Page 59 of Intrigued
Jasper’s mouth struck like lightning, and his soft, warm tongue was swirling indulgently around mine. My head spun, making me feel as if I were buzzed. His hand gripped me by the waist, and together we stood. That was when I wrapped my arms around his neck. His kiss told me that he was ready to leave our conversation for another time and move on to something more erotic, but his robust erection pressing against me shouted it.
Our mouths separated, but our gazes remained stuck on each other. Over the course of three days, I’d become used to looking into Jasper’s blue-green eyes. I wrongly felt as though I would be looking at them forever.
He gripped my hand and slowly walked me to my bed. My feet felt as if they were shuffling across air. It was Jasper and I, alone in the world. This was the same, how he spread me across the bed and took off my shoes and jeans. Then he gently pulled me up into a sitting position, lifted my sweater over my head, and unhooked my bra before removing it. I understood that he was in control. His warm and delicate mouth consumed one of my nipples, and his fingers crawled behind the crotch of my panties to penetrate my wetness. I tilted my head back and sighed from experiencing the pleasure of his stimulation.
A spontaneous moan escaped him. “Shit,” he said breathlessly, stepping away from me to take off his clothes as if he were in a race. “Get your panties off.”
I snatched my panties off.
Jasper took me by the knees and parted them then guided his erection into my pussy.
“Uh,” I said as his thick hardness pushed inside me.
We were kissing again, and each of his thrusts felt so damn good. But something was different. We couldn’t keep our eyes off each other. With each thrust, I felt as if my heart would burst with an emotion I had worked so hard to stave off during sex sessions with Jasper. In and out, slowly and deeply, his cock experienced my pussy. Every now and then, he would close his eyes to bear the sensations as blood poured to his dick. Then he would stop prodding me and kiss me delicately. I felt like a china store, and he was the bull who was trying to be careful.
“I’m falling for you,” he whispered after our lips parted.
Jasper didn’t wait until I said something in response. He started shifting in and out of me, faster than before. He grabbed hold of the headboard as he tried to bust through me. I held him tightly, angling my burgeoning orgasm toward the action.
“You first,” he mumbled.
I concentrated on the lines of pleasure sparking through my pussy. It was coming. My eyes were closed tightly. It got closer.
Jasper didn’t decelerate. “Please, baby. Hurry, baby,” he kept repeating. I could hear him straining to not let loose.
There…He was agitating the right spot, rimming it, rubbing it, keeping a steady pace.
And then… “I’m coming,” I shouted and cried out to anyone who could hear me as my orgasm ignited my pussy.
“Oh,” Jasper shouted, convulsing. “Holy shit!”
* * *
Jasper held me so close,it felt as if our bodies were glued together. Every now and then, he would kiss his favorite part of my back, my hot spot, which would send flickers of delight through me. There was no way we could sleep. I knew we weren’t done making love, and I believed he knew it as well.
“I’ve been wondering, why did you decide to become a reporter?” he asked.
I was sort of shocked he asked me that question simply because it was the sort of inquiry a man asked on the first date or something.
“I don’t know, because I like to discover things, I guess.”
“You’re really good at what you do,” he said.
I pursed my lips, fighting the urge to say more, to divulge more of the pain I had always kept to myself. Then my mouth opened, and I said, “I also became a journalist because I felt as though my parents hid so much from me. It wasn’t the shit they paraded right in front of my face, the double-dealing and petty crimes. It was the deep and dark secrets that made them who they were and, as a result, compounded my entire childhood experience. They dragged me through what felt like shit and deep mud every day, unable to see my pain. And if they did see it, then they sure didn’t have the ability to give a damn.” Tears rushed through my eyes. “I often dreamed of being one of the lucky ones.”
Jasper sniffed bitterly. “If you think I’m one of the lucky ones—”
“No.” I shook my head against his muscular biceps. “The lucky ones have parents who get it.”
“Get what?” There was a sort of eagerness in his tone.
“That they’ve just given birth to a human being that belongs to God, and they have from that moment forward to prepare the child to discover their own gift so that she or he can become a productive and happy adult and citizen of earth.”
Jasper remained quiet, but he squeezed me tighter after kissing me on his favorite spot. “I don’t know my father’s original sin,” he finally said.
I’d been in intimate moments with Jasper enough to understand his communication style. I would remain silent and let him ponder what he wanted to say next.
“One sin covers the previous sin. Then one layers over that one. Then there’s another and a million others. There are so many of them that I can’t reach the original sin. But the people who know what it is are around, holding us hostage, threatening us.”
