by Amy Johnson
“You are so beautiful, Megan. I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you.” He delivered heavenly kisses down the curve of her throat, her collarbone. She pressed against him, all soft, lush, warm woman. He nearly imploded.
“Yeah?” she breathed. “Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do to me?”
Now that you’ve got me. The words almost did him in. “Anything you want.”
She smiled a lazy crooked smile. “Sounds promising.”
She smothered his response with a thirsty kiss, violently claiming his mouth as hers. Her mouth was hot and sweet and with every thrust and suck of her tongue it was as if she was drinking him in, trying to get her fill. His free hand was exploring the sweet, feminine folds of her now swollen sex. She was on fire and wet and welcoming his touch. He penetrated her with his finger, using his thumb to gently stoke her clitoris, never breaking the kiss. Her body began to shake, tremble. Low, rumbling moans fought their way out of her mouth. When she was almost there, hanging on by a thread, squirming and shaking from his touch, he stopped and began working his way down her body with his tongue. She tried to free her hands. Again he tightened his grip.
“Hold still, woman or I’ll handcuff you,” he said teasingly.
“You have handcuffs?” And damned if she didn’t sound intrigued. What a woman! He tilted his head up and gave her a predatory grin.
“Maybe later,” he told her not wanting to let go of her long enough to get them. “Right now I’m busy.”
“Uh Jack, my shoes?” He looked at her feet in those sexy, black, stilettos and bit his tongue. “Leave ‘em on. They’ll look good on my shoulders,” he replied.
He turned his attention–and his tongue-to her breasts, licking, tasting then slowly, softly captured each rosy nipple with his teeth, sending her writhing beneath him. He dragged his tongue down to her naval, admiring the slight slope and curve. He planted tender kisses to each hipbone, the inside of each thigh. She violently tried to free her hands, her high heels dug into the mattress. She closed her eyes, moved her head from side to side, moaned sweet sexual sounds and parted her long, toned legs further.
And the gates of heaven opened.
He kissed her there, dragging his tongue along every hot, wet fold of pink flesh. She cried out, and her breath came faster, shorter. He took her cue and allowed his tongue to explore her more thoroughly, rougher while he used his hand to taunt and tease her breasts, her nipples. Licking, lapping, milking her, savoring her scent, her taste, the smooth, slick texture of her sex.
A scream escaped her mouth –“Oh God, Oh Jack, Oh my…” and she fell apart, her body shaking, her legs trembling. He rested his head on her belly and stared up at her face, her head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted. She looked like sex personified and it was without a doubt the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He could spend the rest of his life looking at her just like this and it wouldn’t be enough.
He snatched the condom from beside her—luckily he’d had enough blood left in his brain to think to remove it from his shirt pocket and have it handy— and ripped the silver packet open with his teeth, covered himself and brought his body back over hers.
He looked into those gorgeous, sated, blue eyes and entered her slowly, not wanting to hurt her. Her muscles clamped down hard around his cock, accepting him, inviting him. His body was smoldering. He released one of her hands catching it with his free hand and pinned them both on either side of her head. She arched her hips up to meet his thrusts, taking him deeper, further until he became a part of her. He found a comfortable rhythm and they rocked together, their heartbeats pounding, their flesh glistened with sweat, their bodies a perfect fit.
Megan wrapped her legs around his waist and he felt her shoes bucking against his back. He came to his knees, still inside her, bringing her up with him, released her hands and patted his shoulders. “Right here. Let’s see ‘em.”
She obediently complied with that fantasy and placed her delicate feet encased in those elegant high heels on his shoulders and he wrapped his hands around her small, pretty ankles.
“God, Megan you feel so good,” he breathed. She began to shake again and rocked her hips rapidly speeding up their rhythm. With every thrust, her muscles contracted around him, squeezing him, milking him. He fought for control.
She screamed, her voice penetrating the sex filled air and she lost it again, her body convulsing wildly, a smile curving her lips, her eyes heavy lidded and erotic.
