Page 45 of Ensnared

I’mpanting against his mouth, andIcan’t do a thing to stop it.

Iknow what he’ll find if his fingers dip any further.

WhenIdon’t move, he pulls my panties to the side and then plunges two fingers into my slick, wet heat.Iclench around the tight, sudden pressure with a gasp, and roll my hips forward urgently, pressing him deeper.

WhenImeet his eyes, he gives me his first real smile.It’ssmall and slow and full of male satisfaction.Unableto stop myself,Iwiden my stance further, allowing him better access.Hiscoarse fingers fill me, stretch me.I’mdripping around him.

Hepresses his forehead to mine. “Filthybitch.”

Ihate that he sounds approving.Ihate thatIcare.Ihate that him using me this way, talking to me this way, makes me hot and liquid and dangerously desperate.

Embarrassedand annoyed and more turned on thanIcan believe,Iclose the short distance and press my mouth to his, wanting to wipe the amusement from his face.

Hegrunts, lips parting.Histhumb moves so it rubs my clit as his fingers pump in and out of my soaking core.Headspinning,Ilet out a sobbing moan and scrape my nails down his chest to the top of his jeans, shuddering at the feel of his firm skin under my fingertips.Hedraws my tongue into his mouth and sucks on it hard.

Irock myself instinctively against his fingers, sending pleasure crashing over me.It’snot the deliberate buildIfelt withBeauandJasper; it’s wild, raw passion.I’mso close.Mytraitorous body feels out of my control, chasing pleasure with a desperationI’venever felt before.

Mynipples ache, rubbing against my bra.Itpisses me off.Itleaves me breathless.Ourmouths break apart and mine presses to his throat, nipping and licking the salty, delicious skin there.

Thebutton on his pants is stubborn asItry to work it open, caught tight against the pressure of his straining cock.Isob in frustration against his neck, and his fingers leave me.Hebats my hands away and pops the button in moments, then drops his pants and kicks off his boots.

He... isn’t wearing underwear.

Mybreath hisses between my teeth.He’sthick and huge—bigger by far than anythingI’veever had inside me before.Mycore throbs needily, missing his fingers and protesting the loss of the quick brink he’d brought me to.Hiseyes gleam as he takes in my expression, and he roughly shoves my dress the rest of the way down.Myhair’s escaping from my bun, the tendrils teasing my breasts and shoulders.

“Getdown,” he says, and his gravelly voice grazes over me deliciously.

Down?

Atmy confusion,Jaykobsnorts, grabs a pillow off the bed and drops it to the floor in front of him, tugging me down.

Oh.

Thethick, bold length of him is thrust in front of me.Awet drop glistens from the tip, andIcan’t look away, unwillingly fascinated.Mybreasts feel trapped and sensitive, and my body still aches, shivering with need.Buttrepidation trips over me.Theone timeItried this,Inearly lost my lunch.

“Myway,” he reminds me, his voice barely more than a growl.Ilook up and he’s watching me with that mean, knowing smirk again. “Theothers might be sucked into the big save-me eyes, ladies-first bullshit.ButI’mthe real feminist, princess.Equalopportunities.”

Hegrasps himself at the root and tangles his other hand in my bun.Herubs the tip over my lips, smearing the dewy drop across my mouth.Hedoesn’t try to thrust past my defenses though—for all his talk, he gives me a moment.Inhalingthrough my nose,Irealize he doesn’t smell bad at all, not likeHenrydid.Slightlymusky, his natural scent is stronger here, but it’s far from unpleasant.Cleanand veryJaykob.

Tentatively, my tongue darts out, tasting the essence he’s marking me with.It’sslippery, a little tangy, but surprisingly free of flavor.Startled, my eyes fly up and the pure, unadulterated lust in his face brings the banking heat in me back to a full storm.

Hesitantly,Iopen my mouth to him as he rocks his hips forward.Hegives me just a moment to adjust to his size, my jaw straining, before filling my mouth more fully.Myglasses slip down my nose, and, with a sound of derision, he plucks them off my face and tosses them on the bedside table.Iyelp my disapproval, my teeth scraping him just slightly in warning.Hishand tightens in my hair.

“Nowthat ain’t very nice,MissManners.Putthose away.”

Imake a helpless sound against him, and he groans.

“Moveyour tongue, princess.Lickme.Neatand tidy ain’t gonna work; get it nice and wet.”Verysmall rocking motions accompany his growled instructions, andIfind myself obeying.

He’shot and hard and full in my mouth and, far from hating the taste,I’mshocked to realizeIlove it.Thefriction of his movements against my sensitive, soft lips has me writhing and my lids fluttering closed.Mylips still don’t come close to his pumping hand at the base of his dick.

“Openyour eyes.Lookat me.”

Ido, and the angry pleasure on his face fills me with a strange confidence.Imade him look like this.Hepresses a little deeper, but not quite far enough to set off my gag reflex.

“Spiton your hand.”

Hepulls out abruptly, leaving a trail of my saliva along his cock.Apart of me wants to get a washcloth.Abigger part wants to rub myself against him and beg him to fill me with that hard, glossy length untilIforget how to talk.Hegrabs my arm and brings my hand to my face.

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