Page 85 of Sweet Surrender

We might be pretending to be married but this doesn’t feel pretend. The want between us. The need to sate it. The undeniable sparks when his fingers skim over my skin.

Sure, it’s fresh and new and that makes it more exciting but there’s a genuine connection. A camaraderie. It can’t be more than that because we’ve only known each other for a short time, but it’s something for sure.

And when his lips slide down the curve of my neck, when his hands delve beneath my waistband to find me wet for him, whatever my thoughts are on that cease to exist.

Because all I can do is feel. All I can do is want. All I can do is take.

“Someone will see—”

My reluctant protest is stymied by his lips meeting mine and his hands sliding their way up my back to dive into my hair. “No one will notice. It’s dark. And getting caught adds to the thrill.”

“Jase—”

“Are you going to argue or are you going to pull your pants off one leg and ride my cock till we both come?”

Jesus. Well . . . when he puts it that way.

I stare at him as my heartbeat thunders and my pussy aches fiercely. He must know the minute my desire wins over my concern—it must be written all over my face—because the second he sees it, he dives back in for another kiss.

And that kiss is breath-stealing and desperation-inducing.

There is no turning back if I wanted to because Jase ignites something in me sexually that I’ve never known.

We’re a mass of frenzied movements. Each one getting us closer to the ecstasy I know he can provide my body with.

I’m caught between the chill of the air and the heat of his hands, and I don’t know which is more intoxicating. His fingers work me over, taking their time, dragging out my anticipation until urgency has me sliding my hands beneath his pants and finding his cock. It’s silky and hard and has my own ache sweetening.

I lose myself in the urgency of it. In the taste and feel of him. In the hard lines of his body and the desperation in his own touch as his mouth covers my nipple through my shirt, wetting it with his hot tongue, making me gasp and arch against him.

“Fuck,” I groan, my head falling back as his teeth bite at my nipples and his cock pulses against my hand as I work him up and down.

In several unskilled movements, I have one leg of my pants off and he has his own pushed down around below his hips. I’m straddling him again, one hand threaded through his hair as my mouth takes and takes while the other readies him for me.

His fingers find me wet for him and tease across skin that’s already sensitized from his touch. He tucks two inside me and twists until I’m nothing but a throaty moan holding on tight and begging for more.

“I need you,” I manage between breaths. “Want you.”

“You’re going to remember this,” he says roughly, as his fingers pull out, the feeling of emptiness they leave behind suddenly replaced with his cock. His hands are now on my hips guiding me to sink down slowly onto him.

And once he’s inside me and bottoms out, everything becomes a blur. Motions. Sensations. Muffled cries of pleasure.

The roar of blood in my ears blocks out every other noise except for his murmured praise in my ear.

“Take that cock, Hendrix.”

My world narrows to the man beneath me and the way he fills me so completely.

“Ride me. Fucking ride. Harder. All the way down.”

His teeth graze my collarbone, and I forget how to breathe.

“Fuck, you’re so tight for me. So wet for me. That’s my girl. Just. Like. That.”

I’m right there on the edge, seconds from tumbling over when headlights flash across us.

“Don’t you fucking stop, baby.”

I freeze in fear but it’s too late. I’m already lost to the pleasure and can’t hold back the frantic movements of my hips.