They locked eyes as she rode the waves of her release and purred, in between strained breaths, “Jack, — I’ve — wanted you — for — so long.”
She wanted him. That was it. He gripped her ankles, slammed into her hard one last time, jerked his head back and as his own release shook his body he too screamed her name in a low, thick rumble, just before he collapsed on top of her breathless, satisfied, the happiest man on earth.
She ran her fingers through his hair massaging his scalp, which lay on her chest, listening to her rapid heartbeat.
“Told you I’d make you scream,” she said. “Now about those handcuffs…”
Chapter SeventeenHoly Mary, Mother of God! If she hadn’t felt so boneless and thoroughly satisfied she’d of danced a jig. Jack was incredible. In ten years of marriage to Ted, the minute man, she’d never felt so alive, so elated, so…passionate. In the first couple years of her their marriage Ted had been a generous if not fantastic lover. Nothing as heart stopping as one night with Jack but still he held his own. But as the time passed, Ted became selfish in bed and when they did have sex it was quick, boring, and all about him. Wam bam thank you ma’am, now go to sleep and don’t touch me. So different from Jack with his hot demanding hands, his undivided attention to her needs, his intent on driving her insane until she came so hard she just about passed out, all the while penetrating her with those ashen brown eyes full of…love.?
And what the hell was she thinking? In her current state of affairs love was the last thing she needed. She wasn’t even divorced yet, her husband’s girlfriend was pregnant and the paternity was at best questionable, she had a pair of knucklehead drug dealers hounding her, her mother was on Zoloft, her father was oblivious to everything but his remote control, and her Granny was dating when she wasn’t busy getting expelled from nursing homes. Talk about dysfunction.
If Jack were a smart man, he’d run like hell and never look back.
She tilted her head up to glance at Jack, his face hard planes in the dim light, his smoldering eyes closed with sleep, his broad chest heaving slowly in a slow, steady rhythm. She had her head on his chest and both of his arms embraced her in a sensual, protective hold.
She felt something for him. It was definitely deeper than lust of infatuation, but love? Oh, who was she kidding? She was hooked, line and sinkered. Toast. Not that she would ever admit it. Maybe she could keep things light, sexual…casual.
Nope that would probably never do. Jack didn’t seem like a casual kind of guy and in all honesty Megan knew she wasn’t either. She could never open her legs for a man without opening her heart first.
And that’s what she’d done with Jack, although she didn’t know it at first. It had been building, growing and now looking back she couldn’t see how she’d missed it.
It scared the hell out of her.
It was too fast, too strong, and too damn confusing. It was an emotional overload that sent her head spinning. She caressed Jack’s chest, her touch light as a gentle breeze. He caught his breath and shifted a little and she noticed his heavy erection pressing against her thigh.
She wanted him again.
He obviously wanted her.
He’d taken her three more times last night and although he never broke out the handcuffs, promising he would later, she hadn’t missed them. Jack Westin didn’t need props, he was incredible without them.
She was so sore she was afraid she couldn’t move yet the anticipation and excitement of him inside her, filling her so comp
letely, masked her physical discomfort. She reached for him and took his length in her hand. His muscles tightened but he didn’t wake. Slowly she lowered her head past his belly and near his sex, her hair tickling the skin on his hard abdomen. He shivered.
Teasingly she licked him and delivered sweet, hot kisses to his already throbbing erection. His body jerked and his eyes shot open. After a second he tangled his hand in her hair.
“Megan.”
“Shhh, I want to satisfy you,” she whispered and he began to slowly circle her back with one hand and loosened the grip on her hair with the other one.
She continued what she was doing with the lightest touch and if possible, his erection grew. She heard a low groan come from his throat and reverberate throughout the room. She smiled and experimented, tasting him, taunting him, taking him.
***
“I’m satisfied,” he managed.
