Page 11 of Jagged Line Paradise

I hear him chuckle low and then his fingers dip lower, brushing across my wetness. I jolt, arching my back, my hips rising against his hand. I didn’t expect it to feel so good to have someone else touch me there—to havehimtouch me there.

But holy flippingwow.

“How are you so fucking wet?”

My eyes snap open and I look over at him, but his eyes are on his hand shoved down my pants. I feel embarrassed, thinking I must be too wet or something. I don’t know if I’m normal. But when his thick tongue slips out, swiping slowly over his bottom lip, when he shifts his body and rocks his hard-on into my hip, I know there’s nothing for me to be embarrassed about.

He likes it.

His fingers tickle along my folds, teasing with his touch, barely brushing over the opening until I’m feeling less apprehensive and more eager.

Iwant this so much.

I want him.

He takes in a slow breath and then he pushes one finger inside me. I gasp, filling my lungs with a sudden rush of air that’s stolen from me as Andrés covers my mouth with his, tasting me deeply with his tongue.

I’m urgent for him, urgent for more. I angle toward him as he pulls his finger out slowly and pushes it back inside. He’s hardly touched me and I’maching.

“Tell me how that feels,” he whispers against my lips.

I don’t know if I can speak right now, but I try. “It feels so good.” It comes out as a breathy whisper that I hope sounds sexy and not stupid.

He grins with a truly sinful kind of smirk that I’ve never seen on him before. It’s dark and dirty, and though it scares me a little bit, it also makes my stomach clench down below in pleasant need, right below my belly button. The clench makes me whimper and my lips part to express my need, though I can’t manage words.

His finger curls, hooking inside me, swooping across my most sensitive spot, tugging pleasure along with his finger. We’re nearly face to face as my body keeps turning toward him, silently begging for more of this magic he conjures through his fingertip.

My thighs clench around his hand as he nuzzles his face into my neck, kissing and licking across my skin. “You’re so fucking tight. Can you take another finger?”

I can take two of my own in self-pleasure, though his fingers are longer and thicker than mine. I think one of his feels like two of mine. Regardless, I nod and whisper, “Yeah.”

I cry out when he pulls out his one finger, then jabs two inside me again without warning, without ease, driving them deep, deep inside until I feel the knuckles of his absent fingers press against my opening. He’s gone rogue on me, switching without warning into a sexual demon intent on destroying me with his lust.

But God, how I want him to destroy me.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against my ear. “Stop me if I hurt you. I can’t fucking hold back with you.”

I can’t say that it hurts exactly. There’s a twinge of my inner muscles as they stretch around the thickness of his two fingers, but the sharpness doesn’t linger. It fades as he hooks his fingers again and dances them across a spot inside me that throbs frantically with each swipe of his digits.

I moan.

I let out a purely sexual, uninhibited sound and God, if the sound of my own lust doesn’t turn me on even more. It’s just that I’ve never had the opportunity to be loud and free and open in getting myself off. It’s always quiet and hidden and secret.

But when that sound comes leaping out from my lungs, it changes something in my soul. My inhibitions are lost, my fear of embarrassment has vanished. I want to moan and mewl and thrust and come completely undone.

I want to come.

I want to come hard, and I want Andrés to make it happen. I want him to see it. I want him to get off on it. I dare myself to say it, to just tell him that I want it.

“Make me come. Please. I want to.”

His plump lips touch my cheek and the metal of his lip ring digs into my skin. “I know you do. You’re gonna come hard on my fingers aren’t you, sunshine?” His curled fingers stroke inside me and his thumb comes down on that extra sensitive spot above it. “I wanna feel it when you come. I wanna know what it’s gonna feel like when you finally let me fuck you.”

“Ah…” I moan, feeling the build-up of that tingling, tickling feeling, that bubble of pressure inflating and threatening to burst. “Andrés.”

“Shit,” he hisses. “That’s it. Come on, Lonnie. Fucking come for me. Come hard. You’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

Oh, my holywow.

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