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His body stiffens against mine. “Say it again,” he growls as he grasps my arm roughly and spins me to face him. His eyes search mine, but I turn away. It’s too hard to look at him. To see those beautiful blue-gray eyes fill with hope. To let myself wonder why he’s looking at me like that when he’s the one who walked away. When he’s the one who kept us apart.
“Look at me and say it, Catherine,” he says with an edge, his tether about to snap.
Focusing on a spot on his shoulder, I shake my head and turn back to the scene playing out before me. Ari is now riding the man, and her girlfriend is watching with hungry eyes. The elicit act, combined with the heavy vibrations inside me, sends heat ricocheting through my body as my orgasm starts to crest.
Jay draws the hair from my neck and kisses up my bare shoulder to my ear. “You want my cock inside you, Kitten?”
I drop my head back to his shoulder again, giving him more access to my neck. “Please,” I beg.
“I need your eyes, then.”
“You said you wouldn’t take anything from me.”
He sucks in a breath.
I got him there. He wants my orgasm. He wants my eyes. He promised he’d take nothing, but the second I look at him, he’ll know I’ve got nothing left to take. He already has it all. He’s had it since the day I met him. I have nothing to give, because Jay took my heart and never gave it back.
He owns me, and all I own is anger. For just a few minutes, I’d like to forget that.
“Fine,” he says. It’s a soft breath against my clavicle. “But not here.”
He drags me away from the spectacle, out of the light, and leads me to the darkness. Under the protection of the shadows, he presses me into a room and pushes me against the door. I can’t see a thing, but he’s everywhere. His mouth on my collarbone, one hand on my breast, the other skirting up my leg.
“Fuck, Kitten, I’ve missed the feel of you.”
Me too.
“Make me come,” I say instead.
Jay licks up my neck and tilts my head, angling me so I can’t move. “I’ve waited thirteen years for this mouth. Give me two damn minutes, please,” he says softly, his breath mixing with mine.
Petrified by the idea and yet paralyzed by indecision, I do nothing but wait for the moment his lips ghost against mine. When they do, he hums as if I’m an old song he’s just recognized playing on the radio. His favorite one. And then he grinds his hips against me so I feel every inch of his want. Every ounce of his need. And then his tongue hits the slit of my mouth, begging for entrance, and for the first time in thirteen years, I taste him.
His lips are soft, his kiss pure passion. Surprise and salvation nip at my lips. Unable to experience this as a passive participant, I drag both hands up his chest and shoulders and around to the back of his head. Raking my fingers through his hair, I pull him closer, needing him every bit as much as he needs me. “Tu me manques,” I whisper against his lips, unable to stop the words from tumbling out.
Jay’s brows pinch together, but I cover his lips with mine before he can question me. As we kiss, his thick cock rubs against my aching clit, the friction almost amplifying the vibrations inside me. That’s all it takes to trigger my orgasm, but it takes on an almost dangerous level of heat from his lips on mine. From the way his fingers sear me, even through layers of clothing, as he simply holds me. From the feel of our bodies melded so close together.
There’s a reason the French call it le petit morte. The feel of him is like dying and going to heaven. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough when it comes to Jay.
Even as my orgasm subsides, I beg for his touch. “I need more,” I pant as he kisses me softly. “I need you inside me.”
His mouth ghosts against mine as he shakes his head. “Not until you’re mine, Kitten.”
With a groan, I drop my head back against the door. That was surface level. It barely touched the ache within my body, even if it was the best orgasm I’ve had in a very long time.
Because it’s him.
Always him.
Only him.
His fingers ghost up my legs and between my thighs, and we both groan when he slips inside my panties and coats one finger in my desire. “Oh Catherine, it’d be so easy to have you right here. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me fuck you silly. Probably bare,” he says like the cocky asshole he is.
And yet he’s not wrong.
I’ve only ever had one man inside me there…and I want him so badly. I’ve missed him so intensely.
“Fuck you,” I respond, but there’s no bite.
