Jahleel

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Jahleel Page 24

by S. Ann Cole


  “And what do you hope for?”

  “A man in a red hoodie?”

  He let out loud laugh, then all of a sudden got serious, saying, “‘Kay, I get it: Faceless Hoodie Guy is to you what Headless Singing Girl is to me.”

  “Something like that…”

  Jahleel moved, and the next thing I knew, his mouth was on mine and I was on my back, him crowding on top of me. He groaned deep in my mouth and pressed his erection against me, an agonizing yet arousing sound vibrating in his throat.

  There was no choice but to kiss him back, because, sure, we’ve kissed before, a lot, but now, he was claiming my mouth. With a certain greed. A deep need. Moans and ragged breaths against my lips…something was happening here.

  “Saskia,” he breathed my name in quiet reverence, like a prayer.

  Using one hand to grip my face, he roughly tipped it up and directed his lips to my neck, dropping kisses like hot fireballs. Latching on to soft skin right above my collarbone, he sucked hard, the sting from it a unique taste of pleasure. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

  But I was his to mark.

  Releasing my flesh, he rose up above me and poked his thumbs through the sheer bra-top, ripping it in two. With an impassioned expression, he cupped my breasts, gently rolling my nipples in the centre of his palms. As if I could’ve gotten any wetter, I did.

  He’d never been like this with me before. So different. Possessive, earnest, intense. I was left with letting him do whatever he wanted with me. And hoping this new attitude meant we were finally going to be together, because a finger orgasm sure as hell wouldn’t suffice tonight. Not with all this heat and passion, with how intensely hot he was making me. This was different. Better end different.

  Jahleel’s hooded gaze drifted back to my face. “You’re all kinds of beautiful, Sassy. Crazy fuckin’ beautiful.”

  “Are we—” I tried to catch my breath. “Are we—”

  “Are you mine?” he asked in earnest, eyes a blazing fire.

  “I’ve always been yours, JK.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Exclusive?” I begged. “Please…” Don’t hurt me, I wanted to add.

  “Yes,” he promised, before dipping his head to suck a nipple into his fire-hot mouth.

  Back arching, I moaned and squirmed beneath him, an unstable mess, impatient to have him.

  Swift, adept and pleasure-loaded, his tongue flicked over and around my nipple, giving it a sharp nip before moving over to the next to deliver equal pleasure, his hand kneading the other.

  Leaving my nipples to quiver for more of his mouth’s wet heat, he kissed and licked a sweet, tantalizing path down my abs.

  “Have thought about runnin’ my tongue down these packs over a million times…” he whispered.

  “You dreamed of something you’ve always had.”

  Jahleel hooked his thumbs in the side of my knickers, sliding them down my legs. He removed the towel from around his waist, his cock springing up. Stiff, hard, red and ready.

  I licked my lips, aching to have it inside me. I couldn’t wait. No. No more waiting.

  But Jahleel pushed my legs wide apart, smoothing his hands down my inner thighs, his lower lip trapped between his teeth.

  I just wanted him to enter me, but knowing the unpredictable sod he was, I bit my own lip to keep quiet. I was trying not to come from the way he was regarding me, my body, with reverence—with the gentle but scorching touches of his hands, and the sight of his beautiful cock pointing readily at my entrance.

  Sliding down my body, he put his lips in direct line with mine below. I stilled, waiting, anticipating, until I felt the heat of his breath blowing on my clit, slow and controlled.

  My hips thrust up on their own, aiming to make contact with his mouth, but he dodged, blowing gently on me, making me bloody tormented, wild, writhing without a single touch.

  “JK…”

  “Yes?”

  “Please…”

  “Please, what?”

  Mild humour coloured his voice, and I was reminded of his penchant for screwing around with me. Frigging demon.

  “JK, please,” I urged.

  He paused, his lips so close. “What do you want, Sassy?”

  “I want…I want…” Oh God. “Fucking suck me! Lick me. Eat me.”

  The amusement was still there when he said, “All you had to do was ask,” and sucked my clit into his mouth.

