“Let me show you,” he murmurs hoarsely, sliding one hand beneath the fabric along my ribs and using his thumb to rub a gentle circle on my nipple.
I gasp at the jolt of pleasure from the touch. I had no idea I can have such a response to such a light little touch. “Okay,” I whisper, since my vocal cords aren’t fully working. “Show me.”
“You’ll do what I say?” he asks, his thumb still making those delicious circles, causing me to arch my spine to press my breast up toward his hand.
“Yeah.” I’m clenching my hands in the rug to keep from grabbing at him to make him hurry up.
Then, just so it’s clear I haven’t totally lost my backbone, I add, “As long as you’re not an ass.”
He chokes on what sounds like a laugh. “I won’t be an ass.”
“And as long as it’s something I want.”
“You’ll definitely want it.”
“There you are, being conceited again.”
He smiles down on me—hot and dominate and also somehow tender. I have no idea how to describe it, but the look makes me feel crazy good and safe at the same time.
Then he moves so he’s seated again and leaning against the couch.
And I’m still sprawled half naked on the floor. “What’s going on?”
“I want you above me again.” He reaches a hand out toward me.
I thought he was going to have me lie there so he could do things to me, but I’m perfectly amenable to this shift. So amenable that I scrabble over until I’m straddling him again.
He takes my head in both his hands and pulls me down into a kiss and, damn, it’s even better than the other ones.
I’m grinding my arousal against his groin, frustrated by the layers of clothes between us, but then he breaks the kiss and moves his hands down to hold my hips still. “Oh, no. It’s not time for that yet.”
I know it makes me sound too needy, but I whimper again, since I’m so turned on it will take almost nothing for me to come now. “What do we need to do first?”
“First, I’m going to please you. Then I get to please myself too.” His eyes are crawling over my flushed face and bra-clad breasts. “For now, why don’t you take your top off all the way?”
Since I thought he was going to be doing all the things, this surprises me. And I feel a little self-conscious as I carefully pull my arms out of the shirt and then drop it on the floor.
“Fuck,” he mutters, reaching up and spanning my ribs with his hands. Seriously, I’m so little and his hands are so big that he can get them pretty far around me. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
That’s the kind of thing a girl likes to hear, so who can blame me for melting a little.
It’s so strange that he’s doing nothing but staring though—since I don’t think my body is anything special. “I’m already into this. No need to exaggerate.”
“It’s not an exaggeration.” He’s leaning back against the couch, but he’s not relaxed. It’s like there’s this coiled energy or intensity or lust or something, all held back by a pose of control. “Now take off your bra.”
It would be easier if he was undressing me himself, since then I wouldn’t be so self-conscious. But I agreed that I’d do what he says, as long as he’s not an ass.
And he hasn’t been an ass yet.
So I reach behind me and unhook the bra, peeling it away from my skin and dropping it on the floor with my shirt.
He does a lot more staring. It even sounds like he might moan very softly, deep in his throat.
My breasts are small, like the rest of me, but they have a decent curve and right now the nipples are so tight that they’re definitely perky.
“Well?” I finally demand, after he does nothing but stare and stare. My whole body is now as flushed as my cheeks.
“Fuck, princess, I had no idea anyone could be so gorgeous. Raise yourself up on your knees.”
I obey automatically, compelled by the husky power of his voice. And the move puts my chest almost at the level of his face.
He takes care of the difference by holding my ribs again to ease me closer and then lowering his mouth so it reaches one of my nipples.
I feel so strange and vulnerable in this position and the sensation of his warm mouth on my flesh is so good that I release a helpless sound of pleasure.
He lets my nipple slip out of his mouth for long enough to murmur, “That’s right, Chloe. Just let go. Let me show you how good you can feel.”
I’m clutching desperately at his shoulders, trying to keep my balance and not collapse in a boneless heap of indulgence as his mouth works at my breast in ways I can’t possibly keep track of. I’m still making all kinds of silly sounds as the stimulation shoots right down to my pussy.
When he readjusts his hand so his thumb can rub and tweak my other nipple at the same time, it feels so good I have to bite my lip restrain the sound. My hands fist in the fabric of his shirt.
“Don’t try to fight it,” he says, giving the one breast a few final licks. “Don’t be self-conscious. Just let yourself feel it. Give yourself over to it.”
Now, I can straddle his lap when he tells me to, but it’s a lot harder to not be self-conscious upon instruction. My whole life I’ve been a people-pleaser, carefully judging everything I do.
Even fucking Carter was out of an overwhelming desire to please him—which in turn pleased me.
Not thinking about anything but feeling good is about as impossible as it gets for me.
Jack is staring at me again, so intensely it makes me want to squirm. I straighten my spine so my tits look a little better.
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to put on an act for me. I want this to be about you. The real you.”
As obscure as it is, I know exactly what he means. We spend much of our lives playing parts, putting on a role for other people. We do it in bed as much as in anything else.
I did it with Carter—tried to be the hot little vixen he wanted me to be.
