by Jessa James
“Carter?”
He lowered his head to my belly and placed a gentle kiss there, looked up at me through his thick lashes. “I’m going to fuck you, Emma. I want to be bare inside you, but I don’t know if you’re ready for what I want.”
I was pretty sure I knew where this was going, but I had to ask anyway. “What do you want?”
Both of us kneeling, he pulled me forward, chest to chest and looked down into my eyes. “I want to fuck you until you scream. I want you raw. I want to feel every hot inch of your pussy stroking my hard cock.”
“Yes.” I wanted that, too. I wanted to feel him, no barrier between us.
“I want my baby growing inside you.”
I froze, my body heated with the very idea. “Carter, I’m—”
He shushed me with kisses. “Not yet. I know you aren’t ready. But soon.”
I nodded. Soon was okay with me. But not tonight. “I’m on the pill for cramps.” Reaching for the buckle of his pants, I smiled. “No condom, Carter.”
Carter let me get his pants unbuckled, but that was the end of his control. Jumping to his feet, he stripped off the rest of his clothes while I knelt before him, mesmerized. This gorgeous, perfect man was mine. All mine.
And I wanted, wanted the cock that bobbed right in front of my face. I wanted to taste him, to lick that pearly drop from the tip.
Grinning, I shifted forward and took the base of his cock with one hand and a firm grip. Before he could get away from me, I sucked him into my mouth until my lips touched my fingers and worked him with my lips and tongue, sliding back and forth, over and over as I lifted my other hand to stroke his balls. I'd never done it before, but that didn't mean I didn't know what to do, or at least the basics.
From the way he groaned, the way his cock jerked in my hold, I knew I was doing something right. When his fingers gripped my hair, he wouldn’t let me have my way for long.
“Enough.” Carter pulled away and lifted me to stand before him.
“I love you.” I had to say it. I was practically overflowing with the strength of my emotion. I'd felt it for so long and now I could tell him, show him.
“You’re dangerous.”
I loved the sound of that. I might be new to the bedroom, but I wanted to please Carter in every possible way. My oral skills were a good start.
Carter stripped my yoga pants in one smooth motion and helped steady me as I stepped out of them. Both naked now, I was shocked when Carter lay down on his back and pulled me on top of him. “Ride me. I won’t last if I fuck you the way I want to. Besides, I want to watch you, see those perfect breasts bounce as you take your pleasure. I want to see your face when you take me deep.”
Girl on top. Yes. I wanted to try that. I wanted to try everything.
Straddling his hips, I reached between us and placed the head of his hard cock at my wet entrance. Slowly, so slowly I sank down on top of him until my bottom rested on his thighs.
We both moaned. I’d never been in this position, and he was so big, so deep. He filled me up and I welcomed the ache, the twinge of pain that reminded me of how hard and fast he’d filled me last night. I wanted that again. More. I needed more.
“Shit. It's so good. I've never done this, Emma. Never gone bare with anyone before. You're my first, too. You're so hot, I can feel every wet inch of you.”
His fingers dug into my hips as he practically lifted me with his arms so that only the tip of his cock was still inside me, before pushing me back down. I helped after that, rising and falling onto his cock with jolts of pleasure that made me cry out.
“Ride me, Emma. Fucking ride me.”
Moving with more confidence, I shifted, grinding my clit against his belly one minute, lifting completely off him the next to move down his length in a slow, wet glide. When I slammed down, taking him fast and deep, he groaned and lifted his hands to my nipples, playing, teasing, making me groan as he pinched and plucked the sensitive tips.
“Carter.” My eyes fell closed, my head tipped back, giving over to him, to what we shared.
I loved this position, but I couldn’t get there. I needed him, so I whimpered.
“I got you.” His right hand stayed on my breast, but his left dropped to my clit and rubbed in hard, fast motions as I continued to lift and lower myself, fucking him.
Faster and faster I moved until my orgasm stole my breath and Carter’s control. He flipped me onto my back and I wrapped my legs around his hips as he fucked me hard and deep. His entire body was hard as granite above me, his face strained as he pounded into me with a wild fury I’d never seen from him before.