  My hips jerked up off the bed at the long anticipated move. “Ahhhh, yes.”

  Releasing my clit from his deep suction, he flicked it about with his tongue, driving me insane. I kept thrusting up my hips, trying to grind on his mouth, but he pressed his palm down on my pelvis to keep me stable. With his free hand, he slid one finger inside me, then another, his tongue beating a steady tattoo on my clit, his fingers working in perfect symphony.

  It wasn’t long before I felt the familiar tingle creeping up the back of my knees, the tell-tale sign my orgasm was near.

  When Jahleel withdrew his fingers from me and used his forefinger to flick the über-sensitive tip of my clit—one, two, three times—an unheralded orgasm ripped through me like a frigging copper bullet. Busting me into smithereens.

  I came hard. Long. Loud.

  As he was used to doing, Jahleel kept his palm flat over my folds until I was calmed.

  Coming back up above me, he gave me a quick kiss before setting his wide, engorged head at my entrance. “Birth control?”

  Still out of breath, far from recovered, I nodded. “Injection.”

  “My check-up was clean last week. You?”

  “Yes. I’m clean,” I fussed in impatience. “Just fuck me. Please.”

  As he pushed in an inch, he paused, took a steadying breath, then asked, “Slow or hard?”

  “What?” I breathed, semiconscious.

  “How do you fuckin’ want me, Sassy?” he growled. “Say it. Quick.”

  As starved as I was for him at the moment, I wanted to savour him, so I told him, “Slow.”

  “Shit,” he grumbled under his breath, sounding like he hoped for the opposite.

  His hips flexed and his dick moved farther and farther in, taking me, claiming me, filling me, sealing us. When he was fully inside me, he stilled and took another breath, eyes closed.

  He needed a minute.

  Bringing my hands up to his chest, I moaned at the feel of his hard muscles under my skin, because now I was free to touch him—something I was restricted from doing before.

  As he began moving slowly in and out of me, I rubbed my thumbs over his taut nipples.

  He stopped and stared at me. “If you keep doing that, Sassy, I won’t be able to go slow. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.”

  Like a chastened child, I moved my hands down to his abs instead while he flexed his hips in and out, eyes hooded, expression strained, as if going slow was a difficult task.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I brought my hands up around his neck and pulled him down to kiss me, unable to believe this was even happening. Jahleel Kingston was on top of me, inside me, fucking me. I’ve dreamed a million dreams about what this moment, should it ever happen, would be like. And even with a million dreams, a million fantasies, this was a gazillion times better.

  Right this moment, I was living my dream. My dream was never to become a rich and famous superstar. My dream had always been to make love with Jahleel Kingston, have him fall in love with me—as backward as it sounded.

  I pushed up against him, wanting to get closer, wanting to crawl inside him.

  Too soon, he broke our kiss, pulling out of me and eased up onto his knees. “I’m sorry. I’ve tried. But I can’t do slow.”

  Grasping both my legs, he bent them and pushed them down to my chest.

  “Yessss…” he whispered, looking down at me open wide and exposed for him. “Wrap your arms around your thighs to keep them there.”

  When I did, quivering for him, he positioned his head at
my entrance once more, then, lifting his darkened gaze to mine, plunged deep inside me, while I screamed out like a bitch…his bitch.

  Then he moved, not rushed or frenetic, but deep, hard and steady. Each thrust harder than the last, each thrust paving its path, branding me, bruising. His eyes remained on mine, reading me, as he moved fluidly, deftly, calculatedly, fucking me like fucking was art to him. Like it should be done precisely, properly, perfectly, without falter.

  A deep, feral groan sounded in his throat, his eyes shuttering down as he lowered on top of me, forcing me to let go of my thighs.

  Burying his face in the curve of my neck, he moaned incomprehensible sounds against my skin, until I felt him marking my flesh again.

  “Ohhhh, God,” I whimpered as I felt another orgasm on the horizon, moving in on the ocean waves.