“I’m trying,” I pant. I’m so aroused now that the wetness between my legs is genuinely uncomfortable.
“Don’t try.” He pulls me toward his mouth again and takes my other breast in his mouth, giving it the same treatment as the first. “Just be.”
My legs are so weak now I’m leaning backwards, but Jack is supporting me with his hands on my ribs. I give up trying to do anything, since there is really nothing I can do. And my whimpered sounds of response grow louder and more helpless as he strokes and suckles.
Finally, my need is so urgent that I’m mumbling, “Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please” and clutching desperately at his shirt.
“That’s right,” he murmurs, finally releasing my breast. Both of them are throbbing now, feel swollen and so stimulated that any light touch might make me crazy. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m going to scream or claw your face off or something.” I’m finally able to relax a little and get my mind to work now that the sensations have paused.
He chuckles softly and pulls me down to kiss me gently on the lips. “You’re amazing. And that’s exactly how I want you.”
His voice is fond, and I can tell he’s pretty far gone in arousal himself—so I don’t begrudge his words. “So have you proved yourself yet, or is there more?”
“There is definitely more.” The hot promise in his eyes makes me shiver. “Get up on the couch.”
Since that will be more comfortable than getting fucked on the floor, I don’t hesitate to climb up to the couch.
He turns around so he’s facing me, but he doesn’t stand up like I expect. “Aren’t you getting up?”
“Not yet.”
I’ve tucked my legs up under my ass, but he reaches out to straighten them, spreading them out so his shoulders are between them as he kneels next to the couch.
I stare down at him like dope. “What’s going on?”
Instead of answering with words, he very slowly undoes the button and zipper
on my jeans and then slides my jeans down over my hips and legs.
I’m trembling when he finally has them off.
I’m completely naked now except for my panties, and the flimsy fabric can’t hide very much. My legs are sprawled far apart, and his head is just at the level of my groin.
He’s gazing at my pussy. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you like this.”
My breath hitches as he strokes his palms up from my knees toward my hips. “You sure haven’t acted like it.”
“That’s because you haven’t been paying attention. I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you, lugging that ridiculous box and then looking all meek and mild with your parents. And every day has only made me want you more.”
His hands have reached my hips, and he grips them to pull my body down, my bottom sliding on the couch toward him. I’m mostly reclining now, but my head is still raised so I can see exactly what he’s doing.
“I wasn’t meek and mild,” I argue, figuring I better say something so he won’t think I’m nothing but a pile of mush.
“I said you looked meek and mild.” He rubs his jaw along the side of my knee, his stubble scratchy and deliciously stimulating. “I didn’t say you were meek and mild.”
“Oh.” My breath is quickening again as I watch him turn his head to press kisses on the reddened skin of my inner thigh.
Then he starts to trail the kisses up toward where I really want them.
“Oh, God,” I mumble, closing my eyes, knowing what will come soon. My whole body starts to tighten in preparation.
“Open your eyes, princess.”
I open them without thinking and stare across my body at him.
He’s breathing heavily, and a sheen of perspiration has broken out on his face. “I don’t want you to be self-conscious or try to control it.”
“I wasn’t—” I broke off the words because they’d be a lie. I have no idea how I’m supposed to receive something like this without squeezing my eyes shut and trying to hang on to some semblance of control.
“Just breathe,” he murmurs, checking to make sure my eyes are open before he starts his path of kisses again. When he’s about halfway up my inner thigh, he says, “Open your legs wider for me.”
He can open them himself, but I know he wants me to do more than just take what he gives me.
I splay my legs farther apart until there’s no protection between him and my hot, wet arousal. Nothing but my little panties.
My whole body tenses up.
“Just breathe, princess.” He strokes my thighs, more of a massage than a caress, and I gradually relax under his touch. “Good, baby. So good.”
I give a little whimper as he lowers his head toward my groin. I’m pulsing, throbbing, so turned on I can hardly wrap my mind around it.
“Fuck, you smell so good.” It sounds like he means it, and he takes a few slow breaths, his face not quite nuzzling. “I love how much you want me.”
Part of me wants to object, but there is no way to counter the claim, since he’s less than an inch away from tangible evidence of how desperately I want him.
Then finally—finally—he nuzzles against the fabric of my panties.
I let out a loud, embarrassing gasp of pleasure at the sensation.
“That’s right,” he murmurs, still just gently rubbing his mouth and jaw against me through the fabric. “Don’t fight it, princess. Just let go.”
There’s no way I’m not going to let go. There’s no way I can possibly fight this. I moan helplessly as his tongue darts out to give a quick little stroke, the damp fabric not dulling the sensation at all.
He teases me with his lips and tongue until I’m almost sobbing, and then he finally slides down my panties so I’m completely naked, completely bared to his sight.
He muffles a groan as he lowers his head again, holding me by my bottom to move me in the position he wants.
I’m mumbling out all kinds of helpless words as he starts to pleasure me again, and my thighs tense up automatically, start to close around his head.
He lifts his head, which is not a good thing at all. I might express my disappointment—just a little.
