Page 34 of Hellbent
I can’t answer—not when his teeth graze skin, not when his touch finds that perfect rhythm again. I gasp, my back lifting from the mattress, and Jake growls, low and pleased.
“You know what drove me crazy?” he murmurs, voice low against my throat. “Knowing that Damian was right there last night. Listening. Wishing he was the one inside you—while I was the one making you come.” He groans softly, the sound full of hunger. “I swear, I could feel it, how much he wanted you. Did it turn you on? Knowing he was there?”
The memory floods me. His eyes in the dark. That quiet, muted moan on the other side of the room.
I shudder, my breath catching. “Yeah.”
“Dirty girl.” He drags the blanket off and scoots down to the end of the bed, settling between my legs. “I liked that too. And I want to eat you out again just like I did when he was watching.”
Then his mouth is on me, hot and wet, and I gasp, my fingers fisting into the sheets as his tongue slides over my clit.
I’m gone in minutes, unraveling under his touch, my body trembling as pleasure crashes through me.
“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, kissing his way up my body, his lips trailing heat along my skin.
And then he’s inside me again, stretching me open, filling me deep, andfuck, I should be spent, but I’m not.
I want more.
I dig my nails into his back, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. He groans against my throat, thrusts turning rough and desperate. Losing control, just like I want him to.
And then the pleasure surges again, curling hot and sharp in my core, and I cry out, breaking apart beneath him. Jake follows, gasping my name, his body shuddering against mine.
For a long moment, we stay where we are, just breathing, and then Jake shifts and rolls over behind me, his warm chest rising and falling slowly against my back. The bed is too small, but I don’t care. His warmth feels good. Safe. I don’t want to move.
The silence presses in, thick and absolute, and my instincts prickle to life. We weren’t exactly quiet. And with nothing for miles to distract from any sound…
I flush with embarrassment.
I picture Wyatt upstairs, awake, listening. Arms crossed. Brows knit. Thatare-you-kidding-metilt of the head he gave me out in the parking lot.
Did he hear?
I don’t know. But as exhaustion finally drags me under, I can’t shake the feeling that come morning, I’ll find out.
Jake groans, stretching, his lips pressing lazily against my shoulder.
“Mmm, morning, babe.” His voice is thick with sleep, his fingers dragging slow, teasing patterns over my thigh. “God, it feels good to wake up next to you.”
He presses his body against me, the hard length of his morning wood heating my back.
I snort and turn over. “Does it?” I ask. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my ass kicked.”
Jake laughs. “By Captain Wyatt Marshall? Um…yep, you probably are. And me too. I better get out of here before he comes down with a shotgun.”
I shove him, and he chuckles, sitting up. He looks so fucking good like this—naked, hair mussed, eyes still heavy with sleep. Instantly I crave him all over again, and I want to ask if he’ll come back tonight; when I’ll see him again.
He exhales, running a hand through his messy hair. “I should go.”
I nod, but neither of us move.
It’s easy here, in the dim light of my small space, where the world is still asleep and nothing feels complicated yet.
But then the floor creaks upstairs, and we freeze.
Jake exhales sharply, presses a quick kiss to my lips, then he’s up, pulling on his jeans, tossing me a wink as he slips out the door like a thief in the night.
I flop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
