Page 58 of Forecasting the Forward

“Wow,” I mutter, and I feel Jacob chuckle against my pussy as he slowly laps at my release. Eyes unfocused, I can’t seem to make eye contact with him. “There appear to be two of you.”

He snorts, and the rush of air hits my skin like dynamite. I push away from him, closing my legs. The move pushes against my clit, sending a new rush of pleasure to my core. I could probably come again just by shifting my legs around a few times, that’s how turned on I am.

When I finally open my eyes to focus, I find Jacob standing above me, his legs open in a perfect masculine stance. Belt open but still hanging through the loops of his pants, Jacob palms his rigid length as he stares at me wolfishly.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to an odd indentation on his left shoulder.

He looks down at it before smirking. “The heel of your shoe.”

I gasp. “Oh my God! Seriously? Why didn’t you take them off?”

“Because,” he says huskily, as he crawls over top of me, “I’ve had dreams about fucking you with your heels on. I’m all too happy to live my fantasy.”

“They’re normal heels, Jacob. They aren’t even that sexy,” I tell him. They aren’t anything special, but I know they make my calves and butt look pretty spectacular.

“Anything you wear, Spitfire, I’m bound to find sexy,” he says before kissing me deeply. The taste of myself on his tongue is an aphrodisiac, and I wrap my legs around his waist. “Get this dress off. I need you naked.”

“Take it off me then,” I reply sassily.

He cocks a brow at me. “You should set up some parameters for me, darlin’. If the only objective is to get the clothing off, I will rip each piece from your body. If you’d like to save the clothes, you gotta tell me beforehand.”

Holy shit. “I’d, uh, like to keep this dress.”

“It is a nice dress.” Jacob looks me up and down. “Any dresses at home you’d be okay with me ripping off you?”

“I’m sure I can find something,” I answer. He pulls me up to standing, motioning for me to turn around. He finds the zipper quickly, following its path with his tongue along my spine.

“Fucking hell, Spitfire. You’ve been without a bra all damn day?” he spits out.

“Well, I don’t like strapless bras, and the top of this dress doesn’t really account for wearing a bra anyway. My boobs are so small I don’t need bras most of the time.” As president of the itty bitty titty committee, I stare down at my A-cups with disdain. The only way my boobs get bigger is if I eat a hell of a lot more, and then the rest of my body gets bigger too. My dress drops to the floor, and I wait to see his next move.

“I only need a mouthful, baby,” Jacob whispers as his arms slide around my waist and up to my chest, cupping my breasts reverently. “These are perfect.Youare perfect.”

I whimper as he plucks my nipples between his fingers. Tiny but super sensitive, and Jacob seems to hone in on that fact immediately. I feel his lips press against my pulse point, and I’m so close to coming. So close, in fact, it’s almost embarrassing. I think it’s been a slow foreplay with Jacob for weeks. Ever since he walked me home after dinner, holding my hand, I couldn’t stop myself from imagining all the things he might do to me. I reach around to grab the backs of his thighs, and I feel the tension rippling through his muscle and sinew.

Turning around, I throw my arms around Jacob’s shoulders, pulling his face down to mine. I need his mouth on me. He reaches down to grab my ass, lifting me, and I automatically wrap my legs around his hips. I feel his length hit me perfectly, and my body trembles with need and anticipation.

Jacob lowers me slowly, then stands to his full height. Grabbing on to one of my calves, he brings it to his mouth and applies the lightest of kisses, feathering his way down to myheels. “Don’t you dare kick these off, darlin’. I want to feel them digging into my back.”

I giggle breathlessly as he lets go of my leg, beginning to slowly unbutton his shirt. His gaze never leaves mine as I watch inch after bronzed inch appear before me. I knew he had tattoos on his left arm, but he has a smattering of tattoos across his chest as well. And oh, dear God, his abs. They look carved out of stone, and I subconsciously reach out to touch them.

Jacob grunts as my fingers find purchase, his eyes closing in bliss. His body trembles underneath my touch, and I’m emboldened by this. I’ve never had a man react so blatantly to me before, and it’s intoxicating. I grab hold of his waistband, pulling him toward me, then unbutton his pants. “Eyes open, husband.”

He groans, but dutifully opens his eyes. Pupils blown wide with lust, his gaze is intense. “Call me that again, wife.”

“Husband,” I whisper, loving the power one word has. He groans again, falling on top of me and crashing his lips against mine. This kiss is passion personified. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. His tongue circles mine furiously as one hand latches into my hair, and the other pulls my leg up and around his waist. If I died right this moment, I’d die happy, knowing I had the perfect kiss.

The orgasm a few moments ago didn’t hurt either.

Jacob breaks off the kiss, panting. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes?” I answer, a questioning tone obvious.

“I’m clean.”

“Okay?” Is he suggesting I need to shower? He just went down on me and didn’t complain, so clearly I’m not understanding.

Jacob chuckles. “I’m telling you I’ve been tested recently, and I don’t have any STD’s.”

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