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“Is this…am I doing it okay?”
I nodded slowly. Moses on a cracker, yeah. It was more than okay. More than okay for her to fuck up my deal with her stepdaddy. It was more than okay for her to fuck up my plans. And my dreams. And my life. It was more than okay because it was me who’d come to her. Who’d crawled to her, really, sporting zero self-control.
I inched down, closing the space between us. My blood pounded between my ears, and I wanted to punch my own face for feeling the way I’d felt about a closed-mouth kiss. I needed to get laid. Soon. Shit, right now. We kissed like kids. One peck. Two pecks. Three pecks. Again and again and again, the world around us vanishing into a thick cloud of nothing, until the kisses became one long kiss.
And then she opened her mouth. Gently. Timidly. A baby’s first step in the world. Her tongue swept my lips, silently asking for permission, which I granted. She tasted warm and coconut-y, and we stroked for a while, just kissing, just fucking kissing, before I realized I’d wrapped her hair in my fist like the savage that I was and yanked her into me. Her body responded, wrapping around me like ivy. She bobbed her head into our kiss, as if giving me the permission to go ahead, and that’s all I needed to open my mouth all the way and demolish her. I ate her face, and I might be talking literally here. I licked the corners of her lips, biting and tugging at her lips until they became puffy and sensitive. Our foreheads crashed as I sucked her tongue into my mouth, until it stopped being a kiss and ventured deep into tongue-fucking territory. She whimpered into my mouth, and I nearly let go of her, worried that it was too much, but then her little fists balled around my neckline, and I grabbed her by the back of her thigh and curled it against my waist, grinding against her in a mixture of agony and need I’d never felt before.
As I boxed her in with my arms against the wall, I realized that I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. I’d sprinted past every single red line and broken every rule on my way to so-called healing her, all while creating the biggest junkie to walk on earth.
Yeah, that would be me.
My hard-on was aligned with her pussy, and I bent my knees a little, fucking her through her clothes. She clawed into my shoulders as I ground against her like I was trying to drill her into the wall. Her pussy against my cock felt like dark magic.
I was fucking her through our clothes. Literally fucking her without a condom. My dick was halfway inside her pussy, the only things separating us were her yoga pants and my trunks. I was going to remove my lips from hers for the first time in forty minutes when her little hand slipped into my waistband and grabbed my shaft. My dick jerked in her fist and sprang out of my trunks, and even though this was the definition of stupid—fucking the girl you signed a six-million-dollar contract not to fuck mere feet from the front door of the man who’d made you sign it—Jesse inspired the idiot in me. I was about to protest and mumble something about needing to calm down a little before my dick exploded, when she slipped my cock between her clothed thighs and rubbed them together.
Dumb Bane: fuck our dick. Let’s do it.
It was delicious and dirty and the kind of thing to make the new Jesse heave, which prompted me to believe I was getting the old one. The pre-Emery one.
“Snowflake…” I said. That was it. I didn’t really think beyond that. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking. Maybe for her to take mercy on my balls.
“Let’s come,” she moaned into our kiss. “Finger me.” She moved her hand back to my cock and began to stroke it, thumbing my PA and sending shivers up my spine.
Since I knew Darren’s security cameras didn’t point at the oversized plants decorating his entrance from each side—I’d checked—I knew we were in the clear. I shoved my hand into her yoga pants and found her silky and warm and so fucking tight I wanted to die right then and there, knowing no moment in my life was going to top this one. I slipped two fingers between her thighs and played with her a little. With any other woman, I’d get straight to the punch line, rub her clit and make her come so we could move on to the important part—me. With Jesse, she was the important part, and while a few months ago I’d have found this idea unnerving, I couldn’t give two shits about me when it came to her.
