Whatever else he wants to say hangs in the air, nearly palpable. He continues to tease my nipples, instead, and drags his hand between my legs, fingertips tugging on my curls. At the nudge of his thumb against my clit, I wiggle out from underneath him, needing to feel his length in my hand. He’s half-stiff already and grows harder as I stroke. I circle the sensitive tip, first with my finger, then with my tongue, and he hisses as if in pain, fingers tangling in my hair. I shut my eyes, reveling in the feel of him in my mouth and the weight of his hand. There’s a hint of his taste on my tongue, rich and slightly salty. I take him deeper. My thighs press together, my body wanting him there, but I continue to tease and lick and suck.
“Fuck.” His voice is all ragged edges. “Fuck, Princess—” Abruptly, he groans, pulling me off him. “I’m gonna fucking come if you keep that up.”
“Do it.” I reach for him again, knowing my mouth is messy with spit, wanting to see how far I can take him. “Let me taste you.”
He kisses me instead, harshly, his tongue stroking into my mouth. I feel tight, tingly, throbbing with awareness and need. “That’s not where I want to mark you,” he murmurs finally. The tip of his nose skims my cheek. He breathes against my ear, sending flutters of sensation down my body. “I want...”
“Tell me,” I urge.
He doesn’t seem capable of getting the words out. He rolls us around so I’m on my back again, bracketed inside his solid warmth, and curls an arm around each of my thighs. He spreads me slowly, lovingly, as if I’m the rarest of ingredients, deserving all of his focus and respect.
The way he devours me, though, is as filthy as it comes.
I cry out, body jerking instinctively, as he runs his tongue down my slit. He spreads me with his thumbs, tongue and lips and teeth roaming everywhere, tasting everything. He teases my clit until I pant, clawing for him everywhere I can reach, only to pull away, pressing his face against my slick flesh. I feel his smile like a brand, his teeth like a tattoo. He leaves delicate nips on the insides of my thighs, as if signing his name. When he finally, finally lets me wobble off the edge, he looks up from the cradle of my hips, lips slick, beard wet, eyes shining like chips of rare jade.
His grin undoes me.
I claw at him until he settles over me. He slides a hand around the back of my head, cradling my neck as we kiss. I moan, tasting myself on his lips, desperate for him to claim me in the deep, unique way I know only he can accomplish. When we break for air, there’s a question in his eyes. Vulnerability that makes it clear he has more in mind than just making me come on his tongue.
“Tell me,” I say again, cupping his jaw, stroking my thumb just underneath his eye. “What are you thinking?”
His free hand strokes over my breasts, my ribs. He palms my belly, fingers spreading as wide as they can go, pressing in with just enough force that my eyes widen.
“Fuck, Poppy.” His voice is tender, a little hesitant. My heartthuds. “I want to fill you with me. Knock you up. You’d be so fucking beautiful, carrying my baby. Everyone would look at you and know I made you that way.”
I breathe in sharply. I might cry if he doesn’t get inside me right this second. I yank him into another kiss, open-mouthed, sharing his breath. I’d never thought much about having a baby, but the sudden image of it has me close to the edge again. I want it with brutal, breathtaking force. The thought of him coming deep inside me, again and again until I catch, and knowing I’m carrying his child... it’s irresistible.
My heart takes flight, high on an emotion I don’t dare name.
“Take me.” I whisper it against his lips. “Now, Jack. Claim me.”
His fingertips stroke my belly. “Need to get a condom.”
“We both tested negative for STIs.” I rub my cheek against his beard. “And I’m on the pill.”
“I know.” He groans, pressing our foreheads together. “I’ve been checking to see if you take it and your other meds.”
“Like you don’t forget too.”
He laughs helplessly. “I’ve been remembering because of you.”
“Me too.”
“We’re good influences on each other, then.” He strokes my hair tenderly. I hook a leg around his waist, heel digging into his lower back.
I’ve never felt so grounded, so present, in an intimate moment. The rest of the world has melted away, leaving us on our desert island. The only two people in existence, now and ever.
“Please,” I whisper. “I took it.”
That seems to soften the rest of his resolve. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “You make me want so much, sweetheart.”
I glow at his praise, urging him closer, gasping at the press of his cock against my opening. He takes his time, inch by perfect inch, generous with his kisses and lavish with his compliments. I tremble at the closeness of it. This is something I’ve never done before, with anyone. He rolls his hips, seeking the right angle, dropping his head with a groan when I squeeze around him tight. I urge him into a kiss, and he takes my nudge and runs with it, pressing his lips to mine with fierce possessiveness. He cups my bottom, lifting it justenough to deepen our connection. He thrusts into me like he wants to make a home in my body.
“Jack.” My lip trembles. My heart pounds so loudly, I feel it in my ears. “Jack,” I whine again, voice cracking, splintering. I’m wild with need, moving against him frantically. His teasing fingers find my clit, working me to the peak with precision. I drag him down and bite a tattoo on his shoulder, hard enough he hisses. I want him running on instinct with me, flung out into the ocean to swim by my side. He must see something in my eyes, a wordless plea, because he thrusts harder, rougher, letting his weight sink against me. The back of my throat burns. A tear escapes down my cheek.
I’ve never been so thoroughly, joyfully, caught in this kind of moment.
He licks the tear, making me laugh. He laughs too, a low rumble, and finds it in himself to freeze, buried in me to the hilt. I stroke the hair away from his forehead. He lets me taste his salty lips. I look into his eyes and can’t decide what shade of green they are. I love them all the same.
