Page 23 of Defending What is Mine

Chapter Eleven

Sam:Then—Last August

Jack’s eyes swell to the size of my wineglass as he scans the room. As if he’s looking for someone else who can confirm what he just heard. “Wait a sec. I’m only one beer in, right?” He lifts his bottle to the light to check that it isn’t empty. “I mean…I didn’t drink, like, five or six others and then, somehow forget about them? Because I swear, I thought you just said…”

My response is mixed. A reflection of the internal battle between my desire and my nature. Lust for the man standing before me answers his question with a coy smile and a sultry look. After which, the innate, bashful part of me takes over and sends my eyes to the ground, breaking the momentary understanding that existed in our gaze.

“Sam?” Jack steps in, all but eliminating the buffer of space separating us. “Hey. Is it me, or did something just change?” He caresses my chin with his hand, gently lifting as he tries to bring my focus back to him. “Why won’t you look at me now?”

“I’m sorry,” I reply, while still avoiding eye contact. “I was trying for funny…and maybe a little sexy, and…”

Apparently, that’s the cue he’s been waiting for. A word. A look. Something. Anything to confirm that I’m feeling the same way he is. That I want the same thing he does. Without another moment of hesitation, Jack wraps me in his arms and presses his lips to mine. Such soft, supple, wonderful lips contrasted by his stubble scratching my sensitive skin. How is it possible for them to feel so amazing? My eyes close, and I drape my arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into our embrace. His powerful chest squeezes against my breasts as he holds me tight, and I fucking love it. I open my mouth slightly, allowing his tongue access to mine and he doesn’t hesitate.

Question: How, in the blink of an eye, did we get from awkward to this?

Answer: Who the hell cares?

My knees go weak as his tongue explores my mouth while his hands do the same to my body. A moan slips out, exiting without ever stopping to ask permission. When Jack pulls away, I blink as my nerves come flooding back. “What’s wrong?”

His lust-filled gaze pierces my façade. He sees through the mask I wear for others, straight to my soul. For the first time in my life I don’t feel invisible. Like the real me, the imperfect, insecure, scared, little girl who’s only known hurt from men has been found. Suddenly visible. But not just that, something more. I’ve been seen and deemed worthy. Good. Deserving.

Standing in my living room, I am exposed to him in a way I’ve never known before. I am vulnerable, but not scared. I feel free. He’s broken through my defenses and won the battle. And the only thought left swirling in my head is how badly I want him to take his spoils.

Jack stands confidently in front of me, patiently waiting for the answer to an unspoken question. I don’t know what to say, or how to act, all I can do is nod my consent. Take me. Use me. I don’t care about tomorrow. I don’t care about next week. I only care about now. About here. About him.

His rough hands slide down my back, over my hips, stopping just below my ass. He squeezes gently and lifts me up, guiding my legs around his waist.

With my arms still draped around his neck, Jack begins to carry me toward the couch. “No,” I say, with my mouth still connected to his. “Bedroom.”

He pauses. “You sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

He navigates us through the doorway, careful not to let my legs bump against the jam. When we reach the foot of the bed, he leans forward, slowly lowering me onto my back. So much power. So much strength. So much control. The mere thought of him inside me has my panties soaking.

Jack kicks off his boots and crawls onto the bed, his body hovering over mine, a look of hot desperation in his eyes. It’s almost too much to process. The touch of his hand brushing against my naval as he unfastens my jeans takes my breath away and sets off an explosion of goose bumps across my chest and arms.

I tug at his shirt, pulling the edges out from the waistband of his jeans. “Please,” I murmur. “Take it off.”

Jack sits up and yanks the fabric over his head in one quick motion, obliging my request. “Your turn,” he says with a devilish grin. But I’ve already become distracted by the deliciously hard curves of his bare chest.

I raise my arms to demonstrate my obedience to his command, but now he’s the one distracted, busy wriggling my jeans down over my hips. So, I wrench it off myself and toss it into the darkness. When it’s all said and done our clothes litter the room. One of Jack’s boots is in the doorway. My bra hangs precariously from the lamp. His shirt and jeans are strewn across the foot of the bed. My shirt is…I don’t even know where.

It feels as if I’m sitting outside of my body, watching the scene. The way he moves, his naked, muscular, perfect body dwarfing my own, my pink lace panties balled in his hand. Watching as he brings them to his nose and sniffs. The hunger in his eyes as he breathes my scent and tosses the panties away. But the moment his finger contacts my slit on its way inside me, I’m nothing but sensation. This is real. This is happening. This is…perfect.

I’m lightheaded. Drunk with need as his masculine fingers work their magic, caressing my most sensitive areas. My legs begin to shake, and my eyes flutter closed when his tongue contacts my clit. But Jack doesn’t stop. He spreads me wide, slowly licking up and down, back and forth, taking his time—and driving me over the edge in the process.

I moan my approval, sob my need, scream my want, but it all comes out as one indiscernible mumble of whispers. My voice is gone. As is my ability to think clearly. I’m no longer human. Reduced to a feral animal, running purely on instinct. And every instinct in my body wants to feel him inside me.

It’s only after I let go of the sheets bunched tight in my fists that I realize my hands have gone numb. Apparently, I’ve been squeezing so hard and for so long that they’ve lost all sense of feeling. I reach down and run my tingling fingers through his hair. “I want you…” I manage through a moan.

Jack sits up and reaches for his jeans, retrieving a condom from one of the pockets. He hastily tears it open and slides it over his thick member. When he’s ready, he slips a hand under my waist, lifting my back off the bed slightly, allowing him to move my comforter out of our way. With it tossed aside, he places a pillow under my head and positions himself at my opening. Oh God the way he feels as he enters me. Pain mixes with pleasure as his body stretches and shapes mine. He moves slowly, methodically, maximizing the feeling for both of us.

Jack takes his time, switching positions, teasing my body with the precision of someone used to being in command. I never knew it was possible for sex to feel this good. Is this what other women experience all the time? Where did he learn these magical tricks?

“I want you to come for me Samantha,” he commands, his hands guiding my hips as I rock forward and back above him. “Let go of everything else. I want to feel you let go. Focus on me. Focus on the sensation. Focus on now.”

I’ve already lost count of the orgasms he’s given me tonight. But after all this, to hear that he’s still focused on my satisfaction? I push forward again, grinding hard against him as I do. His body stiffens even more as he meets my grind with a thrust, pushing himself so deep that I can’t hold back a second longer.

“That’s it. Don’t stop. I’m close,” Jack cries out.

His words are the last straw. His hands kneading my breasts combined with the feel of his tongue, drawn slowly across my nipple, sends me into a final, earthshattering orgasm. As my body quivers and quakes, Jack takes control, rolling his hips into me again and again, chasing his own need. He finishes with a low moan that curls my toes. If someone bottled that sound, they’d make a fortune because it’s nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure.

When I lay down beside him in the bed, still heaving to catch my breath and dripping in sweat, I try to speak. “Jack, that was…” I can’t finish the thought. There are no words to describe what just happened to me. I’d have to start making up my own.

When I don’t finish the sentence, Jack rolls over to face me, gently kisses my nose, and pulls me back in to him, holding me tight.

I may never understand how we got here but thank you, God. Thank you! This, this moment, this feeling. This is everything I’ve needed.

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