Page 83 of Full Tilt
Pushing off the bed, I stand in front of her and undress until I’m fully naked.
Jenna lifts her hips up, and I peel her sweats down her legs, taking her soaked thong along with them.
She sits up and removes her T-shirt and then unclips her bra and tosses them both on the heap of clothes beside my feet.
We’re both bare and silent.
Comfortable to observe and absorb the shifting dynamic between us.
Taking my cock into my left hand, I pump myself a couple of times, the tip instantly shining with hot arousal.
God, I want her so badly.
Jenna’s about to flip onto her hands and knees for me when I stop her with a firm hand on her upper thigh.
“No. I don’t want you like that tonight.”
She pauses, and I crawl back over her sweet body.
“I told you I want to prove myself to you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
JENNA
Tommy tracks my movements as I drag my body into the center of my king-size bed.
“Are you trying to escape?” he teases, smiling down from where he’s hovering above me, braced on one elbow and gripping his thick cock in the other hand.
Even if I wanted to run, I couldn’t, and it has nothing to do with the way he has me boxed in. I’m practically paralyzed, every muscle liquefying each time his eyes burn into me.
“I’m used to you being a brutal asshole.” I cast my eyes down to where he’s slowly pumping himself between my legs, pre-cum leaking from his dick and onto my duvet.
Tommy strokes himself again, spreading his palm over the head this time. I can tell it feels good when he does it, his blown pupils only growing wider.
“What kind of sex do you like, Jenna?”
His simple question pools in my core, and I spread my thighs wider.
Tommy takes advantage, settling down between them. One thrust of his pelvis, and he’ll enter me with ease.
“If you could design the perfect night with a guy, what would it look like?”
My body might be on fire, but my cheeks still flush hotter. I don’t need to think about the answer to that question since I’ve fantasized about Mr. Right so often that I could write a full-blown novel about him. Regardless, admitting to a boy—especially one I’ve hated for so long—about my true desires in bed feels like I’m stepping into a whole new vulnerable world with him.
Tommy notches himself at my dripping entrance.
“Let me tell you what I think you want from a guy.” He pushes just the head inside me and pauses on a steadying breath. “I think you want your man to throw you around the bedroom on occasion, but take it slow with you on the daily.”
Tommy’s tattooed hand ascends my upper thigh, wrapping around my hip. I’m not petite, but his handspan dwarfs every part of my body, and I love the dominant way it feels.
He pushes inside another inch, and I spread wider, partly to accommodate his size and partly because I’m powerless to resist his advances.
I can’t be sure where I am in the maze that is Tommy Schneider, although I’m not looking for the exit.
“You want a boyfriend who will mark your body and claim you as his in private and then wrap his arms around your waist for everyone to witness.”
When he pushes another inch inside, overwhelm slams into me like a ten-ton truck.
