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A beat.
He tugs me toward him. I can feel the heat radiating off his body and I stumble into him.
“I have absolutely no problem satisfying women, Mel. Sounds to me like you’ve spent an awful lot of time thinking about my sex life.”
“N-no,” I stutter, gripping the front of his jacket to steady myself. “Been there, done that.” It comes out as a light scoff, but it doesn’t matter.
The reminder that we’ve done this before—been intimate—is like a switch flipping.
All of a sudden, I’m falling right back into the addictive habit of Jenson Sharpe.
He drops my wrist and wraps an arm around me, pulling me tightly against him. I gasp and his eyes darken further somehow, his lips dipping to drag across my pulse. A whimper escapes, but it’s enough.
He definitelyhas notforgotten how to do this. I, on the other hand, barely manage to clutch at his shoulders as he lifts me and strides toward the California king bed, tossing me expertly onto it. The dress rides up my thighs, exposing my underwear.
“Really? A thong, Mel? In this dress?”
I blush even as his hand delves between my legs, tugging the panties aside and grazing my pussy.
“I forgot how lascivious your taste in dresses is.” It comes out as a breathy complaint, one that makes him chuckle. Jenson buries his face between my breasts and at the feel of his tongue dragging between them, I let out another whimper. Spread my legs.
“I don’t hear any complaints about intimacy now,” he taunts.
With a groan, my head drops back. He tugs the thong down my legs and tosses it somewhere behind him in the room, which is lit only from the foyer lighting. It outlines him in a golden hue that makes him look divine as he kneels between my legs.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.” His belt buckle clinks. I hear thesnickas he pulls the leather through the loops, and he tosses that aside, too. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no.”
As if he’s been unleashed, Jenson surges forward, heaving me up and settling me on his lap. His back is against the headboard now and my legs are spread on either side of his hips. His hand delves between my legs again, thumb rubbing my clit in tight circles that make me moan.
“You’ve been killing me in this dress all night,” he mutters, face buried in my tits again.
“What? Why? You chose this.”
“I know. I chose it because I knew you’d look incredible in it.”
His free hand pushes the slit up my thigh, exposing me even more. Without warning, Jenson gently bites at my nipples at the same time he pumps too fingers into me.
Lightning buzzes up my spine and I automatically try to ride his hand, making a sound of disappointment when he steadies me.
A deep, dark chuckle erupts that only gets me more wet. “Behave. Or I won’t finish this.”
My mind spins. He wouldn’t, would he? I’m about to lecture him about cruel threats when his fingers start to move again, curling and pumping, immediately finding that sweet spot inside that makes me melt.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Mmm. Did you think I forgot, Mel?”
Of course he didn’t. This is something we practiced many, many times before. In the back of his car, in my bed on nights he snuck in, once even in the stairwell at school after hours.
“Just like that,” I gasp, grinding against him as his other hand grips an ass cheek. “Take these off.” I tug at his boxers, very obviously tented with an erection, and feel him shake his head against my breasts as he licks and nips teasingly across my chest.
“W-why not?”
“This isn’t about me.” It’s a low, insistent growl, and as he says it he picks up the pressure, steadies the pace. His thumb presses against my clit insistently, pulling away as soon as I feel myself starting to come undone. With a sound of protest, I grasp his shoulder lightly, bringing out that dark laugh again.
“Want it, Mel?”
