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Something shifts. He slides down my body, and then something wet and hot envelops my clit.
He continues to fuck my mouth as he plays with my clit. Licking it, kissing it.
It’s not enough.
I make a noise of frustration, and I grip his hips. To pull him closer or push him off, I don’t know. But I dig my nails into his ass, and I sure fucking hope I draw blood.
“Oh, baby,” he chuckles. “I want to feel you scream around my cock.”
His teeth scrape my clit, and I buck. I shiver. He’s still somehow face-fucking me, even with his mind on whatever insane goal he has planned.
I’m going out of my mind.
He bites.
And I do scream. It comes out muffled around his cock, and my teeth skim his shaft before I realize.
Doesn’t matter.
Or maybe the pain gets him off, because his balls tighten, and he’s sucking and licking at my clit as he spills down my throat. It triggers my orgasm. Him, or the pain—maybe both. I cry out again, my body tensing. Pleasure detonates through me, and only when it releases me do I sag to the floor.
He carefully pulls out and climbs off me.
I suck in huge gulps of air through my nose, blowing out through my mouth. Like my freaking therapist taught me. She probably didn’t mean for it to be used post-sex. I lick my lips. I taste blood and cum.
“That’s it.” Jacob scoops me up.
I barely register that I’m in the air, being carried, until we’re in the shower. The warm water rains down on us, plastering my hair to my skin and washing away all of it.
“I—”
He kisses me.
It’s not too hard or too fast or too demanding. Although one could argue his whole personality is demanding, this kiss is anything but. It’s asking a question.
“You’re perfect,” he says against my lips.
“What?”
He sets me on the little bench in his shower and picks up a bottle of shampoo. I don’t recognize it until I catch its scent.
I grab the bottle and inspect the label.
It’s nothing I’ve used before… that I know of. But the smell tickles something in the back of my brain. Something just out of reach.
He lathers it in his palms and runs it through my hair. He scratches my scalp, and I automatically close my eyes. I relax against him, my shoulder on his chest, and let out a sigh. It’s funny—I don’t even know what time it is. All I know is that I called Lucy after getting settled at the library apartment. I used the last of my dollars on a sandwich from the gas station on the corner.
There were no plans beyond that.
“How did you find me?”
He snickers.
I look up at him, frowning. He’s too fucking handsome. His dark hair is slicked back, and his blue eyes beat into mine with the steadfast intensity. His brows raise. Telling me that maybe I should already know how he found me.
“I never left you,” he says.
My heart skips.
