I swallow. After weeks of opposing him at every turn, it’s shockingly easy to just do as he says. To hope he might tell me how good I’ve been again.
With his help, I straddle his lap. We’re both breathing hard, looking down at the small gap of space left between us and the almost comical size difference in our anatomy. It’s absurd, really. To think this might work.
“Jude,” I say, and I can’t help the desperate, miserable little laugh that comes out of me. Because when it comes down to it, this is all I’ve wanted.Him, as close as possible.
His hand lifts to my worried face, stroking my damp skin. “Do you trust me?”
It feels like a loaded question. But I find myself nodding, hoping he has some kind of solution for this particular issue. Maybe he’s consulted NASA.
“I do.”
He exhales. “Good. Then I want you to touch yourself.”
I frown. “Isn’t the point of doing this together that wedon’thave to touch ourselves?”
“What did you literally just tell me six seconds ago?”
I huff out an annoyed breath. And I guess it’s good to know we’re still capable of bickering on the brink of finally having each other. Relenting, I slide my hand between us. At the first stroke of my fingers, Jude’s mouth parts in silent awe. His knuckles brush against my hand as he gives himself a tight pump. Another. And I stand corrected. This is the best idea in the world.
Pleasure coils tight within me under his feverish gaze. I can’t stop watching his hand on his cock, memorizing his every movement. When he squeezes more precum from the tip, smearing it over himself, a soft moan escapes me.
“Faster,” he demands, eyes trained on my hand.
I whimper, breasts shaking as my fingers work harder, the spray of water hot on my back.
“Shit.Yes, just like that,” he urges me. “Need you dripping if you want this.”
“Jude,” I gasp. His thumb strokes over my aching nipple and I arch, thigh muscles tightening, and I could easily come apart like this. Just from watching rivulets of water shiver between his contracting stomach muscles. From the brush of his swollen cock against his hollow navel. From his eyes on me.His eyes. They hold me like a fist when I meet them.
“Show me how wet you are,” he orders, breathless. “Fuck yourself and show me.”
His words are lightning down my spine. I dip two fingers inside myself, eager to please, before holding them up for him.
“Christ,” he swears, grabbing my wrist none-too-gently. When he pulls my fingers into his hot mouth, tongue sliding between them as he sucks me clean, I nearly fall off the bench. I nearly fall off Earth itself. It’s instinct to rise higher on my knees. To seek friction against him as I pull my fingers free.
“Yes,” he grunts, grabbing my ass to work me against him. I brace myself on his wet cheekbone. His unshaven jaw, and thestrong cleft of his chin. He’s so beautiful, so caring, it could break my heart to a thousand pieces. Tears slip down my cheeks as I choke back gasps.
I’m clumsy, hands shaking, and I don’t mean to—not exactly—but the fat head of his cock slips lower, pressing against my opening. His eyes are wild on me. “Condom,” he blurts.
“Do we have to?” I whine, hips fretful. “I’m on birth control.”
His eyes squeeze shut. “You’re going to kill me, Gracie.No. We don’t have to. I’m clean.”
I believe him. If he told me he’d rather eat his own foot than harm me, I’d believe that, too. And so, I lower myself on him. Or at least, I try. With a tight push, the first few inches slip in and his eyes roll back.
“Jude,” I pant, gripping his shoulders like I mean to keep him from passing out. “Please. You’re not—” I press harder. “It’s notworking.”
My voice is edged with panic, and with effort, he opens his eyes. Beads of condensation roll down his neck, over his fluttering pulse. “It’s okay,” he rasps. “I’ll teach you how to take me.”
His hand slides down, almost lazy in his haze of pleasure. When his fingers find my clit, his touch is so gentle that the lack of friction is all I can focus on. My wide eyes lock with his.
“Jude—”
“I know, angel,” he pants. “Relax for me.”
I take a shuddering breath and begin to move, desperately searching for more than his skimming touch. But he’s barely touching me, torturing me with fleeting grazes, until a frustrated whine breaks from my throat. He’s doing it onpurpose.
“You’re almost there,” he promises.
