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It sends bolts of lust through me, makes me want to draw my legs closed to ease the pressure building again inside me.
He sits back on his knees, shuddering when I put the condom on him. He’s panting heavily, his small nipples drawn into tight points, his abs clenching deliciously when I roll the latex over his cock.
“God, I need…” He barely waits until I’m done, then he pushes me back down and bends over me. “Can’t wait any fucking longer.”
I can’t, either. I run my hands over his tattooed arms, over his heaving sides, miles of smooth skin stretched over hard muscle. “Yes,” I whisper.
This time when he pushes inside me, inch by inch, I think I’ll die of pleasure. The stretching, too-full feeling is there, but it only dials up the sensations. His cock rubs me so deep inside, just the right way, hitting every sweet spot—and it’s Jarett holding himself over me, dark hair falling in his eyes, sweat rolling down his sculpted chest, muscles straining in his arms as he pushes himself up, then thrusts back inside me.
Oh my God. “Rett,” I whisper, “Rett…”
My Jarett.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jarett
She’s so damn tight, and hot, and I’m losing my mind. The need to move faster, thrust harder is driving me up the wall, but I also wanna draw this pleasure out, this moment when I’m inside her, when she’s incoherent with des
ire and moaning my name, when everything’s as it should be.
And damn, I want her to come again, come with me.
Spread underneath me, all creamy skin and taut nipples, soft curves and loose pale hair, she’s all my fantasies rolled into one. She’s mine, and I can’t fucking believe we’re doing this, rocking on her bed, in the half-dark, trying to keep quiet, trying to take it slow.
And failing when she wraps her legs around my hips and starts rocking, moaning something I can’t make out. The shift in angle means I slip in deeper, and I gasp, my control shattering.
“Damn…” My arms tremble as I attempt to pull back from the brink of what promises to be a mind-blowing orgasm. “Slow down, girl.”
But her hips keep rocking, and she’s making those irresistible little noises. I realize she’s close, so close to coming she can’t stop, like me—so I free one hand to reach between us and stroke her clit.
Two strokes, that’s all it takes on the swollen little nub, and she’s crying out, trembling, her back arching off the bed and nails scratching down my arms.
Fuck. I slam my mouth over hers to keep her quiet, and she tightens around my dick so hard I see stars.
I groan, the sound muffled on her lips, my cock swelling more until I can’t fucking stand it anymore, and then it jerks, my ass and balls clenching as I shoot my load. I empty myself inside her, the pleasure that’s wracking me sharply like pain.
The pleasure goes on and on. I lose track of time. I can’t stop thrusting inside her tight heat, coming so hard I hope the condom won’t burst.
I could put a baby in her. Marry her, make her really mine.
The thought sends ice through me, drains the rest of the pleasure away. I pull out of her carefully, not to hurt her, and tie up the condom, avoiding her gaze.
“Rett? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I roll out of bed, glance around for a waste basket, locate it beside her messy desk and get rid of the used condom.
She’s tugging down her nightgown when I return to bed, and fuck, I can’t.
I can’t tell her this was a mistake.
Doesn’t feel like one. And I feel so many strange things for her, things I never thought I could feel for anyone so deeply, so strongly. Things that are turning me inside out.
“Scoot over,” I tell her, and climb back inside, then pull her into my arms. Where she belongs. She sighs, turning so that she’s facing me, slipping her arm over my hip and burying her face in my chest. “You okay?”
She hums, a small satisfied sound that makes me grin. Then she asks, “When you said you don’t like me earlier... when you said that’s too weak a word, what did you mean?”
I stare over her blond head at the far wall, the slats throwing bright lines on it, and I wonder if it’s moonlight spilling through. “Gigi…”