His rhythm pushed me over again, and this time he followed me, his hot seed spurting inside me for the first time.
“Mine. You’re mine.” Carter dropped his forehead to mine and stared into my eyes. “I love you, Emma.”
I kissed him over and over, telling him with my touch and my body how much he meant to me. I kissed him until he grew hard again and he could take me slow and easy, our hands locked together along with our lips.
“I might have been your first, sweetheart, but you are my last. My only.” His dark gaze held mine and I saw everything I needed in his eyes. Everything. I saw forever.
Read on for a sneak peek at the next Bad Boy Billionaire…in
Rock Me
Ten years ago, I let her go. She loved me when I was nothing. I have platinum albums, money, fame. I have everything I want…everything but her.
Rock Me:
Chapter One
Kit
Every guy's got a girl that got away. One that rocked his world then fucked up his life. Yeah, I had one. Crystal Kerry. Shit. Just thinking her name was like driving a stake into my heart. Made my balls ache. She'd been perfect. My fucking high school sweetheart. Yeah, sweetheart.
I'd forgotten how fucking crowded New York was and had to cut through all the people on the sidewalk. Shit, it was insane. But, I was a face in a crowd. I wasn't Kit Buchanan, lead singer for Nightbird. I was just a guy lost in a sea of humanity. Thank fuck. My thoughts were on Crystal and I didn't need a fan to grab hold and want a selfie or an autograph across her tits. I wanted to wallow in the one that got away. No, the one I pushed away and crushed, like a tank rolling over a soft, sweet, innocent kitten.
Crystal had been the one. Had been kind and gentle, always a smile for me since the first day of tenth grade. She'd transferred to Whitfield Prep as a scholarship student. Our classmates knew she was from the wrong side of the tracks. Poor. They'd sniffed out her blue-collar background, even though she looked like everyone else in the navy and green school uniform.
It had been hard for her, being new. Being beautiful. All the girls who'd been flirting—and fucking all the guys, suddenly had competition. Not that Crystal ever did anything. Just being pretty was enough. The guys, they called Crystal fresh meat. With her blond hair and pale blue eyes, she was as upper crust looking as everyone else. But unlike her classmates, she didn't know her effect on others. Had no idea she was hot. Not just average hot, that any teenage boy would want to bang, but night after night of wet dreams hot. Or jerking off in the shower just thinking about her perky tits and long legs hot.
That was fine for me to lust after, but not anyone else. Especially not the assholes on the lacrosse team who'd made it their mission to see who'd fuck her first. They'd wanted that scholarship cherry and put bets on it.
I'd shut that shit down fast. My fists landed me with a three-day suspension, but I would have done it again in a heartbeat. No one was going to touch Crystal. No one…but me. She was mine. I knew it the first fucking time I saw her.
My parents had given me hell for getting into the fight. Hell for the suspension. Hell for the hours I spent playing guitar and writing music. I guess I dished it right back. For not being the prodigal son, the future CEO of Bullshit Buchanan Manufacturing, for not being a typical Buchanan. Hell, I'd been born with a silver spoon, but I'd spit it out and grabbed hold of a guitar instead. I'd been the fuc
king black sheep of the family. Still was. And living in that house after my two older brothers graduated from Whitfield and went on to Ivy League schools, the pressure had been on to measure up.
Whatever. I'd given up the chances for that when I was ten and wanted to take guitar lessons instead of playing Beethoven on the piano. I knew I'd never measure up. It hadn't been worth the effort.
As for Crystal, she'd wanted to succeed at Whitfield. Hell, it had been her chance, her opportunity to get out of the shit hole household she had. With a mother who was a doormat to a father who drank too much and held too few jobs, she'd known it was her escape. And she fucking took it. Got A's in all her classes, was valedictorian. She managed to do all this even with me following her around like a lovesick fool. But I loved her, protected her. She was my life and I was so much more than just her boyfriend. I was her best friend. She’d told me everything. Given me everything.
