Page 56 of Jenna's Protector

The kiss intensifies.

The kitchen fades away into background noise as we lose ourselves in each other completely. Nothing else matters except this moment—the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against mine, and the sweet smell of her arousal.

“Is this really happening?” A soft laugh escapes her. “I’m not dreaming?”

“Not a dream.” The air around us crackles and sparks as I press my body firmly against hers.

She pulls back from the kiss just enough to catch her breath, her chest heaving in rhythm with my own labored breathing. Our eyes lock in a silent exchange, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Confident this is what she wants, I trace the hem of her pajama top, fingers dancing underneath the buttery-smooth fabric to encounter the warm, silken texture of her bare skin.

I may have found heaven.

She shivers at the contact, goosebumps blossoming across her flesh in the wake of my exploring hands. With a deftness born of urgency and desire, I slip her top over her head to reveal her intoxicating and very bare breasts.

Her skin is warm and inviting, and I take full advantage to tease the swell of her generous breasts with my hands and then my mouth. She arches against me, thrusting her tits against my face.

Flicking my tongue over a stiffening nipple, I relish the way she begs for more.

I acquiesce, lavishing attention on her full breasts, sucking gently at one pert nipple before lathing the other with the same attention.

Sensations rocket through her body, causing her hips to undulate beneath me. As I switch back and forth between her hardenedpeaks, I slip a hand down her stomach, trailing my fingertips along the feminine curve of her waist and around her hip.

From there, I skim my hand along her creamy skin from her hip, along her outer thigh, and all the way to her knee, loving the feel of her skin against the roughness of my hand. Then, I move back up, along the inside of her knee, to her inner thigh, and all the way to her very core.

Her scent is intoxicating as I inch my way down her quivering form, drawing me in like a bee to honey. My lips leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses from her delicate collarbone to the dip of her navel.

Jenna’s breath becomes ragged as I tease the sensitive skin at her hip.

With a devilish grin, I swirl my fingers around the apex of her thigh, sweeping closer and closer to her core without actually touching her there.

She gasps as I lift her hips and relieve her of the constraints of her pajama bottoms. Cool air greets her damp folds, making her gasp. But that gasp is short-lived as my mouth finally finds its way to her core.

Tentatively, I graze my tongue along her swollen labia, eliciting a low moan from deep within her chest. Encouraged by her response, I delve deeper, lapping up every drop of her sweet nectar.

Her taste is exquisite, a blend of arousal and the unique essence that is purely Jenna. My hands roam her body, fingertips dancing across the softness of her skin like a maestro conducting a symphony of want and need. The crescendo builds within her as I focus my attention on her clit.

Her thighs tremble, and her moans turn to needy cries. With gentle determination, I suck on her clit, grazing it with my teeth and then soothing it with my tongue in an intoxicating rhythm that has Jenna writhing beneath me.

She’s close; I can tell by the way her breath hitches and by the way she grasps and pulls at my hair, pulling me closer.

I replace one hand at her breast, thumb circling a taut nipple while the other hand delves into her folds, slipping two fingers insideto stroke the velvety walls that clench around me. Her moans morph into a symphony of passion as she arches against me, seeking an even deeper connection.

I pick up the pace, flicking my tongue fervently while my fingers curl within her, finding that tender spot that turns her moans into cries of ecstasy. Her legs lock around me as her body tenses like a bowstring drawn tight.

Then she shatters, a wave of sensations tumbling through her as her orgasm rips through her body. Jenna’s cries of pleasure fill the room with their primal melody while she convulses around my fingers and against my mouth, riding out the intense pleasure that consumes her entirely.

I continue to worship her until the final tremors fade away. Her grip on my hair loosens. Her chest heaves as she attempts to catch her breath. A fine sheen of perspiration glistens across her skin.

Her eyes flutter open after a moment of silent recovery, finding mine filled with adoration and an undeniable hunger for more.

My heart pounds like a tribal drum because her hands are not idle. They weave into my hair, tugging with impatience and need. I stand between her legs, our bodies speaking their own language—one composed of breaths, movements, and whispers that could be words or just expressions of pleasure.

Her hands shift lower, fingers scrabbling for the waistband of my briefs. Between one moment and the next, she frees me, and all I can feel is the heat of her hands holding my very erect and very eager cock.

Her fingers trace down my turgid length, tracing the ridges of engorged veins. Her touch sends ripples of pleasure through me that pool in places yearning for her touch. Every sensation is magnified—the smooth texture of the countertop, the scent of mingled perfumes and raw passion, and most overwhelming of all, the warmth of Jenna’s hand as she strokes me toward pleasure.

Her touch is tender yet determined. Her grasp tightens, then releases, in a rhythm that echoes in my heart. Her hand moves up and down my cock, her thumb exploring the sensitive undersidebefore curling around to circle the tip. My toes curl, and a low groan escapes me.

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