“I’m sorry, princess. You’re about to strangle me. You’re still trying to hold onto control.”
“Fuck, I want to come so bad.” I’m usually not in the habit of talking crudely, but these circumstances definitely warrant it.
“You will. I promise you will.” He eases my thighs apart and bends up my knees. “Hold onto your knees. Try to let go and let me do this for you.”
Letting go is clearly not my strong suit, but this is by far the best sex I’ve ever had in my life—even without any orgasms yet—so I’m willing to try something new. I grip my knees, holding my legs apart to make room for his head, and this time I manage not to close my thighs around the pleasure.
“Good,” he says against my flesh. He’s teasing and nuzzling and licking and—fuck it all—sucking. Doing things to my body I didn’t know were possible. “That’s so good, princess. Just let go. Don’t think about anything except how good you feel.”
Pretty soon, it starts to feel so good again that I begin to make more embarrassing noises. They seem to spur him on, though, since he hums guttural approval as I gasp, moan, and mumble out how good it is, how much more I want, how I never want him to stop.
My whole body starts to tighten as he focuses down on my clit, teasing it with his tongue and then closing his lips around it with hard suction.
I come undone completely, crying out ridiculously loud as my body shakes through the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life.
My pussy is still clenching when he raises his head, his expression pleased and almost primitive. He slips a finger into me and I clench all around him. He strokes until I have another little orgasm, gasping in shock as it rises up unexpectedly.
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” I mumble, my body relaxing at last, completely limp.
He’s kissing his way up my body, raising himself from his knees as he does so until he’s above me on the couch. “That was so good,” he murmurs, “You let go so beautifully. It was the hottest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I feel rather pleased with myself, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s on top of me now, his hot, hard, heavy body pressing me into the cushions. “Now do I get to get fucked?” I ask, sliding my hands up and down his back over his shirt.
“Oh, yeah. You’re going to get fucked like you never have before.”
Okay, so that totally turns me on—as if I needed any help in that department. But, still, there’s a principle here, so I say, “Now you’re sounding conceited again.”
“It’s only conceit if you can’t deliver.”
“And you think you can?”
“Fuck, yeah, I can deliver.”
Call me gullible, but I totally believe him.
We kiss for a while—longer than I expect, since I can tell he’s really far gone now and having trouble holding back. Then I start to fumble at his trousers again, wanting to finally get the damned things off.
“Hold on,” he says hoarsely, breaking the kiss almost painfully.
“What now?” So I sounded a little frustrated and impatient. Who can blame me?
“Let’s do it this way.” He raises himself up into a sitting position on the couch and pulls me over him so I’m straddling his lap the way I had before.
I frown down on him. “Why do I have to be on top?”
“You get to be on top.”
“Why do I get to be on top?”
“Because you said you’d do as I said, as long as I wasn’t an ass.” His eyes are crawling over me in that way I really like, but that also makes me feel self-conscious.
I’m not actually used to being on top. Carter would have let me if I’d asked, but I never did—since he obviously preferred to be the one in control. It was easier for me that way, to feel like he was doing things to me, to feel like I
could be passive and take what he gave me.
I usually liked what he gave me, so it wasn’t like I was getting a raw deal.
“Okay,” I say, not wanting to make a big deal about it, even though it feels like a big deal. “Can I see what you’ve got now?”
He twitches his eyebrows at me, hiding a smile. “Be careful,” he warns, “or what I’ve got isn’t going to last very long.”
I snicker at this, the humor surprising me. But I heed his warning and, very carefully, undo his button and zipper and push down his pants and underwear until I’ve freed his cock.
Now, it’s not like I have a huge base of comparison here, but I am very happy with what I see.
He sucks in a harsh breath as I stroke him. He groans softly, his eyes never leaving me, and his body tightens palpably, even more than before. It’s strange, and I’m not sure how to describe it. But it’s like he’s holding himself back, like he’s reining in something he can’t dare to set free.
I notice it for just a minute before he pulls me into a kiss, and then my reflective abilities vanish completely.
My hands and his cock are trapped between our bodies as we kiss, and I’m sweating when we finally break away. He raises me up higher onto my knees, and I know exactly why.
He comes up with a condom from his back pocket—which is a relief, since I would have hated to go around looking for one—and I roll it on.
Then there’s nothing else. He holds his cock in place and I position myself above it, lowering myself slowly until he’s sheathed inside me.
He’s big, and I’m small. Plus, I’m kind of tight since it’s been months since I’ve fucked anyone. It’s a really close fit, and the tight penetration makes me groan.
It makes him groan too, although his sounds more like it feels so good he can’t control the sound.
“Okay?” he asks, his hands gripping my hips.
“Yeah. It’s good.” I wriggle to adjust, and pretty soon it’s all good and no discomfort.
“It’s better than good. Your body is perfect for me.” He leans up to kiss me gently. “Your body is made for me.”
Okay, now there’s a little more melting. But I do manage to say, “Maybe it’s the other way around.”
Knowing Jack Page 9