“Then stop thinking and do something about it,” I challenge.
He laughs, and god I love his laugh. His smile. “Where’s the fun in rushing?” He lowers his mouth to my breast, but doesn’tgive me what I want yet. Just breathing on my nipple, letting me feel the warmth of his breath but not actually touching. Teasing.
“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” I point out breathlessly, and I can’t even stop my body from trying to twist into his mouth. “I swear if you don’t?—”
He cuts off my complaint by closing his mouth around my nipple and sucking hard. My hands fly to his hair immediately, gripping tight, and he groans. Music to my fucking ears.
“Jack, please,” I gasp, because I need more and he knows it.
“Please what?” he asks, kissing down my stomach, taking his time. Paying attention to every inch of skin, every dip and curve. “Tell me what you need.”
“Put your mouth on me,” I say without any hesitation. “Stop teasing and make me come.”
“Fuck, I love when you talk like that,” he says, and the heat in his voice makes me clench. “So fucking hot when you tell me exactly what you need.”
He kisses along my inner thighs slowly, deliberately avoiding where I want him most. I make this frustrated sound and he drags his lips gently against my skin, clearly enjoying this too much.
“Jack, I swear to?—”
“What?” he asks innocently, looking up at me. “You’ll do what?”
“I’ll finish myself if you don’t hurry the fuck up,” I threaten, and one of my hands starts sliding down my stomach.
He catches my wrist immediately, pinning it beside my hip. “The hell you will. That’s mine.”
“Then do something about it,” I bark, and there’s mischief and heat sparking between us.
“Oh, I’m going to do a lot of things about it,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “And you’re going to take every single one.”
He spreads my legs wider with his shoulders, settling between them, and finally puts his mouth on me. The second his tongue flattens against my clit I gasp, my hips lifting sharply, trying to get more pressure, more contact, more everything.
The taste of me on his tongue must drive him crazy because he groans against me, and the vibration goes straight through my clit. I’m already wet, already soaked and ready for him, and he’s taking his time like he has all night to do this.
“Oh fuck,” I moan, my free hand flying to his hair, gripping tight. “Yes, just like that, please don’t stop?—”
He works me slowly at first, long strokes of his tongue. Taking his time learning what makes my hips lift higher, what makes me moan louder, what makes my thighs start to tremble. When he focuses on my clit with steady pressure, I make this sound that’s half moan, half whimper.
“Right there,” I gasp, my hand tightening in his hair. “Stay right there, please?—”
He keeps the rhythm steady, exactly what I need, while he slides two fingers inside me. The stretch makes me cry out, and when he curls his fingers upward to hit that spot deep inside me, I nearly come right then.
“Oh Jack, fuck…”
He doesn’t let up. Keeps working that spot with his fingers while his mouth stays focused on my clit. I’m making these sounds I can’t control—breathy moans and gasps that tell him exactly how close I’m getting.
“That’s it,” he groans against me. “Let me hear you. Love those sounds you make.”
The pleasure builds impossibly fast. My thighs are trembling, I’m starting to clench rhythmically around his fingers, my breathing is getting faster and more erratic.
“I’m close,” I gasp. “So close, I’m gonna—please don’t stop?—”
“I’ve got you,” he says, increasing the pressure with his tongue, his fingers moving faster. “Come for me, baby.”
I break. My back arches completely off the rug, my hands yanking his hair, and I come, screaming his name like a warcry. Loud and dangerous and completely uninhibited.
The pulsing, the waves rolling through me, are so intense I can barely process them. He works me through every single one, drawing it out, making it last, until I’m gasping.
“I can’t,” I pant, my chest heaving. The sensations are still rolling over me and it’s too much and not enough all at once. “Too sensitive, I can’t take anymore?—”
