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"Please," she pled. 'Jude, I..."
He kissed her cheeks, her mouth, her jaw. "Here,
love." Her eyes were still closed when he turned her. Suddenly she was above him, and he was still snug inside her. "Here," he said, "I'm yours."
Marissa drew a deep breath and pushed up on her hands. The weight pushed her body more firmly against him, and she sighed her satisfaction.
He let go of her wrists, and Marissa put her palms to his chest and looked down at Jude. He was gorgeous beneath her. Not pretty, not even handsome, but a gorgeous sight as she raised her hips and then took him deep.
Oh, yes. She could breathe again, though Jude seemed to be having trouble now. His hands gripped her hips as she began to ride him, and his breath came fast and hard.
Marissa felt that power again, the power she held over him, but this time it mixed up with his power over her. He filled her. Pushed inside her. Forced her body to stretch and take him in.
And she loved it. She loved him.
She tried moving faster, then in slow, torturous increments. Jude let her do what she wanted, and it was all as lovely as she'd dreamed. Her thighs began to shake, but she couldn't stop. It wasn't nearly enough. Jud
e's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and he slid one hand along her thigh until he touched her sex.
"Ah!" she cried out, her hips jerking with the shock of that electric touch.
"That's it," he murmured. "Have me."
She took him harder, as his thumb pressed that spot where all the tension built. "Oh, God. Jude." This was the culmination of every sensation she'd been chasing for years. The wickedness, the tightening, the wild licks of pleasure, the fullness of her very core. This was everything.
The tension became an aching weight that pulled her into herself. Marissa closed her eyes and dropped her head, concentrating on the miracle of her own body. And it was a miracle, the way her pleasure pulled at her soul, becoming something close to pain. She cried out in desperation, and then she broke. Her soul or her body, something inside her broke and released all her joy and pleasure with such force that she screamed as she slammed her hips into Jude's. She needed him impossibly deep, and he must've sensed it, because his hips rose to meet hers with brutal force as she sobbed and shook against him.
When the pleasure finally let go its grip on her, Marissa collapsed to Jude's chest, to pant and shiver against him. His big hands stroked her back as he hummed a soothing sound against the top of her head.
"You're amazing, Marissa."
"I've never . .. I've never felt anything like that."
"Ah. Finally."
"Jude!" she gasped, slapping his arm, but he was laughing against her. When she began to laugh too, his chuckles came to an abrupt stop. She couldn't help but laugh harder, aware of the way her muscles squeezed him.
"Christ, woman."
She rubbed her cheek against the hair of his chest, finding that his skin was damp with sweat. He smelled good and felt even better, pressed damp and hot against her.
She squealed when he flipped her to her hack and surged deeper into her.
"I've told you I need no teasing, mon coeur. You're driving me mad."
He looked mad, wild-eyed and flushed with passion. Marissa wrapped her legs around his hips and took him as deep as he needed to be. He kissed her with the same hunger she'd felt moments before. And when he finally reached his climax with a last desperate thrust, Marissa felt tears leak from her eyes.
He was her friend and her lover, and he'd be her husband as well.
"I love you," she whispered into the wild mess of his hair.
When he sighed, the weight of his body settled more fully onto her, but it was a happy weight, not one she wanted to squirm away from. He set his forehead to the pillow and shook his head. "I couldn't resist, and now you will regret this."
"I could never regret this. Never."
He pushed up a little, raising his head to look into her eyes. After a moment, weariness settled into his features. "It's too late regardless. I'm yours now."
I'm yours. The beautiful opposite of what Peter White had said to her. You're mine now, he'd crowed, as if she were a purchased treat. The difference, it seemed, between a boy and a man. Just as Jude had promised.
