AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This high up, clouds seem to graze the glass.
I’ve had all the seating and tables moved to make room for our session, and I’ve ordered the heating to be blasted so that we’re not exposed to the skyscraper cold of a rooftop in winter.
Maybe being outside – with the city laid out before me, and the possibility of us being interrupted – will stop me from acting on my unstoppable desires.
This rings hollow in my mind as I pace into the enclosure, the glass doors sliding closed behind me.
I’ve given strict instructions to my staff that I’m not to be interrupted this time, and if they absolutely have to, they’re to call me on my cellphone and not come up here.
So yeah, maybe I’m just giving myself an excuse.
Maybe Jade has already stolen more than my desire.
I shake my head as I walk over to the gloves and the pads, telling myself firmly that this time I’m not going to derail the session by lusting after her impossible-to-ignore curves.
This morning I woke up with a pit in my stomach and a pulsing ache in my jaw when I remembered how I lost control last night, allowed myself to be pulled into carnality as I never have before.
No woman, ever, has made me feel like that.
Yasmin’s mother didn’t even come close.
And yet there’s something about Jade …
I turn at a knock to find Jade standing outside the glass enclosure, her breath making dragon fire fog in the winter air. She’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants again, the light fabric falling like a caressing shadow over the gradations of her majestic body.
I bite down as my manhood swells.
“Door—open,” I say.
The glass door slides away and Jade hurries in, shivering as the door closes with a buzzing noise behind her.
“Wow, that’s impressive,” she says.
I shrug. “Perks of the job.”
She giggles and tilts her head up at me, her brown ponytail bobbing. I clench my fists to fight the urge to grab that ponytail, fist it hard and use it as a handle to guide her to all the places she belongs.
Focus, I roar at myself. This is a job. Nothing more.
I don’t know if I’m glad or disappointed that she hasn’t mentioned the closeness from yesterday, but in the end, it’s probably for the best, I decide. We can start afresh. We can pretend I didn’t shove her up against the wall and almost roared out that she’s mine and mine alone, forever.
“Do you always play it so cool, Jamie?” she says.
I can’t help but smirk as she walks across the room, her eyes darting here and there like she can sass me but making eye contact is a major effort.
“Maybe I’m not playing,” I growl.
“Oh, so you’re just this cool naturally? That’s what you’re saying?”
My smirk widens and I find myself turning away, mostly so I don’t dive at her and grab her again. The memory of how she shivered against me is making my muscles throb and pulse, and my manhood does the same, only worse, with my seed surging up and down my length as though trying to direct me to get my hands on her a second time.
“Shall we get started?” I say.
“I thought you were the boss,” she quips.
I glance at her, reading that ever-present war in her eyes, between nervousness and sassiness. It seems sassiness is winning out today.
I find myself wondering if it’s a defense mechanism, a front to hide just how anxious she is to be here, with me, as though I can’t read the woman who is going to give me a family one day.
No, I remind myself.
She’s not going to do that.
Because I’m just here to teach her some basic self-defense.
Yeah, right.
“First let me show you how to wrap your hands,” I say.
I pick up the hand wraps and walk over to her, immediately being washed in her just-Jade scent, her shampoo, and her womb throwing its signals out to me.
“Give me your hands,” I growl, unable to keep the quiver from my voice.
Her emerald greens widen for a moment and she bites her lip, the gesture that just downright kills me and makes me want to see all the different ways I can make her do that again and again.
She raises her hands slowly and I unfurl the hand wraps, blood red, and then take her hand in mine.
Electricity buzzes between us.
Lightning hammers into me and courses all over my skin, sizzling every goddamn inch of me. Her hand is soft and warm and all I can think about as I hold it is how good it’d feel wrapped around my shaft, squeezing hard and then stroking my precome up and down, making me good and slick for her begging slit.
I stare at her, hard, for a few long moments.
“Well?” she whispers, swallowing so that her throat shifts visibly.
