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She giggled, breaking the kiss, but my lips kept themselves busy tasting the skin on her collarbone.
“We’ve gotta go, Jess,” I said, palming her breast.
“Oh, what time is—oh!” she breathed when I flexed my hips into hers.
“Late. It’s late. But I’ll go crazy if I can’t touch you all day.”
“Well, I think maybe you can. Touch me all day, that is. Church appropriately, of course.”
I lifted my head with a question on my face.
“I might have told Cass last night.”
I froze. “You . . . told her?”
She nibbled her bottom lip, toying with my hair. “I was so excited, I sort of...blurted it out.”
“And how did she take it?” My hips rolled on their own. I had no self-control.
“Mmm. Mmhmm. Well, Henry caught her before she could maul me. I ran straight for you, but I couldn’t find you.”
I put enough space between us to get her pussy in my palm. “I was at Wilder’s. Jesus, Jess—you’re drenched.”
“I missed you—“ She gasped when I stroked her through her panties. “Shelby gave me a ride, but you weren’t here. So Beau and I fell asleep waiting.”
“My phone was dead. We should be glad—if I’d known you were here, I’d have been too drunk for anything gentle.”
“Oh. Think you’ll get drunk tonight?” she asked hopefully.
I laughed. “Whatever you want, Duchess. But I can throw you around drunk or not, if you want me to.”
“I want you to.”
“Deal. But not now. We’re on a timeline, darlin.” I knelt to pull her panties off.
“I’m so tired of timelines. Come here.” She opened her arms, and I filled them, gazing down into her face.
“Well, we don’t really have one after today, do we?”
“Depends. How long do you want me to stay?” she asked.
“Forever,” I said, kissing her gently. Gentle turned into determined, and that turned into something hot and rough. She bit my lip as we parted.
“God, I love this fucking dress,” I mumbled, running a hand down her ribs. “Take it off.”
“Would you help me?” She propped herself up and twisted. “The zipper’s back?—”
“Oh, fuck it,” I said and ducked under her skirt.
She giggled. “Remy wait, take off my—oh! Oh.” She sighed, melting beneath me as I ravaged her pussy. But it wasn’t enough just to taste her. I wanted to drown. I slid my arms under her thighs and rolled over until the weight of her was pressed against my mouth. She yelped in surprise, then moaned, riding my face while I gripped her thighs. I couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to. Added smothered by Jessa’s cunt to my short list of preferred ways to go. She somehow managed to get her dress off, and thank God—with it gone, I could look up her body, past her tight nipples, up the column of her neck to the base of her jaw. She propped her hands on the mattress above my head, brows drawn, lips parted. I knew that look—she was close. So I loosened my grip and let her lead as she fucked my face, licking and sucking to the rhythm of her body. And then she sped up. Her body went tight, her pussy went tight, and then she exploded in a burst, a cry, a gasping moan as she came all over my tongue.
She sagged—I flipped her over and climbed up her body.
“Later, I’m taking my time with you,” I started, unbuttoning my jeans. “But we’ve gotta go, Duchess.”
Jessa mewled, struggling to free me as I pulled my pants over my ass. We both sighed when my cock was in her hands, then dipped in her pussy, then sheathed inside of her. For a second, I couldn’t move. She was too tight, she was too beautiful. She was here. She was staying.
She was mine.