  Before I could register his intentions, Jahleel pulled out of me and flipped me on my side in one smooth, experienced move, as if I weighed nothing, causing me to let out a squeal at the sudden and unexpected change of position.

  Getting behind me, he hitched up my right leg in the crook of his arm and wasted no time plunging into me from behind.

  “JK!” I cried out, holstered in euphoric pleasure.

  “Mmnh?” he groaned in response, plunging into me over and over without pause, dragging me there.

  “You feel…so damn good inside me.”

  “Mmmmmnh,” he groaned again, lost in his own nirvana.

  “You own me, Jahleel.”

  “I know, babe.”

  With that, he flexed his hips up and into me, then kept himself buried there, no movements, just our harsh breathing, me teetering on the brink, and him…up to something.

  Suddenly he did an indescribable gyration of his hips and touched something, somewhere buried deep inside me, and the most intense, profound feeling had me garbling out unintelligible words, unsure of how or what I was feeling.

  Out of my body, out of my mind.

  He did it again, and I let out a long mewl like a cat, because I couldn’t understand what the fuck he was doing or what the fuck I was feeling.

  Again he did it, and I unexpectedly came with a loud, unladylike growl, my toes curled tightly, my fists balled, as an unprecedented feeling lanced right through me, splitting me in two, wounding me up tight like a coil and then springing me free.

  My orgasm roiled on forever. Unwinding and never-ending.

  Jahleel didn’t start moving again until my muscles relaxed, even though my heart beat wildly and erratically in my chest, as if I had just outran Usain Bolt.

  “W-w-what the fuck was that?” I squeezed out.

  Ignoring the question, he began pounding me from behind, his groans getting louder, his grunts deeper.

  Soon, his fingers sank into my flesh, gripping my arm, as he again buried his face into the crook of my neck, his pumps getting faster, wilder.

  With a muffled “Saskia” into my neck, he made one deep, hard slam into me and stilled, his warmth flooding me, his cock pulsating, his breathing harsh against my skin, his heartbeat hammering against my back.

  When he was back to earth, he released my leg from the crook of his arm, slid out of me and flipped me over to face him, brushing my wild ripples over my shoulder.

  “Being inside you,” he breathed against my lips, “is heaven.”

  Unable to speak as yet, I passed the pad of my thumb over that bottom lip he was always sinking his teeth into. It was slightly swollen, with fresh grooved marks of his teeth imprinted, as he’d no doubt sank his teeth onto it when he came.

  His eyes slit open, limp damp hair falling down into his face, beads of sweat on his forehead, breathing far from returning to regular.

  He was beautiful. And now he was mine. He promised me exclusivity. He gave himself to me.

  With that thought, when our breathing returned to normal, I found myself saying it…because, at this point, why not, right?

  “I’m in love with you, JK.”

  Breath held, I watched as his eyes closed down at the confession, his jaw tightening. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to face it. He was shutting it out.

  Letting out a clearly forced laugh, he said, “I’ve been here before.”

  “What?” I asked in confusion.

  “You women,” he said lazily, reposed. “Sleep with me once, and the next thing I know, you’re spouting off love confessions.”

  When I stiffened in his arms, he opened his eyes. They were hard and empty. The fire and passion just there minutes ago, gone.

  “You are the biggest arse I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

  Voice flat and devoid of emotion, he responded, “Then why’d you let me fuck you?”

  “I just told you why…” I whispered, so low I barely heard myself. I couldn’t…I couldn’t understand what was happening.

  “Why?” he demanded with a cruel edge, meant to make me feel like nothing and nobody. “Why the fuck would you do that, stupid girl? Why go and ruin everyfuckingthing?”

  Enraged and hurt, his words twisting a knife deep into my heart, I took a breath, ready to light him up with a string of expletives, because I was hating him so much at that moment. How could he just switch on me like that? Be so loving one minute and so cruel the next?

