Page 66 of Beneath the Hood

Her arms slide along my shoulders until her fingers tangle in the hair on the nape of my neck. My hands tighten around her waist, waiting for her to make the next move. Ithasto be her.

She rises on her tiptoes, pulling me in, her lips grazing against mine.

“Kiss me,” she breathes.

Our mouths collide in an explosion of heat. Groaning, I sink in deeper, my tongue tangling with hers, my fingers gripping her tight and dragging her into me.

My cock hardens when she presses her hips into mine, moaning as she grinds herself against my length.

Months of pent-up tension collects at the base of my spine, begging for release. My intention wasn’t for this to happen, but I can’t help how my body responds when I touch her.

I thrust against her and she gasps, allowing me to dive in deeper until I can’t tell where she ends and I begin. I’ve never been a big kisser, but the intimacy of our lips melding together has desire twisting my insides and wringing them tight. Her mouth is the sweetest ambrosia coating my tongue.

Goddamn, she tastes delicious.

A groan rips from my throat when she palms my cock through my jeans, making it jerk against her, desperate for more friction.

“Blake,” I rasp, forcing myself to break away from her lips. “Wait, we should—”

She shakes her head, her fingers tightening around me. My eyes flutter from the sensation of having her grip me, even through my clothes, and precum bubbles at the tip, wetting the fabric of my boxers.

I’ve never gone this long without sex, and while I don’t miss the random hookups, my body misses the feel of someone else against it.

“I don’t want to wait, Jackson.Please.” She surges back up and meets my mouth.

My hands tighten, bunching up the silk fabric at her waist. “You wanted to take things slow,” I force out.

“We have been. If we go any slower, I’ll die,” she responds, her hand rubbing up and down the length of me. “I wantyou.”

I walk us backward, her lips never leaving mine, until my knees hit the edge of her bed. I fall to the mattress, her pussy bumping against my hips, making blood rush to my groin, my cock pulsing against my zipper.

“I saw this thing online.” Her cheeks heat when she says it, and then she sits on top of me, her chest heaving, lips puffy and red. “When I’m with you I get this… fuzzy feeling.”

“Fuzzy?”

“Yeah.” Her hips move back and forth over my growing erection, grinding slowly. I imagine her clit swelling with every pass over my dick and my eyes roll from the image.

“It said it’s something called subspace.”

I freeze.What?

“I don’t want you to be like… a dom or anything. But I think—” She bites her lip. “When I’m with you like this—when you take control. I like it. It relaxes my brain.”

My hands trail along her arms, fingers slipping under the straps of her tank top until they fall, her dusty pink nipples pebbling when her breasts hit the cool air.

My mouth waters, stomach flipping at the view, and I trace along her skin until I’m cupping them in my palms.

Her hand reaches between us, the buckle of my belt clanking as she clumsily undoes it. She raises her hips off me and I move to grab them, a protest on the tip of my tongue, but the words die when her chest dangles in my face. I lean up, sucking a nipple into my mouth and I groan, my dick jumping at her taste on my tongue.

She jerks, her hands stopping their task and grabbing my head to press me further into her. My hands fumble as I rip my jeans down my thighs and kick them onto the ground.

My palms wrap around her waist and I sit up to get closer, my tongue still twirling around her breast, my teeth biting down lightly. She moans, her back arching, the chocolate strands of her hair tickling my hand.

Her hips continue working against me and heat coils low in my gut as I thrust between her silk-covered pussy lips. My mouth breaks away from her hardened nipples so I can tear my shirt off, desperate to feel her skin on mine.

The pressure that’s winding through my body tightens like a screw and my abs contort, desperate to sink deep inside her and feel her come apart around me.

But a bit of sense sneaks through when I notice her face is drawn tight, eyes squeezed shut—like she’s concentrating.

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