Page 49 of Most Likely to Score
That’s how he kisses, and it’s like a hot, dirty dream. His mouth slides over mine with lips that are soft, yet determined. The press of his hard body is delicious. Even though I’m taller than the average woman, I’m tiny next to him. Jones is so much larger than me, broader, bigger, and I love it.
I love everything about how he kisses me, most of all that he’s not quiet. As his big hands grip my face, he makes the sexiest sounds—moans and groans and murmurs that all add up to sheer masculine desire.For me.
It’s shocking to be wanted like this after all the time I thought the opposite. But it’s a shock I crave. I want him to shock my system with his lust.
He kisses me as if I’m what he’s fantasized about for days, for weeks, for months. As if he wants to kiss me everywhere, every inch of my body, and that thought sends a shudder through me, a wave of obscenepleasure that crashes between my legs where I’m hot and wet and needy for him.
It should be criminal to feel this good, to be this aroused.
If it is, I’m guilty and loving it.
A restless energy claws at me, a desperate desire to get closer to him, to climb him. I rub my pelvis against the outline of his erection. He’s hard and long, and I’m dying to feel him fill me up.
“Ohh,” I moan as the full awareness of his length dawns on me. The man is big everywhere.
I feel him laugh a little against my lips, then he separates from me, pressing his forehead to mine and whispering, “Are you trying to climb me?”
I laugh, too, answering breathlessly, “Yes.”
“Let me help you out.”
In a split second, he lifts me, wraps my legs around him, and carries me to the king-size bed. Low to the floor with a white lacquered platform, it screamsfuck me on this. Or maybe I have a one-track mind tonight. I’m an open book right now, and I can’t pretend any longer that I don’t want him with every fiber of my body.
“Jones,” I whisper as he lays me down under him. “This is just between us tonight.”
He nods. “It’ll always be between us.”
There it is—the admission that we are secret. That we are illicit and lawless. But the risk won’t stop us. I feel bold, brazen, like my mouth has been unlocked by his touch. “I want you tonight. I want all of you.” It’s such an awesome relief to say those words.
“I want you, Jillian. All of you. Don’t you know how much?”
I kind of do, but I want to hear. “How much?”
He groans, hiking my legs tighter around his back. With one swift move he grinds against me, letting me feel the outline of his hard cock through my flimsy clothes. The sound I make is animalistic, like a tiger in heat.
“You make me so fucking hard. I want you under me, writhing and moaning and calling my name,” he says as he pushes against me, a tease of what’s to come.
“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Arching up into him, I revel in the feeling of his hard-on between my legs, knowing that soon there won’t be any layers between us. I murmur in pleasure, breathing out his name. “Jones.”
He curses and thrusts against me. “Do you have any idea how attracted I am to you? I think about you constantly.” His words come out in a rush, thick with emotion, brimming with heat and need.
I blink then swallow, trying to make sense of what he’s just said. It feels like more than sex. More than lust. “You do?”
He nods vigorously. “So much, for so long.”
Something bursts inside me, everything I’ve held back, and words spill free. “It’s the same for me. It’s exactly the same for me.”
He grins. “Yeah?”
“That’s why it was so much harder not to look at you. I never stare at the guys anyway, but you—I wanted to see all of you, and I had to resist.”
He crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me like it’s a claiming, hot and fevered, sending me into a frenzy. My hips rock up against him, and we have to get naked soon or I will die.
He knows it, too, because he pulls away from me and stands, kicking off his flip-flops. He’s only wearing a T-shirt and swim trunks that don’t hide how aroused he is. “You can look at me now. I’m fair game.”
“Take your clothes off, please. I’m begging you.” I scoot back on the bed, resting on my elbows, gawking happily.
He grips the bottom of his shirt with crossed hands then strips it off in one quick move.
