Page 38 of Forbidden Desires

He continued rutting against me, and I writhed beneath him, thrusting up against his cock, too, the friction finally giving me what I needed to scale my way right back up to the precipice of my orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he ordered, lifting his head to stare down at me. “However many times you want. Just know I’m not stopping until I get my fill of you.”

Permission finally granted, the flood gates opened. My back arched and sparks ignited as I came apart, the drag of his cock all along every inch of my sex, against my clit, ignited deep waves of pleasure that made my entire body shudder beneath his.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, brushing the hair away from my flushed face with his fingers as he watched me fly apart, even as he continued thrusting faster, driving his dick back and forth through my now soaked pussy. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

Even as I came down from the high, he increased the rocking motion of his hips. His breathing grew harsh, his jaw clenching as he growled deep in his throat.

“Fuck,” he snarled, bracing himself on his forearms beside me as he lifted up, his hips jerking more erratically, then spurts of thick fluid streaking across my stomach as he came with a low, guttural groan.

His eyes closed, just for a moment as his orgasm ebbed and he caught his breath before they opened again, capturing mine. He kept me in that hold, smirking now as he moved his hips again, sliding his cock through the cum stained mess on my stomach, then shifting lower, positioning his shaft right back between my legs again. Still shockingly hard, he slammed into me, stretching me in the most delicious, decadent way.

God, despite everything, I’d missed this. I’d missedhim.

We groaned in unison at the sweet, sweet sensation of being together again like this. I grabbed onto his dress shirt, fisting the fabric in my hands as I locked my legs around his waist and rolled my lower body against his, still needing more.

“Harder,” I begged shamelessly. “Deeper.”

Heat and hunger and lust blazed in his eyes as he gave me what I wanted, fucking into me like a jackhammer. Relentlessly. Mercilessly. Nearly splitting me in two with the force of his driving, punishing thrusts that doled out equal pain, along with exquisite pleasure. Nothing else existed but Eric’s body, his cock, his whole presence, burrowing deep inside of me, possessing and claiming all of me like I was his and his alone.

My head fell back as another round of bliss ignited deep inside of me and I spasmed around his cock, milking him, giving him every reason to follow me right over the edge. He wasn’t far behind, cursing and groaning, his body shuddering through his own intense release, until he was finally spent and collapsed on top of me.

We lay in silence as our breathing returned to normal, and I closed my eyes and threaded my fingers through his hair, relishing this moment between us. After a while, he moved off me and went into the adjoining bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. I let him tend to my sore flesh and clean me up, allowed him to pick up my boneless body, then set me back down at the top of the mattress so that my head was on the pillows.

I honestly expected him to leave after that, and wouldn’t have been surprised if he had since nothing was really resolved between us. But instead, he quietly stripped off all his clothes, pulled back the covers so I could get beneath them, then joined me.

Without a word, he pulled me against his chest, and because I was so damn weak when it came to Eric, I nestled right in, like we hadn’t spent a month apart. As if he hadn’t shaken up myemotions in ways I wasn’t sure how to put them back together again when it came to him.

I knew we’d have to have a proper conversation instead of the bickering arguments we’d engaged in this evening, but I felt too sated and relaxed and didn’t have the energy to have that kind of serious discussion right then.

For now, I was happy having Eric beside me, and as he gently stroked my back and my eyes fluttered shut, it didn’t take me long to drift away into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 16

Eric

It wasn’t often that I found myself losing control of any kind, which I’d always seen as a weakness. But Jasmine had a way of stripping away my normal ability to remain cool under pressure and shook up my resolve in a way that no one ever had.

Then again, I’d learned in New York just how easy it was to unravel around her, to let all of the messy emotional issues that I’d always kept compartmentalized and under a tightly sealed lid, out into the open when those were things I did not discuss. With anyone.

There was something about Jasmine that was easy to open up to and trust, an undefinable something that stripped away my defenses and revealed vulnerabilities I didn’t like to think about or address—which I’d had in spades during our trip to visit my parents. It had been those irrepressible emotions she’d so effortlessly unlocked that had kept me in a chokehold for thepast month, in turn making me keep my distance so I didn’t grow even more fond of her than I already had.

There was no denying that night with Jasmine had left me feeling raw and exposed and shook me up in ways I hadn’t been able to sort through. There had been a sense of panic afterward for laying myself so bare in front of her, and I was not a man prone to uncontrollable fear or anxiety.

I’d struggled with that “fight or flight” instinct, and the latter had won. Withdrawing from the situation, from Jasmine, had been the course of action I’d chosen to take. For me, it had been all about self-preservation, because I’d had no idea how to deal with the upheaval I’d felt after that very intimate night with her in New York. But in doing so, my selfish actions had hurt her, and that had been the last thing I’d wanted to do.

Looking down at her now, in the early morning light and curled so trustingly against my side, I knew I wanted to have more of a conversation today than the angry fucking that had transpired last night. Admittedly, that rough, unbridled sex had been a catharsis of sorts. A way of releasing tension and frustration and the confusion that had held me in its grip for weeks. Being with her again had felt so good, but I knew that sex was not going to resolve our underlying issues. And as difficult as it might be, mostly for me, she deserved an explanation for my distant behavior the past month.

I softly brushed her dishevelled hair out of her face, smirking at the slight, complaintive snort that left her. Gently, not wanting to wake her just yet, I eased away from her, keeping her on her side so she snuggled into her pillows and blankets, and headed out of her room.

This was the first time I’d ever been in her apartment. It was always my place, or a hotel near a venue. There was a warm, homey difference between my penthouse and this space that Jasmine had all to herself. There were pieces of art along herbedroom walls that, upon closer inspection, I saw were signed by her and dated seven or more years back.

She favored paint on canvas, it seemed. I smiled, fingers brushing over a piece that had splashes of neon against a pitch-black background. I remembered an idle comment she’d made during one of our earlier gallery dates that she no longer painted, and I wondered why when she was clearly very talented.

After perusing a few more images, I headed into the adjoining bathroom. I had no change of clothes, but washing off the remnants of last night’s activities wasn’t off the table. I showered, quick but methodical. Finished, I found a clean towel in her cabinet, dried, and made my way back to her room. She was still sleeping. I grabbed my boxers and slid them on, not bothering for now with the rest of my clothes before heading out again—toward the kitchen.

There wasn’t a full-service kitchen in Jasmine’s apartment, but there were plenty of ingredients to be found. Brown eggs, fresh vegetables, cheeses, spices when I dug through the spice rack, and bread on the counter that would toast well with some butter in a pan on the stove. Knowing how much Jasmine loved a hearty breakfast after an intense, passionate night, I set to work, enjoying the process. I think Jasmine had yet to get used to the fact that I liked to cook for her, and I realized that was in part the satisfaction that I got from doing it.

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