Page 72 of Loathe at First Sight

And there he is…in all of his tattooed glory.

There’s something so sexy about a guy who has tattoos. Granted, I haven’t been with a tatted guy since I was in college. Even then, dating the blue-collar, rugged guy wasn’t exactly my speed. I’m starting to see the appeal, though.

Jack looks like he could fuck me up against the wall…one-handed…without breaking a sweat.

When he sees me looking him up and down and biting my lip, he gets a cocky smirk on his lips. “What are you thinking about, princess?”

Suddenly, hearing the nickname that I’ve hated ever since I got back to town is doing something entirely different to me.

Am I starting to like it?

Trying to keep my composure, I reply, “Just wondering what’s taking you so long to get naked. Are you stalling?”

The half-grin he gets on his face tells me I’m about to be in for a wild ride. He quickly undoes the button on his jeans followed by the zipper. When he takes them off, his boxers come with him, and I watch his cock pop out. It bounces before standing at attention.

Just like the rest of Jack, it’s big. Not too big that I wonder if it will fit, but big enough to where I know it’s going to feel amazing.

Let’s just hope he knows how to use it.

He walks over to his nightstand and pulls out a pack of magnum-sized condoms. It takes no time at all for him to rip open the tiny package and roll it on over the large head of his cock.

He joins me back on the bed, and we pick right back up where we left off. His mouth crashes on mine, and our hands roam all over each other. I can feel every hard muscle of his under my touch.

I’m so preoccupied with our kiss that I’m surprised when I feel his dick start to push inside. I wrap my legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. I moan against his kiss which seems to drive him crazy.

When he’s buried to the hilt, he holds still for a moment, looking down at me to make sure I’m okay. Truth be told, I’m better than okay. This is the first time in over a year that I feel a sense of overwhelming joy. I didn’t think that the man who has been driving me crazy would be the one to give me any type of happiness. But here we are.

I look into his green eyes, seeing lust. Pure, carnal lust. But I see something else too. I’m just not quite sure what it is.

“Fuck me, Jack,” I whisper.

Something within him snaps, and he gets to work. Taking control, he fucks into me hard and fast. When I can’t figure out what to do with my hands, he props them above my head, holding them there with one of his own. He uses the other to hold himself up and get better leverage.

In most of the sexual encounters I’ve had, I take the lead. I’d rather control the situation. And the men I’ve been with have never tried to do anything to the contrary.

But Jack is a whole different breed. He’s all passion and primal instincts.

I have zero complaints.

When he finds the rhythm that makes my moans turn more into screams, he leans down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip, making my back arch off the bed.

He pushes my legs further apart and grinds against me with every thrust, moving perfectly against my clit.

“Holy shit,” I moan, feeling myself climbing higher and higher.

This man is going to give me an orgasm just from fucking me. I’ve gotten off during sex before but only with the help of some fingers or a toy thrown into the mix. But the way that he’s moving is sure to finish the job.

When I start to get louder, he lets my hand go so that I can hold onto him for dear life as I start to come. Waves of pleasure crash over me as heat spreads through every inch of my body.

Once I’m coming back down, Jack slows his movements, allowing me a moment to catch my breath.

Between giving a few licks to each of my nipples, he says, “Tell me what you want, Liz.”

Only one word is needed right now.

“More.”

twenty-five

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