settles right where I need him. I move my hands up to his jaw, cupping them and leaning in to kiss him, to continue with what we started. He accepts the kiss eagerly, and when I realize he’s not stopping me, I have to fight back a squeal of delight.
Instead, his tongue twines with mine, stoking the fire that never went out, and slowly, my hips start to rock on him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, breaking the kiss, his hands moving to my hips, though he doesn’t stop me. He just rests them there, fingers tightening just as I shift my hips again, the head of his cock brushing over my oversensitive clit. My breath hitches before I answer, hips rocking again.
“Taking care of myself,” I whisper back, leaning in to kiss his again, deeper. The hand on my hip grips me tighter, the other moving up my back and tangling in my hair at the back of my head as he groans into my mouth. I can’t help but grin triumphantly into the kiss, but when I tip my hips back with my next line, the grin turns into a soft moan.
“Fuck, Hallie,” Jesse groans into my mouth. “Fuck.” The second one sounds more pained, more needy, and it sends me higher.
“I’m more than—” My breath hitches as pleasure shoots through me unexpectedly. I am already so close after a week of foreplay. “More than happy to fuck. You’re the one who refuses.”
“No, no. This is fucking perfect. I’m not complaining in the least. This is the most beautiful torture.”
He’s not going to stop me.
Need and heat crash through me with the realization, and my hips start to move faster, taking what I need without abandon. I tip my head back, moaning low, and his head drops forward to press kisses to my throat, my chest, whatever exposed skin he can reach.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he groans into my neck. “Moaning and using me. Fuck Hallie.” My hips rock with more speed, my breath coming in short pants, the pleasure building between my legs.
“You could take over,” I manage to breathe, watching the look of pained pleasure on his face through hooded lips.
“And miss the show? Fuck no.”
His hand leaves my hip for a split second, shifting to hover over my breasts before thinking better of it and moving back to my hip. He grips me there harder than before, as if he has to remind himself of the boundaries he set. I really thought he would cave, that this would tip the scales in my favor, and he would fuck me, but it seems Jesse King has the restraint of a much stronger man.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hips lifting as I move, chasing my pleasure. My hands slide to cup my breasts, the thin bra I’m wearing barely offering any resistance as I roll my nipples. His eyes watch, enraptured, jaw loose, breathing heavy, and the look alone sends me higher.
“I’m gonna come,” I whisper, staring down at him with hooded eyes. His eyes shift to lock on mine, burning with unsated need. A hand moves up, gripping the back of my head and pulling me close until my forehead is pressed to his, never breaking eye contact with me.
“So am I,” he admits, then presses his lips to mine.
I don’t know if it’s the confession that he’s as lost as I am, that he’s so far gone and so needy that he’s like a fucking teenager, about to come in his pants, or if it’s the kiss, the need and desire and something I won’t quite name but know lingers there all the same, pouring from his lips to mine, but I come, lights flaring behind my eyes.
A deep, pleasure-filled groan leaves his lips, and his hands move to my hips, holding me down onto him, pulling me tighter, as I shatter, rocking my hips as wave after wave of pleasure crashes down over me. Eventually, it wanes, and my body goes slack. Jesse’s head falls to my shoulder, and I try to catch my breath as I come back to reality.
