Page 88 of Surrender

A blush burns my cheeks.

“You have a gorgeous pussy.” His finger slips out, and I clench around the loss. He traces up to my clit, swirling the wet digit around the sensitive bundle before running it along the outer lips. “Swollen. Pink. Wet. Waiting for me to fill it.”

I’m acutely aware of his eyes feasting on my most intimate parts. I fight the urge to tighten my thighs and dispute the compliment. Doesn’t he know that I had two kids? That things don’t look the same down there anymore? I rest my cheek against the cushion and open my mouth. Only a silent gasp releases as he runs his tongue along my slit.

He moves away. The condom wrapper crinkles, and then he’s there, lining himself up. “Are you ready for me, beautiful?”

All thoughts of self-consciousness vanish as his thick erection presses against me. His words swallow the doubts. My skin prickles with anticipation as arousal zips through me like a strike of lightning. “Yes. Please.”

He eases his way inside. I appreciate the way he savors the buildup and doesn’t feel the need to ram his way in as if I’m some conquest to claim, even if that’s exactly what he’s doing.

Claiming my body.

Claiming me.

One of his hands grips the back of the couch beside my head. The other wraps around my torso, between my breasts to the opposite shoulder. He yanks my back against his chest. The wiry hairs brush deliciously against my sensitive skin. He presses deeper. As he seats himself fully, pelvis crushed against my ass, he groans gutturally, the sound in his chest vibrating against my back.

“So goddamn tight, baby.” He drops a kiss on my shoulder. “So perfect. Like you were made for my cock.”

He begin to thrust, slow at first, building toward a hard piston of his hips against mine. He holds me tight against his chest, slamming wildly into me, and I throb around him.

“Oh god,” I pant, fingers wrapping around the arm across my chest. My nails dig half-moons into his skin. His next thrust hits something inside that liquifies me. My head rolls back onto his shoulder, and he buries his face in my neck.

“You feel too good, pretty girl.” He thrusts harder, deeper, slamming me down as his hips snap up. “Fuck, I love—”

Time stops.

My eyes widen.

The breath stalls in my chest. His movements turn erratic, his breath ragged in my ear.

“I love fucking you,” he murmurs into my sweaty hair.

I’m still not breathing as my mind tries to work out the words.

I fucking love you.

No.

I lovefuckingyou.

The cinderblock falls away, and I drag in a strangled breath.

“Yes.”

“Need you to come with me. Not going without you.”

Callused fingers slip over my stomach and between my thighs. He finds my clit easily and rubs the delicate nerves.

I reach behind my head and run my fingers through his damp hair. “Keep going.”

He lifts his head, flitting stormy gray eyes over mine. Something swirls there. A hidden emotion I can’t name. I blink, and it’s gone, his lips crashing against mine.

He takes my mouth like he takes my pussy—deep, punishing, and desperate. Those fingers swirl faster, harder over my clit. His actions proving his words that he needs me to fall apart with him.

The coil in my belly cinches tight, higher than ever before. This orgasm might just kill me. I feel myself clench tight and stall, clamped around his cock. It’s as if all time stops with me hovering on the precipice, waiting for the free fall.

Jack thrusts erratically, swelling impossibly hard inside me. He shoves deep, stilling, a guttural growl ripping from his chest as he strokes me almost angrily, shoving me over the edge. A scream tears up my throat, and he smothers it with his hand.

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