Page 12 of Carry Me Home
“Jack,” she sputtered. Her nails dug into my bicep while her other hand went between us. Her fingers grazed the two inches of my shaft that hadn’t made it inside her yet and her eyes widened. “You’re not all the way in yet?”
“Almost,” I muttered.
She made a frantic squeaking sound. “This isn’t going to work. It’s not going to fit.”
My chin dropped to my chest and I got us another half inch. “It will fit,” I gritted out. “Those muscles are flexible. They’re made for this. Breathe, honey.”
She glared up at me. “Do not mansplain my vagina to me, Jack. I will—” She gasped as I sank deeper. “God.”
“Good?” I asked, my voice thick and drugged.
“Sogood.”
I caught her nipple in my teeth, flicked my tongue over the cool metal stud. She arched and I bottomed out with a groan. I paused as long as I could take it, ten seconds, fifteen, then pulled out halfway and drove right back in.
She stared up at me with wide eyes and shiny damp lips that made me nearly spill right then and there, and then she tucked her chin and craned her neck like she was trying to get a better view.
“You want to see?” I roughed out.
“Yeah.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “I want to see.”
I straightened my arms and lifted my torso so she could watch me thrust into her. She stared down at where her pussy stretched tight around my pumping cock.
“Look how well you take me,” I murmured. “Fuck, look at you.”
She looked. Her eyes glazed over and her breaths turned short and hollow. I watched her watch me fuck her and?—
“Christ,” I bit off. I needed her to get there right fucking now. “Touch your clit, honey.”
She didn’t even hesitate. Her hand delved between us, found her spot, and rubbed. I pumped harder as her whimpers turned to moans, and then I needed to feel her for myself. Leaving onearm to hold my weight, I covered her hand with mine, learning the way she liked to be touched.
It sent us both over the fucking edge. Her pussy pulsed around my shaft, her orgasm deepening my own, and I spilled everything I had inside her.
I braced my arms on either side of her as I slowly lowered my body, not wanting to crush her. But she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down against all that warm, silky skin. I sank in with a grateful groan. Fuck, I was tired. I had been tired for a week now. A month. A fucking year.
My whole lifetime.
I shouldn’t stay the night, but my eyelids felt like rocks were holding them closed.
“Just a nap,” Janie mumbled in my ear.
“An hour,” I agreed, rolling to my side and curling around her body.
I waited for the regret to hit, now that my dick had gotten what it wanted and my brain was fully operational again. But it never came. I didn’t regret a damn thing.
In fact, I wanted more.
4
JANIE
I can’t breathe.
I wrenched awake, clawing desperately at my throat. The hand wrapped around it didn’t budge except to squeeze tighter. Jack’s taut face hovered inches above my own, his mouth a grim slash, his eyes closed, his brows pushed together, looking like he had every intention of ending my life. But the sounds he made—agony. Likehewas the one in pain.
Shit, shit! I tried to wiggle, but his big body crushed me to the bed, and not in a good way. That self-defense class I took in college for a P.E. credit was a joke. I couldn’t even get a knee to his balls. What was I supposed to do?Never wake a sleepwalker. Was that real, or just untested internet advice? What about sleep stranglers? Did the same rule apply? If Chloe Adams, one of my best friends and a fantastic social worker, was here, she’d know what to do. She’d be gentle and calm and?—
I wheezed. Oh, god, I was going to die. I was going to die and everyone would know it was because I had a one-night stand and Maya?—
