He transfers his attention from my nipples to my heavy lidded eyes. His eyes bear down on me with an emotion I can’t place. It’s so intense I don’t know if he’s angry or excited.
Maybe all of the above.
But one thing I’m irrevocably certain of is he is getting off watching me come undone at his touch. Flared nostrils, dilated pupils, a broad chest that vibrates with bated breath as he enjoys the symphony he’s composing.
I’m used to guys closing their eyes in the darkness as they utter phrases like “oh yeah baby. You feel so good.” Or “just like that.” The silence hanging between us in this moment speaks greater volume than anything a man has ever said in bed with me. It’s raw. It’s untamed. I don’t know how to remain confident and composed under such a heavy gaze.
“Fuck,” I hiss as the orgasm builds and builds.
How the fuck does he know exactly what to do with my body when he’s so inexperienced with it? Obviously he’s not inexperienced overall, but this is only our second time together in a sexual capacity. He shouldn’t be this in sync with me.
Just when I think the climax is about to explode, Jason unsheathes his fingers causing me to grunt in frustration. I pull my hands from his grip with one sharp jerk then shove at his chest with both hands until he’s backed up to the bed. With one push on his shoulders, Jason is sitting on the edgeof the bed so I can straddle him with both legs squeezing him between me. One hand behind me to guide him, I lower my body onto his hard girth to revel in the blissful stretch of my flesh around his. I was honestly worried he wouldn’t fit. But I’m a masochist and I enjoy the sting, the stretch, the fulfillment. All of it elicits a cry muffled by his hand clamped over my mouth so we don’t alert Dylan of our rendezvous.
“Fuck,” I repeat my sentiment after Jason moves his hand from my mouth to my ribcage and starts guiding my frenzied bouncing. Using my quad strength, I rise and fall over and over on his solid cock. Jason’s sturdy hands that craft such beautiful works of art hold me steady at the waist as my back arches in ecstasy.
Clit thrashing against the place our bodies join, I climb higher and higher to that peak of destruction. “How did you—ahh.” Just before I fall over, Jason latches onto my nipple with his teeth, drawing a shocked cry from my core as I tumble over the edge into a free fall. It’s the same feeling I get on roller coasters, a gut-wrenching, tummy-twisting, mind-blowing plummet that rocks my entire body.
But refusing to let me fully revel in the sensation, Jason has us in the air again and he backs me into the wall once more without ever letting our bodies part. One hand cupping my ass for support, one hand pressed against the wall. My legs circle his waist landing on his hip bones for leverage.
I won’t lie, the steady strength he displays in flawlessly transferring us from the bed to a standing position does something to me. It’s unfair how the basic features of this man can make me feel hot and bothered.
Trapped between Jason and the cabin style wall, he doesn’t miss a beat and starts pounding into me repeatedly wringing the last orgasm out of me as the next one collects low in my belly.
He’s relentless in his ministrations, forceful, and—dare I say—possessive. I had a feeling he’d be aggressive in bed but I didn’t expect this kind of cataclysmic reception. I didn’t even know if he would want to fuck me. For all I knew, the night of my birthday was a one time thing.
Clearly, he has a lot of sexual frustration he needs to release and if this is to be the outcome, I’ll happily be the recipient.
In and out. The liquified sound of my orgasm and the heavy breaths Jason exhales through his nostrils are driving me insane to the point that I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk when he sets me down.
I’m so close,so close, I can’t take the agony of the moments before the orgasm hits and I’m praying that it’s as powerful as I think it will be.
When Jason removes one hand from the wall while the other remains on my ass, he encases my throat in his free hand with just enough pressure to drive me over the edge. It won’t leave a mark. It doesn’t cut off my breath entirely. But damn does it make my pulse skyrocket and my body convulse with shockwave after shockwave of pleasure. I bite my lower lip to keep from screaming and all that accomplishes is stifling the groan/cry that fights for release in my throat.
In a series of perfectly executed moves, Jason unclasps my legs from around his waist, drops me to the floor so I’m standing in front of him, pulls out of me, and pumps his erection so ribbons of come paint my stomach. The only sound he makes is a guttural groan that resonates in his chest like a bee trapped in a glass jar, buzzing in a deep baritone. I’ve often wondered what his voice sounds like. In moments like this, I can’t help but imagine it’s close to Henry Cavill’s sexy voice.
The degradation of his come dripping down my body in little trails equally offends and turns me on. I know his reasons were twofold. First, because we didn’t use a condom. And second, because he will find any chance to belittle me, to remind me that the tables have turned and I am not on top anymore.
But I…kind of like that. I like this dominant side of Jason Alder. I like the way he consumes me and makes me feel like I’m under his power. I like the possessive look in his eye and the control in his actions. He’s too sexy for his own good.
After Jason recovers from his own release, he stalks over to a chest of drawers and pulls a t-shirt from the second drawer to the right to wipe his dick clean. When he’s finished, he throws it in my direction so the wadded material almost strikes my face. I catch it before his discarded come can land on my skin and start to wipe myself up.
No after care from you, I guess.I shouldn’t have expected much to begin with. He’s not the doting type.
I head for the t-shirt I wore in here which sits on the floor by the door but Jason snatches it before I can reach it and smirks. He fucking smirks knowing I’ll have to walk back to my room naked.
What an asshole.
But I already knew that.
Thinking on my feet, I bolt for the same drawer he retrieved the shirt to clean his junk and grab one before he can stop me, slipping it on as quickly as possible. I shoot back my own triumphant grin before saying, “Thanks for the fuck, asshole,” and exit the room.
But what a fuck it was. I sincerely hope that’s not the last time. If Jason fucks as hard as he hates, this could be an eventful rest of the winter.
Chapter Fifteen
Jason—Present
Power Over Me- Dermot Kennedy
