Page 10 of Saving Jared

Then his lips took hers—hard. Worry over what he might think of her—of how she’d basically thrown herself at him—fled. How could she worry when his fingers dug into her back, dragging her so satisfyingly closer? Her mouth opened on a sighing moan as she wrapped her arms around him, before everything turned soft—his lips, his fingers tracing up and down her spine, her melting heart.

Everythingexcept the unmistakable, steely ridge pressing into her bottom.

Jared.

His breath became her own as his tongue made slow forays into her mouth—her own touch more tentative—while each stroke grew bolder until their shared moans filled her ears. And with those, a certainty rose up inside her. This man, in this place, held more than just her body in his hands. He held her heart. If she hadn’t known it before, she knew it now.

And it wasn’t just the kiss—the one taking over all her senses. It was in the way she had no desire for any other man to take her mouth in this claiming way. To have no other man—ever—to take her to the place where she was overwhelmed by everything he was.

Only Jared.

"Mmm…"

She trembled as his hands found the bottom of her T-shirt and his roughened fingertips traced across her bare skin beneath. God, then his big hands spanned just above her butt. Delicious tremors raced through her before he turned and urged her to her back.

Is this really happening?

That thought scrambled her brain while he pressed her back into the mattress and settled beside her, while those fascinating hands of his trailed around to her front—splaying wide and settling low. Her own hands froze on his shoulders as her pussy clenched and fingernails dug into his flesh at how close his long fingers were to the band of her shorts.

"Touch me," he groaned as his mouth trailed from her lips down over her chin to her neck. So, she did, running her hands over his smooth, firm back. Touching him was…

"Jared," she panted, when he eased her T-shirt up—the glide of his fingers teasing over her clenching abdomen the higher it went—before cool air touched her aching breasts. Her breath stuttered, then left her in a long, low sigh when his head dipped and his wonderful mouth drew on one—his teeth barely nibbling the hard tip.

"Oh… Oh…" She clutched into his hair, pulling at the strands while pushing her breast into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. She had longed to have her fingers running through his locks for years, and they were just as silky as she’d imagined.

But nothing had prepared her for his hand sliding down her quivering belly. Was he going to…

Her legs shifted and parted, gladly opening before his hand delved beneath her shorts and panties. No one had ever touched her so intimately—she’d never allowed it. She jerked at the first contact of his fingers gliding over and around her sensitive flesh. It was beyond anything, but she needed more. Her hips rose and fell with each caress—silently begging for the aching emptiness deep inside her to disappear.

"Oh, Jared. Yes."

He groaned, but not in a pleasurable way as his mouth left her breast and his fingers stilled—leaving her wanting and confused.

"What—"

"I don’t have anything to protect you with."

"I don’t care." She wriggled, trying to get his fingers moving again. She would chance it. But the longer his heavy breath brushed against her skin where he hovered over her, the more she was grateful Jared had kept a calmer head.

It didn’t mean she had to like it.

One of his fingers coasted over her swollen, throbbing bit of flesh, and she nearly came off the bed.

"I can’t take it," she whispered. "Not if we can’t finish."

His light touches—the barely-there sensation of his fingers brushing in a maddening circular motion—set her pulses racing.

"Jared?"

"I can’t leave you like this." He placed a gentle kiss against her lips. "I won’t," he said, adding another finger to the first. "Just let me make you feel good."

His fingers didn’t stop as she held her breath. Then she slowly nodded, her, "Yes," coming out on a quiet sigh.

His own sigh rent the air before his fingers began their silent, erotic, relentless torture—joined by his mouth at her breast. He took his time, bringing her to the breaking point again and again, only to ease and leave her squirming until she’d finally had enough.

"Don’t you dare…" she panted. She grabbed at his wrist when his fingers drew away from her again.

"I think you’re almost ready," he said against her nipple. "Just —"

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