Page 49 of Second Go-Round

He continued to stroke me, and a second climax burned through my pussy, clenching at his hand.

“Jesus!” I gasped, shuddering hard enough I slid forward onto the bed.

Jarod lapped at my cum, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “Sweet as honeysuckle,” he said against my throbbing lower lips.

My toes and fingertips tingled, and the muscles in my body slackened beyond what any hot bath could do. I needed more, and this time wasn’t above begging.

“Give me your dick, Jarod. Please.”

Chapter 22

Jarod

I glanced over at Micah as I lifted my head from the sweetest-tasting pussy I’d ever buried my face in. He stroked his huge cock, gaze glued to Christine spread out before me.

Unease tingled down my spine. I didn’t like him looking at her…enjoying the sight of her lush curves.

She’s not yours. She doesn’t desire you like that.

Her eyes while stopping me from kissing her had said it all. The cold reminder did little to lessen my jealousy or the painful throbbing in my cock. She lusted for me to bury balls deep inside of her while another man watched, which I wasn’t too keen on, but, fuck, did I want her. To make love to her mouth, to her body, to keep her all to myself. Hide her away in my bedroom, tied to my bed so that no other man could touch or look at her.

The desires in my head scared the shit out of me, even more so since I knew Christine’s didn’t align with mine.

Fucking screwed, Cooney had said. He was so damn right.

I told myself to pretend Micah wasn’t here, to satisfy the customer as I’d been paid to do.

A muscle in my jaw ticking, I grabbed the items I’d thrown on the bed beside us. A quick condom rolled on, and I yanked Christine up by her hair so she rested against my chest, her tits jutting out.

“You’re going to use that heavenly pussy of yours to make me come,” I whispered against her ear and bit on her lobe.

She gasped and nodded but didn’t reach for where I held tight to her hair.

“Get on my dick, sweet girl.”

She arched her back in offering. Groaning, I pulled her down by her hair and slammed up with my hips to bury myself deep, denying myself the opportunity to watch her expression as I sank into her.

A low groan ripped from my throat as the heat of her core bled through the condom. “You’re so fucking tight. So damn perfect.”

I spread my legs, pulling hers wide along with mine, putting her on full display for the chair in the corner—just like she’d fantasized about.

Christine whimpered and gyrated her hips, grinding on my cock. I sat still, making her work for it, my hand still tangled in her long auburn waves. She moved like she danced, all sensual fluidity, a sweet siren intent on tangling me in her web.

Didn’t she know I’d already been caught? That I’d sucked down her witch’s brew she had offered like a poisoned apple?

But did a happily ever after lay at the end of our story?

I hoped for it. Lusted after it. Fucking needed it like my next breath regardless of how she shielded herself from me.

Heart racing, I slid my lips along her collarbone, angling her head back so I could see her face. Lips parted and eyes hooded, she continued to writhe as though every gyration of her hips, every squeeze of her inner walls around my hard length, would tie my soul tighter to hers.

“You love riding my dick,” I murmured and slid my other hand to her soft belly, pinkie teasing over her mound.

“God, yes!” Christine blinked, her gaze flitting to the chair in the corner.

“What’s he doing?” I asked, hating that I wanted to know.

She gasped as I feathered a fingertip over her erect clit. “J-jerking himself.”

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