Page 68 of The Jilted Lovers Club
A flash of surprise crosses his expression. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I close my eyes, feeling like the biggest idiot.
“No, I’m sorry.” I open my eyes again, looking at him, willing myself to not tear up or show any more emotion than I already have with him. “You know when you’ve been going so hard, and when you finally sit down, you realize how damn tired you are? I think my body is just letting down.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I know something about that.” He reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it. When I don’t move away, he moves to my shoulders, then my neck. I moan, stretching my neck to give him better access.
“Okay, maybe not that tired.” I lean into his hands, and he gives a low chuckle.
“Come on, let me rub out some of that tension. No ulterior motives, I promise.”
I look over my shoulder and pout. “None?”
“Well, I won’t stop your motives,” he says. “But if you just want a massage, I can just give you a massage.”
“I definitely won’t turn it down.”
We head to the bedroom, and I strip down in front of him. I love the way he watches me, how his eyes grow hungry even though he’s keeping his distance. I lie on the bed, and I hear him rummaging around in a drawer. I nearly jump when I feel a few drops of something land on my back.
“Sorry,” he says, smoothing his hand over my skin. I immediately smell lavender. “It’s infused oil,” he explains.
I soften under his touch, my body relaxing immediately as he begins to knead my muscles. He starts at my shoulders and neck, moves to my back, then down to my ass. Every section of my body he treats with the utmost care, taking his time.
And fuck, it’s doing two things: One, I’m like putty in his hands—seriously, he could do anything to me and I wouldn’t protest—and two…
I want to fuck him so badly. The more he touches me, the more I need. He moves to my inner thigh, his finger grazing the edge of my sensitive folds, and I nearly go feral.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. Butishe sorry? Because I’m not.
But I also don’t want to cave first. Even though he’s driving me crazy, I remain still as he works his magic, his hands covering every inch of my body.
“You like that, love?” he murmurs, and I moan in response. I spread my legs a little wider, and hear his breath hitch. “Fuck, baby.”
I grin into the blankets, waggling my ass a little. He smacks it, and I yelp.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be relaxing me.” I look over my shoulder, liking the way his eyes are on my sex, not on me. His cock is straining in his shorts, looking like a snack.
“Are you not relaxed?” he asks, moving his eyes to mine, a sly smirk on his face. “Turn over.”
I do as he commands, arching my back slightly just for his benefit. He sucks in a breath and shakes his head. Oiling hishands, he starts at my temples and face, smoothing over muscles I didn’t even know held stress. I let out another moan, closing my eyes as he continues, and I hear the low growl in his throat.
He moves to my chest, and his hands smooth over my tits before squeezing them. He keeps at this, sometimes including my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pinching them slightly before letting go.
“Fucking asshole,” I breathe, but there is no way I want him to stop.
Thank fuck he doesn’t. He keeps going, moving his hands over my stomach then my thighs. His upper body drapes over mine until my face is near his groin. I lean up, putting my mouth over his pants and blowing hot air on his straining bulge. This time, his growl is more like a moan.
“You’ll pay for that,” he says, low and deep. In a flash, my hands are secured by his knees holding them to the bed. His own hot breath cascades over my pussy, and I squirm in anxious delight, my face inches from his cock.
“No ulterior motives?” I ask, laughing.
“Quiet, you.”
Then his mouth is on me. I gasp as he swipes his tongue across me, before finding my most sensitive part and clamping on.
“Ashton,” I breathe, throwing my head back. I wish his pants were off. I want his cock in my mouth so bad. But in this position, I’m completely at his mercy, unable to reciprocate. So I close my eyes and welcome every sensation.
And goddamn, does he know what he’s doing. That man sucks and caresses with expert precision, tugging and pulling, nipping and licking. He makes a feast out of me, his mouth sliding over me like I’m his dessert and he refuses to waste one drop.
