Page 132 of To Love Jason Thorn

He slowed his movements and I managed tostop trembling underneath him. His teeth grazed my shoulder and another shiverwent through my body. I was a mess.

“Ah, sweetheart… The sounds you make whenyou come for me? So fucking dirty.”

A deep thrust from him and a shamelessmewling from me.

“I love it. I can feel it my bones. And theway you clench on my cock, the way you pull me in? It kills me every singlefucking time.” He kissed my neck and gently slapped my ass, pulling a gasp outof me. “I think we are caught up on the orgasms. Do you want me to lick you allclean again, as I’m guessing from the sounds they are making they are doingtoo, or do you want to ride me?”

He pulled out of me, but his heat didn’tleave my body.

“Have to say, my vote is on you riding me,baby. I want to watch your face when you come all over my cock. I can alwayslick you clean at the end.”

I didn’t make him ask twice. While we couldstill hear the guy licking his girl, I pushed Jason onto his back and sunk downon his cock.

“Yes, sweetheart. Oh, fuck! Yes. Just likethat, Olive. Take it all in, baby.” My hands found the headboard and withoutplaying around, I started riding him. I was all shaky and definitely wasmuttering some obscenities at some point, but it was all perfect. Being withhim felt perfect. Our kind of perfect.

Beautiful.

Just like I’d always dreamed.

When I came all over him, I let him watchwhat he did to me, what he gave to me.

Everything.

***

“If I’m not helping you with your researchin one way or another the next time you’re writing a sex scene, I think we’regonna have problems sweetheart.”

At the end, we had held on longer than theaudio couple, I had come more times than I could count or remember, and eachtime I’d been louder than her.

We had definitely won, on all counts.

“I think I’m having a stroke or something.I can’t feel certain body parts.”

Jason chuckled and his finger trailed downfrom my shoulder toward my hip. I was already half passed out and lying on myface. When his finger hit the curve of my ass, he pushed the covers off my backand his hand started massaging. I tried to wiggle away from his hand, butbefore I could...

“Hey,” he admonished me with a seriousvoice. “You’re staying right there.”

I groaned. “If you start doing that, I willstart feeling things, and I’m not sure I’m functioning enough for that.”

Continuing to massage my ass firmly, hekissed my neck and shushed me. “Thank god the audio doesn’t replay itself; it’sdangerous to listen something like that with you around.”

“Mmmm,” I mumbled, acting like I washalf-asleep.

“Come on,” he said in an amused tone.“Don’t get shy with me. I love that you like playing. You were burning for methe entire time. I bet hearing them be so vocal didn’t hurt either.”

He gathered me up in his arms and I nestledagainst his chest. It wasn’t even seven o’clock, but I snuggled in closer.

When I didn’t make any comments, hechuckled again and brushed a kiss on my temple. “Okay, have it your way. Fornow. What did you do today? I missed you on set.”

“Lucy came over for an hour or so.” Then Iremembered that I hadn’t asked his permission for that. “Is that okay? Hercoming over?”

“Of course it’s okay for your friends tocome over, Olive. You don’t need my permission for that.”

“But I know you said you don’t like havingpeople in your personal space.”

“I meant industry people. Unfortunately, Idon’t have that many friends. It’s hard to trust people when you are out in theopen as much as I am, and since I prefer a relatively quieter life , I don’thave that many people close to me. Speaking of friends, there is someone I metvery early in my career, Devlin. He lives in New York so I don’t get to see himthat often, but he is opening up a club/lounge here and he invited us. Wouldyou like to go? We can invite your friends, too. I feel bad that you’re havingtrouble meeting with them without a sea of cameras following you around.”

I extricated myself from his arms, pulledthe cover over myself to make sure nothing was showing, and stared at theceiling.

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