Page 59 of Triggered By Love
She wanted sex, and she wanted it now.
He was taking his time kissing a trail down her neck, so she gave him a shove and pushed him off of her—the better to shrug off her tank top and shuck off her jeans.
His shock turned into wide-eyed surprise when she grabbed him by the waistband, finding the tip of his cock wet and waiting to be freed.
“I’m not sure I have another condom,” Jason said in a strangled voice.
“I’m safe if you are.” The heat was driving her crazy, the need for him to be inside of her frantic. The desire so urgent it felt as if she couldn’t exist a moment longer without him being inside her.
Her fingers closed around his heavy, hot shaft. His breath sizzled, hot and fast, steaming over with passion. He ran his finger over her hot button, dipping into her and stroking her juices between her folds. Was he delaying the inevitable? Unsure? Worried she wasn’t safe?
She clamped his hand with her thighs and rocked against it while pulling on his cock. His eyes rolled back, and he stilled her hand.
“You’re sure,” he stated rather than asked.
“Jason.” She acknowledged him and raised her hips to meet him halfway. He plunged into her, splitting her wide open, in one long and slow and filling moment.
Her gaze locked on to his, intense and fiery, holding a potent mixture of amazement and wicked lust. She was so tight, she quaked and quivered; she was afraid she’d come then and there.
He moved, rocking inside her at first, and then drawing out and pushing in. They moaned in unison, filling and expanding the molten heat with cries of pleasure.
His breath rasped, and his movements grew wilder and more frantic, pounding and slamming into her. Each stroke was like fire, hitting her with shrapnel and pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
Writhing and gripping his tight buns, she turned into a wild woman. His weight held her down, captive, and that rod he kept slamming into her filled her to the hilt with mindless ecstasy.
She was on a hair trigger, ready to explode. He snaked his fingers between her legs, aiming for the sensitive nub. He rubbed her to the rhythm of his velvety hard strokes, and she burst into a million rainbows of color.
“Jase, oh, Jase,” she could barely cry out, showered with sparks from her head to her toes.
He thrust harder, grunting and moaning, and he crested as she came down from the heights of sweet release, quivering and shaking with mindless surrender.
His weight crushed her into the mattress, and she loved, loved, loved the feeling of being trapped underneath him, completely sheltered and protected with a feeling of belonging.
He caught his breath and propped himself up, lightening his weight.
“Ave, are you all right?” he asked.
She scowled and pouted. “Stop being so concerned. I’m always all right as long as you’re covering me.”
Grinning with a self-satisfied smirk, he lowered his head and slathered a kiss over her mouth. She noticed he was hardening again.
She smiled into his kiss, and when he broke for air, he said, “I always get a second scoop of ice cream with a cherry on top.”
“I always get thirds,” she teased.
“The next round’s on me.” Turning over, he rolled onto his back and lifted her so she straddled him, motorcycle style.
Oh boy, she couldn’t wait to ride this cop.
Except his phone rang.
He groaned, slapping the mattress with frustration. “I’m sorry, but I have to take that.”
“I know.” She unstraddled him and gave his cock a squeeze. “Guess you’re not getting seconds.”
He made a “hold-up” sign and answered, “Burnett here.”
The tone of his voice changed as he got up from the bed. Speaking in a low voice, he strode past Avery as if she didn’t exist and locked himself in the bathroom.
