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So, keeping my eyes on his, I started to bunch his shirt up in my hands at the backs of his shoulders. Jack understood what I wanted, lifted his torso, and pulled off his shirt.
I wasn’t one for doing intense, physically demanding things in my day-to-day life. Sure, I’d occasionally go for a long walk, and I obviously didn’t mind snowshoeing. But the work that had to be necessary for someone to wind up with a body like Jack’s was something I’d never be able to convince myself to do.
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful human body in my life,” I blurted, my eyes riveted to the solid mass of his well-defined chest and abdomen.
“Have you looked in the mirror?” he countered.
My eyes met his. I couldn’t miss the heat and desire in them, even if I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I hadn’t intended to say what I did, at least not the way that I had.
Jack didn’t give me the opportunity to sit with that humiliation. In fact, he took advantage of the fact that I’d been slightly stunned. His hands came to the hem of my shirt. They slipped beneath the fabric, spanned my sides, and slid up my body, taking the shirt with them.
I didn’t care that he was removing my shirt. It didn’t matter that I felt as though my body wasn’t nearly as perfect as his was. All I could manage to focus on was the way it felt to have his large, calloused palms and long fingers touching my skin.
He whipped my shirt over my head, tossed it aside, and moved to my bottoms. Before I had the chance to really process all that was happening, I was in the middle of Jack’s bed, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a bra.
Since I hadn’t planned for any of this to happen, I was merely grateful for the fact that they were at least matching, even if not a set.
There was nothing sexy about what I had on: a pair of cotton bikini bottoms with a plain black, demi-cup bra. No frills. No lace. Nothing. Just pure, functional cotton.
I got caught up in how unsexy I must have looked to Jack when he dropped his pants and joined me in the bed, clearly unbothered by my lack of sexiness.
The second I felt his warm skin against mine and he kissed me again, all thoughts of my undergarments vanished.
Jack slid his arms around my body, fell to his back, and took me with him. With my body on top of his, and Jack’s rough palms roaming over every inch of skin they could reach, our make-out session had the kind of stamina that rivaled that of college-aged kids.
But the one thing that I thought was different was the pace.
Jack was clearly the one leading this, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he was not in a rush.
He offered gentle caresses with his fingertips or drove his fingers into my hair and allowed them to get tangled in the strands. He had me on top before rolling so he could have a turn.
Eventually, my bra and panties came off, and Jack’s underwear were lost. But even then, he didn’t rush.
He took his time.
Kissing.
Touching.
Exploring.
He built me up in a way that I hadn’t expected or even thought was possible. And by the time he slid inside, I was already a bundle of heightened senses, desperate for release.
But even with that desperation, I couldn’t bring myself to seek it out. In fact, I wanted to prolong this. I wanted as much time as I could get with him. I wanted it to go on and on for as long as it could.
Because I loved everything about what he was doing. I loved the way it felt like he was savoring me, like I was something special.
It was in the way he touched my body and kissed my skin. It was in the way he looked at me when I moaned with pleasure. And it was in the sounds he made when he thrust inside.
I’d never experienced anything more beautiful. And that was why, eventually, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.
“Jack,” I called out, an obvious warning in my tone.
He groaned and continued his steady, languid pace.
I thought I would have needed more—harder or faster—but I didn’t. And the next thing I knew, I lifted my head from the pillow and buried my face in his neck as my body shattered, my limbs convulsing around him.
Wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me, and there was nothing I could do but hold on.