Jack was on the edge of losing control. He’d fallen asleep with Megan in his arms, on his mind, and in his dreams. And awoken to her…down there doing things to him that should be downright illegal. It’s not like this was his first experience with oral sex. He’d had plenty, but this was Megan and her touch completely set him on fire. Not that he was complaining. He just wasn’t used to his dreams coming true.
This one certainly had.
“Just tell me what to do, Jack,” she said her voice a little uncertain, thick with eagerness and emotion.
“Umm, you’re doing fine,” he ground out through clenched teeth, feeling more than touched that she was so worried about his needs.
“But I want to please you,” she whispered and Jack felt his heart expand. Hearing those words almost did him in. He pulled her up to him and kissed her silly. He’d meant for the kiss to be gentle and reassuring but around Megan he couldn’t keep his self-control and almost before it started the kiss was rough and hungry, and bordering on the line of insanity. He broke the kiss, panting.
“Sweetheart, I woke up with you in my bed, your tongue on my cock. I’d say I’m pleased.”
She frowned. “I know, but I’ve never, um, done that before and I wasn’t sure I was doing it right.” The emotion in her eyes broke his heart. “I wanted it to feel good.”
He laughed. He knew it was the wrong moment but he couldn’t stifle it. “It felt good, babe. Better than good. Earth shattering.”
She smiled. His heart exploded. “Really?” she asked.
He took her then, pinning her beneath him, kissing her crooked mouth, caressing her breast, spreading her legs with his thigh. Before any logic reached his brain he was inside her and she felt so good, so tight and wet and accepting. He froze. He wasn’t wearing a condom. Never before had he ever lost his head like this and practiced unprotected sex.
Never had he been so in love with a woman that he lost control from just her touch, the pouty set of her lips in a smile, or the tenderness in her eyes.
Never before had he made love to Megan Johnson.
Megan stilled beneath him aware of his uneasiness. “What’s wrong?”
Hell if he knew. “I forgot a condom,” he said truthfully. Her eyes widened and he quickly added, “I just lost my head Megan. I didn’t even think about it. All I could think about was you and your touch and how much I love making love to you and…” She wiggled under him forcing him deeper inside her. “And, oh my God, you feel so wonderful without the barrier of a condom…” She moved again and his thought process disintegrated. “Quit moving, woman, I’m trying to think here.”
“I was just trying to get comfortable,” she said.
Alarm rocked through him. He’d taken her relentlessly all night. “Are you sore? Did I hurt you?” The thought of hurting her just about killed him.
He remained completely still. “No,” she said, but he wasn’t buying. She gave a wary smile, “A little maybe, but it feels…wonderful anyway.” He narrowed his eyes at her. She should have told him. She’d been so intent in bringing him pleasure that she hadn’t even thought of herself. His heart ached. Seeing his expression change, she added hastily, “I don’t want you to stop, though. I want you to make love to me.”
He debated. She was hurting and that was more than he could take. He wasn’t wearing protection and they were taking a big risk there. And she felt so damn soft and warm and sweet and the feel of his naked flesh against hers was beyond description. He resented the need for a condom and damn it, he didn’t want to leave her body.
Not now. Not ever.
He was a selfish bastard, he decided.
At a total loss he asked her, “Tell me what you want me to do sweetheart? We can stop, if you’re too raw or wary of our lack of protection.”
“I’m fine, Jack. I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me.” Seeing the concern on his face she added quickly. “Really, it’s OK.”
Jack closed his eyes. “I’ll be careful, baby.” Slowly, very slowly, he pulled almost completely out and eased back in. She arched her hips and he nestled his head in her bosom giving her taut nipples the attention they deserved. He suckled and nipped, as he tenderly thrust into her. She responded with her body and ran her hands along his back, his shoulders.
Slowly sliding into her slick wetness when they were both ultrasensitive was blurring his brain, his release begging to come out. But he fought to hold control wanting her to get there too.