  Before I could start my diatribe, Jahleel drew back and held up a hand. “Look, I’m not in the mood to argue. Besides, it’s fuckin’ rainin’ and I don’t even have a vehicle here to get the fuck away from you.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I tried to find the strength to hold them back so he couldn’t steal anymore of me, so he couldn’t win. But the weak part of me, the part that belonged wholly and completely to the man verbally hurting me at the moment, couldn’t hold the tears in. Instead, they flowed out in endless wet streams down my face, while Jahleel watched me without emotion. He was unmoved by my tears, as if he’d seen it all before.

  “You’re…h-hurting me,” I sniffled out.

  Getting up to his feet, he shrugged. “You were warned.”

  As he turned and started towards the bathroom, I stood up and yelled at his back, fat tears rolling, nose running, “I hate you! I fucking hate you! I wish, oh how I wish I never fucking knew you. At all.”

  He stopped when those simple words penetrated whatever wall he had up. He stood there for a moment until he shook his head as if clearing it and his shoulders fell.

  A raging demon entered me and I ran to him and began pounding my fists on his back, screaming how much I hated him.

  When he turned around, he gripped my arms to stop my flailing fists. I immediately saw arsehole Jahleel gone and replaced by the Jahleel who had just made love to me. His eyes were soft and apologetic, his posture defeated, his voice humbled, “Sassy, stop. You don’t mean that.”

  Holding on to my dignity (even though we were both butt naked), I stubbornly raised my chin and jerked from his grip, taking a few steps back. “I meant every word, JK.”

  “Yes, you do. The words from earlier. But not these words. You don’t hate me.”

  As he took a step in my direction, I moved back and pointed an angry finger at him. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you bloody dare!”

  But my warning went unheeded as he moved in swift and smooth, grabbed my face and kissed me deep. I tried to fight him off, but he kept my face firm in his hold, forcing me to accept his kiss.

  When he realized I wasn’t giving in, he ripped his lips away and wrapped his arms around me in a way that trapped my arms at my sides, in case I was still inclined to fight.

  “I’m sorry,” he fiercely apologized, “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not!” I barked in his face. “You’re right! You are what you are: an arse! I don’t want you anymore! I don’t want you.”

  Forcefully moving me to the bed, he pushed me back on it, and before I could lurch up, he braced down on top of me, pinning me. “You’re right and wrong. I’m an ass. But I truly am sorry, Sassy.” He dropped apologetic kisses al
l over me, kept me restricted. “I never meant any of it. Don’t say you hate me. I’m sorry for hurtin’ you.”

  He kept kissing me everywhere. Soft, tender, soothing kisses. “Babe…please…Am I forgiven?”

  Even though his kisses were wiping away my hurt and anger, replacing them with love and passion, I said nothing.

  I must not give in. I must not give in. I don’t love him. I do hate him.

  Jahleel moved a hand down between us, and before I could stop him, he pushed into me.

  I tried to suppress a moan, but it weaselled its way out in a satisfying, “unhhhhhh.”

  “I’ll go slow, babe. I’ll go slow,” he soothingly whispered, dropping his forehead to mine, genuine apology evident in his eyes, his expression. “Please, forgive me. I-I…I am… Forgive me, Saskia.”

  My eyelids fluttered down as he moved slowly in and out, a peaceful calm settling over me. Even if he didn’t want to hear it, and even if it was stupid of me, I was in love with him and I couldn’t help it.

  So when he flexed deep into me with a pleasurable flow, asking once more, “Am I forgiven?” I reopened my eyes, locked them with his and answered with a foolish, but unapologetic, “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jahleel wasn’t next to me when I woke up the next morning. But, uncharacteristically, a short note was left on the pillow next to me:

  Have an important early meeting. Took Ferbz’s bike.

  Last night? Unforgettable.

  I’ll ache for you all day.

  P.S I’m still sorry.

  Folding the note until it was a minuscule piece of hard paper in my palm, I tossed it in the nightstand drawer and slugged out of bed. I remembered the hurt from the night before, but it was fleeting, considering he spent the rest of night trying to make it up to me.

  I heard his apology, I felt it, and I saw it.

  I wouldn’t try to find an excuse for his behaviour or try to justify it. But I could forgive. And he was forgiven, sin forgotten.

 

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