She smiles just before she gently lowers herself on my cock, and the urge to grab her ass and slam her down when I feel that first bit of contact is strong.
But I hold off, fisting my hands in the sheets.
She’s the one in control.
“Fuck,” I hiss as she lowers a little more, adjusting to my size, taking it like a goddamn pro.
The anticipation is literally killing me, the saying holding more truth in this moment than any other moment of my life.
I watch as her tight pussy swallows my dick, inch-by-inch, until she bottoms out, both of us groaning at the sensation.
“That’s my fucking girl,” I grit, resting my hands on her hips, helping her find her rhythm. “There you go. Ride me, Rumi baby.”
And she does.
I watch as she takes me over and over again, her dark waves falling over her shoulders and down her chest, her blue eyes hooded as she looks down at me.
“You’re doing so good,” I praise, watching her with pure captivation as her look of concentration fades as she finds what feels good, her eyes closing as she rides me.
“I didn’t know it could be like this.” Her voice is breathy, and I can feel her tighten around my cock. I reach up, grabbing her full tits, massaging them before lightly pinching her nipples, making her eyes close.
Her head falls back, and I feel her inner muscles tighten as another orgasm crests, and my hands are back on her hips to hold her steady as I fuck up into her, hitting that spot I know drives her wild.
“Jack,” she moans, and neither of us could care less about how loud she is—if I had it my way, I want everyone hearing what she sounds like when I make her come.
“Come for me,” I order as I reach my own orgasm, both of us falling apart together.
CHAPTER 38
RUMI
I’m never leavingthis bed.
After tearing ourselves from each other, we took a shower and cleaned up, having to remind each other to keep our hands to ourselves multiple times before Jack bent me over and fucked me against the glass shower door.
By the time we got dressed, we were both starving.
We ordered a pizza and ate in bed, talking about everything and anything until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.
With the sunlight peeking through from under the shades, I look over at the sleeping man next to me, wondering if the butterflies I get when I see him will ever go away.
The way he makes me feel is unlike anything I ever thought possible, and last night was so much more than sex. It was hard to not get in my head when it was about to finally happen—I couldn’t stop the self-doubt and nerves from taking over, making me feel like I didn’t know what I was doing.
But he knew exactly what to say to ground me, to remind me that I was with him—the man I trust—not with the man who almost broke me beyond repair.
I brush a few pieces of his hair off his forehead before curling up against him.
“Good morning,” he says against my hair, his voice rough and ridden with sleep.
“Shh,” I tell him. “Go back to sleep. We still have two hours before I told Ava I would be back, and Sundays are for rest.”
I try to lay on his bare chest but he wraps his arms around me, murmuring something about how maybe he doesn’t hate Sundays after all; I don’t have time to ask him what he means because he’s pulling me on top of him. “I don’t need rest. I need you,” he says, his hands gripping the tops of my thighs as they settle on either side of him.
“Didn’t you get your fill last night?” I tease, already feeling desire pool in my lower belly.
“Never.” I lean down to press a kiss to his lips. “Now, hold on to the headboard,” he says against my lips.
“What?” I ask, not sure that I heard him right.
