Page 76 of Undeniably Enemies

“I think you need my cock.”

I do. I really do.

“Stop talking and fuck me.”

He chuckles against me, and I can’t stop my resulting moan. I’m so keyed up, I’m about to explode again. “Come here, baby. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

He picks me up and walks us over to my sofa where he sits down and slides off his track pants. His large, hungry, beautiful cock springs out, and I lick my lips, my mouth pooling with saliva. I told him I wouldn’t suck him off, and I won’t on principle, but fuck, do I want to get on my knees, take him down my throat, and absolutely destroy him.

Instead I take him in my hand and start to stroke him the way I did last night. He grunts, his head falling back against the cream cushion, and his black eyes ringed in an icy blue stare up at me with a dirty, evil gleam. Adjusting myself, I position the head of his cock at my soaked entrance and use him to play with myself a bit. I rub him against my clit, pushing it in and circling it exactly how I like. An unholy grunt exhales from his lips, and it makes my empty core clench in anticipation.

My breath quickens and my body shakes. He watches me with hooded eyes as he straightens and removes my top so he can suck on my breasts, trying to fit each one completely in his mouth while his other hand toys and plays with the opposite nipple.

“Does that feel good?” he manages though his voice is shredded.

I can only nod in return.

“You’re soaking my cock.” He glances down, looking in wonder at where our bodies are joined but not yet one. “Do you see it? I haven’t even been in you yet, and I’m already soaked in you.”

I look down too, but my view isn’t as good as his is. I don’t care, though, because the head of his cock is getting me closer and closer. I start to roll my hips, and he grasps them to hold me steady and help me out. Faster and faster, I move, using him, ringing him around my opening but not sliding him inside.

“Fuck, Wren, you’re killing me.”

I can feel it too. The little jerks his hips make as he tries to hold himself back from thrusting inside me. His jaw is clenched tight, and his grip on my hips is bruising. He’s letting me have this, either because he likes it too much to stop me or because he wants me to feel like it’s not only about him. I don’t know and I don’t care because I’m so. Fucking. Close.

“Oh, god, Jack. Yes.”

“Fuck, Wren, you’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t handle how gorgeous you look using my cock to get yourself off. You feel so good, and I want you so badly, baby, I can hardly stand it. I want to feel it though. Come on me like this. Soak me, and then I’m going to fuck you so good.”

I moan, and when he pinches my nipple, I detonate, pressing his cock as deep as it can go on my clit and rocking back and forth as I come all over him. It feels incredible. So fucking amazing. But it’s not enough, and I slide him inside of me as I’m still coming and use my fingers to rub my clit to finish myself off.

“Fucking Christ,” he bellows as my pussy spasms and squeezes him, and I bounce, feeling him hard and perfect and right where I want him. My clit throbs and pulses against my fingers, but with him inside of me like this and him now starting to fuck me, my orgasm doesn’t stop. It just continues and grows and morphs into a song that doesn’t have an end.

He bounces me on him, using me to fuck him, and my tits jiggle against his lips. My fingers don’t stop on my clit. I don’t think I could if I wanted to, and with him inside of me like thisand his mouth on my tits, I hit a new level of climax and absolutely lose my freaking mind. Stars dance behind my eyes along with multicolored fireworks. They explode along with me, and Jack follows, pounding up into me and coming with a roar against my chest.

I sag against him, boneless and spent, outside of my body completely.

He holds me again, whispering soft words I can hardly make out. But I swear, I hear him mutter, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear it. “I’ll never be done with you now.” And I worry it’s the same for me.

23

Monday, I wake before dawn, which this time of year in Boston is fucking early. It’s cold. It’s dark. It makes the annoyingly short one-and-a-half-mile run to the hospital exactly what I need it to be, even if it’s not longer. I left Wren’s house sometime before midnight on Saturday. I wasn’t sleeping over, and neither of us had to even mention that. She was my Cinderella again, but this time, at midnight, I turned into the pumpkin.

I haven’t seen her since, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her either.

On Sunday, I didn’t go to Stone’s to watch Mason’s away game, and I didn’t do much other than unpack and order in. I didn’t listen for her. I didn’t look through my peephole at her door. I put myself in a bubble, but a bubble can only do so much to block out the rest of the world when it’s fucking translucent.

Saturday was a mistake. Because now I don’t know how to go back.

Other than maybe being a dick to her, but I don’t want to be a dick to her anymore. I want a repeat of Saturday every Saturday.I want to take her on dates and learn all the things I never knew because I was too afraid to look.

I’ve never wanted anyone with this level of life-altering intensity before. It’s as if my body and mind are no longer under my control. I want her to the point of madness. To the point where I no longer care that she’s Owen’s sister or my neighbor or my student because I want her anyway. I’m hardly trying to resist. It makes me hate myself.

Which is why I’m running at a hard sprint, hoping I’m exhausted and spent by the time I reach the hospital so that my mind is only able to focus on work and nothing else.

Because I have to resist.

There’s no other way this can go.

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