He lavished her with thorough, consuming attention, alternating between peaks with greedy focus, drawing each one to an almost painful point before soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue. The suction intensified as he pulled her deeper into the scorching heat of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks until the sensation bordered on exquisite agony, a pleasure so sharp it lived on the knife’s edge of too much.
She cried out as waves of pleasure traveled from his mouth to her core. Her hips rolled against his palm in urgent, involuntary rotations, chasing friction he wasn’t providing.
He responded by shifting his thigh between her legs, the hard muscle pressing against her swollen sex, and the pressure was so perfectly placed she moaned into the sunlit room without shame. She ground against him, coating his skin with her arousal, riding the firm ridge of his thigh while his mouth worked her nipples into throbbing, glistening peaks.
“Jack.” His name was a plea and a warning.
He pulled back just enough to speak against her flushed skin. “Your body needs time to rest.”
“I don’t want to rest.”
Her hand slid beneath the loosening towel and closed around his cock, thick and rigid, pulsing with heat. The strangled sound he made at that first stroke sent a thrill of power cascading down her spine.
She caressed him slowly, root to tip, her thumb dragging over the swollen crown where moisture had already gathered. His hips thrust into her fist, a reflexive, helpless motion that contradicted every word of protest he’d uttered.
“Please.” She whispered it into the hollow of his throat, stroking him again, harder, feeling him swell and throb in her grip. “I want you inside me.”
His restraint collapsed. The towel vanished and he drove into her in one deep, possessive thrust that punched the air from both of them. His hand gripped her jaw, tilting her face to his, as his mouth crushed against hers in a kiss that tasted of total ownership.
This was different from the first time. This wasn’t reverence. This was hunger.
He withdrew and slammed back into her with a force that rocked the headboard against the wall, and the raw sound that tore from her throat only drove him harder. His grip on her jaw tightened as he kissed her between thrusts, swallowing her moans, feeding her his own, his tongue claiming her mouth with the same relentless rhythm his cock drove into her body.
His free hand found her breast and he palmed her roughly, squeezing, kneading, rolling her swollen nipple between his fingers with a pressure that made her vision blur. There was no gentleness in his touch now and she relished the rawness of his reckless love.
She wanted exactly this, the full, unleashed weight of his desire bearing down on her without apology.
He broke the kiss to bury his face against her throat, his breath scalding her skin as his hips snapped forward in hard, demanding strokes that filled the room with the wet, rhythmic percussion of their joining. Each thrust drove deeper than the last, stretching her, claiming her, reminding every tender inch of her body that she belonged to him.
She gave herself over to him like an offering, wanted to be his answered prayer, and she loved that—once he dropped his guard—he denied himself nothing.
His pace turned savage. The controlled rhythm shattered into something primal and graceless, his hips pistoning with a ferocity that drove her up the mattress until her fingers clawed at the headboard for purchase.
Sweat slicked the hollows of his collarbones, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched so tight the tendons in his neck stood out like cables. Every muscle in his body coiled and flexed beneath the scarred landscape of his skin as he drove into her with the single-minded desperation of a man trying to fuse his soul to hers.
Her orgasm ambushed her. It crested without warning, a detonation that radiated from her core to the tips of her fingers, locking her thighs around his hips as her inner walls seized his cock in merciless, rippling contractions.
“Jack!” She screamed his name so loud it cracked in the middle, her back bowing off the bed, her fingers dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders.
A guttural, almost wounded sound tore from his chest as his hips stuttered and slammed forward one final time. He spilled into her in violent, pulsing waves, his whole body shuddering above her as though something structural had given way.
His arms buckled and his full weight collapsed onto her, his face buried in the curve of her neck as his breath punched out of him in ragged, broken gasps.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. His heartbeat slammed against her as a fine tremor ran through his arms. Skin damp. Muscles twitching. She shivered and groaned.
When he finally lifted his head, his expression was wrecked. She tried to look regretful but failed miserably.
She hitched her shoulders. “Sorry?”
He pulled out of her carefully, breath sawing in and out of his lungs. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, voice hoarse from panting.
Daisy laughed, the sound bright and unrepentant. Her body already hummed with the promise of soreness, but she could not summon a single ounce of regret.
“Jack, I’m fi?—”
He moved before she could finish. One arm hooked beneath her knees, the other bracing her back, as he lifted her off the mattress in a fluid sweep.
“What are you doing?”
