“Just fuck me,” she told him.
Truthfully, though, she didn’t think he would. She imagined him balking immediately. Stepping back, holding up his hands.Whoa, whoa, she could almost hear him saying. Instead of what she got: “Go get on the bed,” he said, all low and deep. Like thewords had been dragged from somewhere low down inside him, somewhere filthy and good and oh so hot.
Because it was, oh god, it was.
And even more so when he didn’t wait for her to do as he’d asked. He was on her before she’d even managed to kick off her jeans. He did it for her as he climbed over her body. One hand over her head, the other shoving them down. Ripping them down, really, because she heard material tear.
It would have scared her.
If it hadn’t been him. If he hadn’t been kissing her as he did it, desperately, frantically, like he could hardly get enough. It almost made her think she’d been wrong about him pulling away. Though, of course, she knew this was just sex. It was just sex, when he fisted a hand in her hair. Just sex when he let out a sound like a sob, as he found her wet and ready.
Just sex when he said:
“Tell me to stop if it’s not okay.”
He had to know, however, that she was never going to now. It felt too good to—to get his hand between her legs, stroking and stroking. And even sweeter when he couldn’t seem to wait. Jack, who was patient and steady and careful, suddenly spreading her legs. One hand unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his jeans.
Then finally, finally—the press of him, right there.
Barely holding back, barely waiting to see if she could take him. Then sinking all the way in when he felt her give.So easy, his shocked gaze seemed to say as she took him. But it almost made her laugh. It almost made her say,Of course it is with you. Of course it is with someone I want, someone who cares.
But of course the problem was: it was impossible to.
Sensation had stolen all her words.
She got the long, slow slide of that gloriously thick cock in her cunt. And all she could do was let out a far too heavy sort of groan.It sounded like someone dying. Like someone drowning. She almost blushed to hear it come out.
But she needn’t have.
It made him do the same.
He let out this guttural sound as she took him to the hilt. Gaze stunned, completely undone. Everything still in that one moment as he drank the sensation in. As he searched her face, for who knew what. Permission that had already been given, praise for giving him this, some sort of sorry, that this was goodbye.
She didn’t know.
And whatever words hovered then, on his lips, he clearly decided not to say.
Instead, he spoke with his body. He moved against her, slow, slow. Eyes rolling closed as he did so. Though that couldn’t last. She knew it couldn’t, because it couldn’t for her, either. She got that first spark of pleasure, and bucked against him. Told him just how amazing he made her feel.
“Thank you for everything you’ve given me,” she somehow said.
And the second she did, he let out a broken sound. He stopped.
Then he told her: “Turn around.” Roughly, she thought. But god, it didn’t feel rough when she did as he asked. She got on her hands and knees, and he almost eased her back, and down. One hand rubbing over her as he did. The other between her legs, to help guide himself in.
And even when he gave into—even when he filled her, and fucked her, it didn’t feel like fucking at all. It felt like bliss, to have him taking his pleasure. To have him holding her hips so he could drive in. To have him pounding her, relentlessly, until she could hardly do anything but say his name.
“Jack,” she said, as he got a fistful of her hair.
Like inLord of Scoundrels, she thought mindlessly.
Then he hauled her up, her back to his front—just like in that book, too. Like he knew what she wanted, and wanted to give it to her. Even as he gave to himself, too. He cupped her breast, as if he just longed to feel it. Held her hip tighter, so he could go at the relentless speed he seemed to need.
Though it was only when she cried out, in shock and joy—when the pleasure started to overflow, and she knew she was there—that he truly let himself go. He waited, hovering on the brink, as she rocked in his arms and wrung out every last drop of this bliss.
And only then did he do it.
He followed her down, into the sweet embrace of oblivion.
