I was utterly ravenous watching her every expression, drinking it in as I kept pace with my hips, loving that the friction of my jeans, coupled with her piercing, had her freely chasing another orgasm. I didn’t care that I was about to come in my pants like a teenager; her pleasure was all that mattered.
She was perfection personified.
“Jame . . . Jameson.” Her breaths were short and punctured.
“Take what you need, Ari.”
She clawed at my shirt. “I need to feel you.”
I tore open my dress shirt, causing buttons to scatter everywhere, too impatient to undo each one carefully. Then I reached behind my shoulder, grasped my black T-shirt, and pulled it over my head before leaning down again to capture her lips with mine.
Hungry and greedy, I held my hand on her jaw, her lips pillowy soft, a sharp contrast to the bite of her nails scoring down my back.
“Jameson.” Her hips tilted as she wrapped her legs around my back and hit a different angle. “Oh God, Jameson,” she cried out.
“I’ve got you.” I rocked into her as undeniable pleasure snaked down my spine.
“I can’t . . . I can’t, it’s too much.”
I leaned back on my forearm and slid my other hand down her neck until I felt her pulse point under my palm and added pressure with my thumb.
“Jameson.” Her eyelids fluttered with ecstasy.
She was on the edge, the crescendo right there for the taking.
“Let go, Ari,” I coaxed her.
And let go, she did, in spectacular fashion.
Our staggered breathing filled the space as we crashed over the edge together until I felt a burst of wetness soak the front of my jeans.
“Holy fucking shit,” I roared back in shock. “Did you—” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.
Watching her come was euphoric, but knowing I made her squirt was the ultimate bonus.
“Oh my, God!” Her hands covered her face in embarrassment as realization sunk in.
“No way,” I pulled her hands away, “don’t you dare hide from me. Not now, not ever. That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“I’ve never . . .” There was a slight edge of embarrassment before her words tumbled out in a rushed burst of defense. “You’re the only one who’s made me do that; I didn’t know it was possible. I’ve never been with anyone since I got?—”
I crushed my mouth against hers, slipping my tongue inside when her lips parted, drinking in the honesty behind her words. Pleasing a woman had never been an issue, and yet her admission filled me with a greater sense of pride because it was her—she was the only one that mattered, the only one my heart felt a rush of adrenaline for, the only one I’d ever truly desired.
I hadn’t even been inside her yet, and I was unequivocally ruined in the best way possible. Knowing I was the only one who would ever get her like this made me feral because now that I’d had a taste, there was no letting go.
Not that I ever planned to.
Our intimacy level was unparalleled, and we were just getting started.
“Jameson, please. I need you.”
Never had there ever been a sweeter plea.
I picked her up bridal style and carried her down the hallway into my room, setting her on the edge of the bed only to hear her gasp once I turned the bedside table light on.
“You’ve got Christmas bedsheets and all.” She giggled.
When I did something, I went all-in, and my bedroom décor was no exception; it matched the rest of my living space. “Are you really surprised?”
