His hands shoot out to keep my legs from closing. I’m about to argue when his mouth descends on mine. This kiss is slower, less need and more intent. I could make out with him for days. With a little sigh, my lips part and his tongue slips inside. I reach for his belt, but he catches me.
‘I’m not done,’ he rasps.
I try again. I’ve had my turn.
A chuckle rises from the back of his throat. ‘I’m notdone.’
In one swift movement, he lifts me and slides behind. It takes a painfully long time to register that I’m now sitting on his lap. Jesus, is that hisdickdigging into me?
His kisses trail from my shoulder to my collarbone to my neck to behind my ear, where he bites my lobe, and I’m jerked back from whatever stupid dreamy haze I was in. His legs are pinning mine wide open. My muscles are tender from this morning’s stretch, but the ache feels too good.
His finger’s tracing idle circles up my thigh, inching higher and higher. I usually don’t like so much attention – I feel selfish or frustrated or sorry for them – but this is different. From the hardness pressing into my lower back, Jack’s as into this as I am. His other arm’s binding me to him so I couldn’t slither away if I tried. I especially like that he can’t see my reactions.
He’s almost where I need him, almost, so tantalisingly close, when he hesitates and switches to the other leg.
‘Arsehole,’ I mutter.
His response is a smug peck on my shoulder.
When his fingers finally,finallymeet their destination, we both suck in a breath. I want it so much it’s a struggle to keep still.
‘Fuck,’he hisses, gently tracing my folds. ‘You’re so wet.’
Mortification returns with a vengeance, and I wrestle to close my legs but he’s unbelievably strong.
‘It’s a good thing,’ he assures me, a fraction from my ear. ‘And you’re a good girl. Good girls get rewarded.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Have you ever squirted before?’
Sexy Minnie: deactivated.‘What?!’I twist around to look at him.
His laugh is all hot breath. ‘You’ll like it.’
‘You don’t know what I like.’
Even in the shadows I can see his eyebrow lift. ‘Oh yeah?’
I don’t have the strength to argue because his fingers are back doing that stroking thing again against my clit, and I have no choice but to settle back against him. Arrogant prick. His movements accelerate and slow, accelerate and slow, driving me closer and closer to the brink.
Then a long finger pushes inside me.
It arches and brushes against somewhere very,verysensitive. I retaliate by running my nails down his forearm, and his breathing hitches.
‘When I tell you to, push out,’ he whispers in my ear, alternating circling my sex and dipping inside. ‘Can you do as you’re told, Roberts?’
In no world am I going to do that – like, what if Iwee?! – but I don’t have the energy to put that into words. Sexy WorldChampions aren’t the kind of guys you try risky manoeuvres with. I want him to think I’m pretty and feminine, not some out of control spewing whale.
As if Jack can read my thoughts, he says, ‘Don’t overthink it. Just do as I say.’
I grind my hips against his straining dick. He punishes me by adding a second finger.
Holy Jesus.
Thefullness.
I moan and press my face into his neck.
