Page 119 of Failure to Match

“Jackson…” It was barely a whisper. I didn’t have the strength to use my full voice. “Please.”

He knew exactly what I was asking for. His semihard cock twitched inside me, giving him away. He enjoyed the pleading, the consensual imbalance of power, just as much as I did.

“Didn’t you come enough last night?” he teased. “Don’t you think it’s my turn?”

I swallowed, clinging on to the very last thread of sanity I possessed.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

There was a long pause before he said, “Why are you sorry?”

“Because… I don’t know if you got to finish, and I should have checked before passing out.” I mean, I waspretty surehe’d gotten there, but I couldn’t know for certain.

A low, dark laugh rumbled out of his chest. “I definitely finished. That’s how fucking good you taste, Jamie. It made me spill in my pants like a teenager.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I bit my lip, stifling another moan.

“You should put that in my file.” It was a dare. “When you pick out my wife, you should let her know my favorite kink is eating you out. Tell her I love the taste of your pussy so much that it’s all I’ll be able to think about whenever I get myneeds met.”

What was he doing?

And why did it make me throb around him?

“Tell her that if you’d agreed to marry me, you’d have woken up with my head buried between your thighs every single fucking morning. Let her know that while she has to beg for me to touch her, you had to beg for me to stop. That’s how maddeningly attracted to you I am, how much I fucking loved eating you out, and I want to make sure she knows it.”

He was fully hard again which, up until that moment, I didn’t realize could happen. My fingers curled into fists as he slowly slid out an inch, then back in.

“Do you think she’ll understand, Jamie? That the reason I won’t lick her pussy is because I know she won’t taste like you?”

Oh my god. I shut my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. Foolishly, I wanted to believe him. Selfishly, I wanted to be the only one he desired. Logically, I knew how incompatible we were.

Still, I loved hearing him say it.

His next thrust was much harder. It might have even hurt if I wasn’t so wet and dripping with his cum. “I want to fucking do it again. I want to tie your wrists to my bed and lick your sweet pussy until you’re begging and pretending like you don’t want me to keep going. I’m fucking rabid for it, Jamie.”

My muscles tensed as he picked up speed, fucking me harder and harder, until we were both fighting for air again.

“How’s this, darling? That edge you were talking about gone yet?”

I hated him. So much.

He had no idea what he was doing to me. How good he felt. How confused I was. How easily his words could be misinterpreted.

“Shut up,” I breathed, which only made him laugh.

“Fuck. Jesus. I’m already close.” His hammering sped up, and no matter how tight the tension in my core twisted, it wasn’t enough to push me over the edge. I was in agony.

Sweet, torturous agony that had me close to tears by the time Jackson twitched and spasmed and groaned through his second release. I loved every bit of it.

Hot liquid spilled out of me when he slowly pulled out, and I whined, protesting the sudden emptiness. It felt strangely foreign and hollow, and I wanted him to fix it. Instead, he zipped up and set my hands free.

No. I wasn’t ready.

“Look at you.” He ran the tips of his fingers over the curve of my ass and huffed a dark, amused chuckle when I quivered. “Two full loads of my cum and your greedy little fuckhole’s still pulsating for more. Who knew my sweet girl would turn out to be such a needy slut?”

My freed fingers curled into the duvet as I bit back an embarrassingly loud cry. There was a good chance I’d climax if he just kept talking. It was like he had a roadmap of my secret buttons and was intent on smashing them all, one after another.

The bedside drawer opened, and I knew. He’d looked this morning.

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