As if on cue her breaths became short and rapid, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, sweet moans escaping her throat. He kissed her throat, her temples, her forehead and then as her body began to shake he landed his gaze on her tightly closed eyes.
“Open your eyes sweetheart. I want to see you,” he ordered softly and when she did he plunged into her so deep he felt her womb and he hoped she was almost there because he couldn’t hold back much longer. She trembled, dug her teeth into her bottom lip and then she exploded beneath him, her body writhing, her soft moans transforming into a scream. He stared into those heavenly blue eyes, now dark and dilated from the adrenaline of her release and he felt tears sting his own eyes, his heart swell with pride and contentment. She smiled and released a lazy sigh of pleasure.
“I never dreamed I could feel this good,” she said. “so happy, so satisfied, so…full. I love the way you love me, Jack. Promise me you’ll never stop.”
He didn’t intend to.
Hearing those words, along with the lump in his throat and the feel of him inside her, her body clamping down on him, he thrust three more times before he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a low, deep groan, he spent himself on her stomach and because his entire body had turned to Jell-O, both emotionally and physically, he collapsed beside her, too drained to move. She absently raked her fingers across his chest and down his abdomen, in light, loving strokes.
He fought hard to keep the words of love from tumbling out of his mouth. It was too soon and she had to be emotionally and physically drained.
He was able to stand without falling flat on his face and he went into the adjoined bathroom and warmed a washrag to clean her with. From the mirror over the sink he caught her reflection, sprawled out gloriously naked in his bed, looking like a bent angel, with a satisfied glow.
His angel. Whether she knew it yet or not.
Returning to the bed, he gently bathed her stomach, her inner thighs. She stared down at him with big, blue eyes that melted his heart, turned his bones to putty. He took the rag back to the bathroom and tossed it in the hamper, then shook two Advil from the bottle and got a glass of water. When he returned to the bed, Megan was already dozing.
He smiled. She had to be beat and she looked so peaceful he almost didn’t want to disturb her. He was also worried about her being in pain. Because of him and his lack of restraint.
He ran the side of his thumb across her forehead. She opened her eyes, stretched and smiled. His heart fluttered. “Here, sweetheart. Take these.”
She sat up and reached for the glass. “What is it?”
“Advil, honey. You’re goin
g to be really sore. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” She frowned but popped the pills in her mouth and took a long thirsty gulp of water. Jack felt like a bastard. “I’m sorry Megan. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I…”
She waved her hand in her air. “Jack, I woke you up remember? You have nothing to be sorry about.” He frowned and she added reassuringly, “I’m fine anyway. I just had a gorgeous man make love to me all night long in the sweetest and most satisfying ways. I feel alive and content and too damn happy to move. If I’m a little sore tomorrow, it’ll be worth it because right now I feel like the luckiest girl alive.” She socked him in the shoulder. “So quit fretting and hold me, damn it.”
Smiling, he lay beside her and circled his arms around her waist, spooning her from behind. She thought he was gorgeous. She thought she was lucky. She had it backwards. He was the lucky one and he hoped his luck never ran out.
***
Megan’s house was empty when she arrived home the next morning. Jack brought her home, did a quick walk through of the house and, satisfied that everything was OK, he headed off to his office to return his calls and get some paperwork done. He’d be by around lunchtime. At first he’d insisted on her spending the beautiful Wednesday morning in bed at his house but she had been anxious to get home. With the Madrino’s in jail for now, Ted gone, and Granny at Mickey’s, she felt safe being home and was looking forward to some alone time to think about Ted, Jack, and how things had gone from boring to bedlam in just under two weeks.
Plus she wanted to bring the pups’ home. She missed them like crazy. Spot needed a little quality time and her column was due tomorrow.
She smiled thinking about the email that spurred everything. Passion or comfort. She’d experienced both now and her mind was definitely made up. Passion won in a heartbeat. Now the question is does it fade and if so, can you keep it alive with a balanced level of comfort. Something that would stand the test of time.