Page 59 of Forecasting the Forward

I feel the burn of embarrassment coat my cheeks and neck. “Oh.”

He presses his lips against mine for a moment. “Are you clean?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He exhales slowly, the heat of his breath searing across my skin. “I have a condom. I’ll use it if you want me to, but there’s nothing I want more than to feel you, darlin’. I want to feel every bit of your pussy clenching around me.”

Holy hell. My voice squeaks out as I answer. “I’m on the pill.”

He lets out a harsh exhale. “Fuck. I’m not going to last long, Spitfire.”

Jacob stands, only to yank his pants and boxer briefs down, then grabs me underneath my arms and tosses me toward the top of the bed. Crawling after me, he fits himself perfectly between my legs, and as he bends to suck a nipple into his mouth, I feel the head of his cock at my entrance. I gasp when the cold barbell hits my skin. “Will that thing hurt?”

“My dick or the piercing?” he asks as he nibbles on my nipple, making me moan.

“Uh, both, I guess,” I say with a laugh.

He raises his head to look at me. “Baby, you were made to take me.”

Jacob inches forward, breaching my entrance, and I let out a guttural moan. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had sex. I’d begun to accrue quite the supply of bedroom helpers to get me off when needed. I couldn’t justify a one-night stand, or a friends-with-benefits situation, and I don’t trust many men. Being in the public eye makes me extra cautious. Maybe I’ve just refused to settle, because I can already tell, as Jacob slowly fills me, that he’s going to be a hard act to follow.

“See?” he groans as he bottoms out, circling his hips to rub against my clit. “Fuck, darlin’. You feel spectacular.”

Pulling out almost to the tip, he slides in quickly, and I feel the frenum piercing stroke along nerve endings I didn’t know I had. Jacob begins thrusting, those powerful thighs I grabbed moments ago being the star of the show. Grabbing one hand, he intertwines our fingers together and holds it next to my head, then slides a hand between our slick bodies. Finding my clit, he rubs steadily, and I feel another orgasm building.

Jacob’s movements become unsteady, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. “Get there, baby,” he grunts. “I need you to make me come.”

“I like you calling me baby,” I pant. He doesn’t answer as he continues to stroke my clit, and my legs tense up as the exquisite wave crests over me. Arching my back, white spots dot my vision as I come harder than I’ve ever come before, clenching around Jacob so tightly he can barely move. He lets out a loud moan as he comes, and I feel his release coat my inner walls. We’re panting in unison as he collapses on top of me, falling to the side so the bed bears the brunt of his weight, but he pulls me with him so we stay connected.

I’ve always been the kind of woman who found a lot of aspects of sex to be fairly gross. Intimacy in general has been somewhat difficult for me my entire life. It undoubtedly stems from my relationship with my father and brother, but sexual intimacy has been a challenge as well. I never wanted to feel a man’s release leaking out of me. I didn’t like a man’s sweaty body against mine. Once we were done, I wanted to get dressed or shower, and go about my day.

But with Jacob, I’m reveling in this connection. I want to keep him buried inside me. I want him to cover me in his cum. I move my head slightly to stare up at him, my eyes wide as I take in his profile. He has a contented smile on his face, a sheen of perspiration across his skin, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful man.

I’m falling for this man.

I am in big trouble.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Sweet Jesus,I could live inside Becca’s pussy and be incredibly happy.

The way she responded to me, and all the sounds she made, were fucking phenomenal. I’m not even sure she knew how responsive she was. Little moans, gasps, high-pitched sighs that had me two seconds from blowing my load.

Did I visualize my team all lined up in tube socks and jockstraps in an attempt to last longer? Yes. Yes, I did.

Becca sighs against me as she snuggles into my side, nuzzling my neck in contentment. Shit. I need to get a washcloth for her, and get her under the blankets. It’s been an incredibly trying few days for her, and I know she’s exhausted.

“No,” she whimpers as I slide out from inside her, but I see the wince as my piercing drags along the nerves. “I like that thing.”

“My dick or the piercing?” I ask with a chuckle.

She smiles softly. “Both.”

Climbing off the bed, I head to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. Wetting it with warm water, I return to Becca to find her slowly scooting up to slide under the blankets. I grab her ankle to stop her before tenderly wiping between her thighs. She watches with eyes as wide as saucers. “Something wrong?”

“You just cleaned me,” she whispers.

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