Page 54 of The Wrong Promise

He trails kisses over my cheek, down my neck, and to my shoulder, so I tilt my head, giving him access to my skin. My mind battles… I should tell him to stop.

His lips move to my ear. “I need to taste you, Zara.”

My stomach flips, and all my thoughts stop. Arousal rushes through my body, and I’m beyond stopping it. I push up, wrapping my hands around his neck and my legs around his waist, kissing him hard.

With two hands under my ass, Jobe carries me to hisbedroom, where he kicks the door open and places me on his bed. His lips stay on mine as he huddles over me, undoing my shirt buttons. I start from the bottom button and meet him halfway, pulling my shirt over my shoulders, my breasts spilling over my bra. Jobe runs his hands over my skin and bra, trailing his hands behind my back and unclipping my bra. He slowly slides it off, staring at my bare chest, taking all of me in as he does. I sit forward and fiddle with the buttons of his jeans, but Jobe swats my hands away.

“Be patient.”

“Not one of my stronger traits,” I reply.

He makes light work of my pants and pulls them off. I’m lying on my back in only my panties, staring at the bulge in his jeans pushing against the band.

He moves away from me, his expression now tight. “Is this what you want, Zara?”

I nod, my eyes heavy with desire for him.

“I’m giving you a chance to gather your thoughts and consider what is happening.”

What is happening besides we are about to fuck?

Oh, he’s giving me time to say no. I did tell him multiple times this would be a huge mistake, but the way my body is screaming to be touched means I want him inside me now. Drunk on arousal, I don’t care if this is for one night or one week. Ineedhim tonight. I meet his gaze and hold it. “I want this.”

He nods slowly and waits a few more seconds before sliding his jeans and silk boxers down his glorious thighs. Long, lean, muscular thighs. The best legs I’ve ever seen. His family’s beautiful olive complexion is evident in his legs covered by trousers every day.

When was the last time he sat on a beach and enjoyed the calm in the warmth?

He strokes his beautiful cock. “What is it?”

I shake my head. Why am I thinking about that now? I hold out my arms for him, but he pulls my ankles, so I slide closer to the edge, then he pries my knees open, kneeling beside the bed. He lays one kiss over my clit, and even through the thin material, I feel it. It sends a shudder through my core, the anticipation almost unbearable.

His eyes rake over me, a yearning between us. He slips one finger under the band of my panties and slides it over my wet slit. His touch is torturous, slow, and delicate. When he pushes one finger inside, I arch, seeking more.

“Yes,” I moan out, tilting my hips. He withdraws, and before I can whimper in protest, he adds another, my thighs shaking. When he pulls back again, he slides another finger in, then pumps slowly, the stretch exactly what I need, and he hits the spot immediately. “Faster,” I demand on a moan.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he growls out before leaning up and bracing himself over me, kissing my cheek. Then his mouth is on mine. “I’ve got this, angel.”

Angel.

His tongue moves between my lips and twirls with mine. His fingers are working me, and the orgasm is building faster than I want, and I can barely concentrate. He breaks the kiss, his mouth moving to my breast. He toys with one nipple, sucking and nipping before shifting to the other. My back arches, my body surging at the intimacy of his touch. I take his head and hold it between my hands as though I have some control over him. The truth is, I have none. His thumb presses on my clit while his fingers pump and circle at an incredible speed. Lost to the bliss, I cry out as I come, lifting my hips off the bed before I fall limp onto the sheets.

Jobe slips off the bed and slides my drenched panties down my thighs, tossing them toward the wall. He lifts my legs over his shoulders then his hot mouth is on my pussy, licking and groaning as he tastes my orgasm. “So fuckingbeautiful,” he whispers. “So sexy.” He licks and sucks my clit and toys with me as though I’m his shiny new toy, and he can’t get enough of me. I squirm and bolt my hips as smaller orgasms ripple over me, one after the other.

Sitting up, I run my fingers through his hair and tug. “I need you now,” I whisper.

To my relief, he doesn’t hesitate. He reaches and opens his drawer, pulling out a condom.

Anxiously, I lay back and wait as I watch him roll it over his thick erection. Since I’m on my back, I consider if this is too vanilla for him. I don’t recall much of our first time. All I have to go by is gossip and the fact he mentioned multiple partners at once. My insecurities start to bubble, but before they have time to rise, he kneels between my thighs.

“Open your legs wider, Zara.” He stares at my pussy while he strokes himself. I force my legs wide until my inner thighs tighten. He smiles. “Fucking beautiful,” he growls out, then he guides himself to my entrance and leans over me, his biceps tensing as he braces his weight, his face strained in what looks like a grimace.

“Are you okay?” I murmur as he slides out slowly and pushes in again, allowing my pussy to adjust to the size of him.

“Areyouokay?” he counters, and I nod.

He pushes deeper, this time a little faster.

“You looked like you were in pain?”

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