Yeah, she'd taken one look at me and melted. Somehow, by some fucking miracle, she’d fallen in love with my rough edges, the fact that I didn't fit in, didn't give a fuck. She knew I was her protector, that I'd do anything for her. We might've been each other's firsts, but I hadn't taken that scholarship cherry. No. She'd given it to me one night in the back of my pickup. We'd been in love. Even said the words. I’d spilled my guts as she sank down on my lap, naked and wet and too much for my seventeen-year-old body to resist. Crystal and Kit. We were inseparable. I knew I didn’t deserve her. I was a spoiled silver spoon. I had never worked as hard as she had to. She'd been smart, so fucking smart, and I did what I could to keep her safe from the jealous bitches, and away from the jocks that noticed the same things I did. She wasn’t just smart, she’s was gorgeous, all curves and a killer smile.
I was the worst of them all. One quick smile, one hot kiss, and I would do anything she said, including study. And so perhaps she'd fucked me into graduating. Got my grades up so I could get my diploma, and listen to her sweet valedictorian speech. She’d dragged me along in her wake until we were both on our life paths, until she met me one Friday night with the news she'd gotten the scholarship to Stanford, that she was going to give it up for me.
It was then, I knew. I was no good for her. I was a dead end. I wasn't going to college. Hell, my parents had been threatening to cut me off if I went ahead with my plan to make a career in music. And I didn't mean the fucking symphony.
No, Crystal was going places. But not with me. So, I'd cut her loose the only way I knew how. I made sure news spread that I'd fucked Lindsay Mack, that while I took Crystal's virginity, I hadn't given her my heart.
I didn’t touch Lindsay. But Crystal didn’t know that.
My cell rang, bringing me back from the past. I pulled it from my pocket as I weaved around a woman pushing a stroller.
“What?” I barked into the phone.
“The sound check's set for four.” Tia Monroe was a good band manager, but she could be a pain in the ass.
“Fine. I'll be there. Might be a few minutes late.” I had no idea how long I would need if I was going to see Crystal again.
“Late? Why?”
“I have something to do.” Someone to see.
I heard Tia say something else, but I tuned her out. Ended the call. Thought of Crystal. Tia and the band could wait. I'd devoted the past ten years of my life to tour buses and recording studios, they could wait thirty fucking minutes so I could get a glimpse of Crystal again. Knowing we were in the same town brought it all back.
Shit, after ten years it gutted me to remember the look on her face when I'd said what I'd done. What I'd supposedly done. Lindsay Mack had slept her way through our entire class and didn't care if I spread lies. Hell, she'd hated Crystal and was more than happy to strike her down the only way she could.
With tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she'd turned and run away. Ran right out of my life for good. On to Stanford. Graduate school. And then some. She'd hated me, probably still did, but I could deal. She was too damn good for me, always had been. She could hate me and live her dreams.
She'd done just what she'd set out to do. Succeed. Hell, she'd done that. That was why I stopped in front of the three-story chain book store on Fifth Avenue. She was here for a book signing. I'd lost track of her when she left for California, but just six months ago, I’d turned on the television to see her sitting next to the most famous late night talk show host in the city. The novel she'd written a couple of years ago, had hit the New York Times list, big time. Her story sold in a multi-million-dollar deal and the hottest asshole in Hollywood was sitting next to her, playing the spy-thriller hero she’d dreamed up in her head. Fucker touched her shoulder, flirted with her. And she smiled back, but it was a smile I knew. Brittle. Stressed. So beautiful my cock rose to attention as I watched her, those blue eyes, those pink lips. She blinked, and laughed, made all the right motions for the audience, but I knew Crystal. My girl didn’t like to be the center of attention.
And she was still mine. I knew every inch of her body, how she liked to be touched, kissed, fucked. She was famous. Rich. She was no longer from the wrong side of the tracks. Hell, she made her own fucking tracks.
I was so damn proud of her. What were the chances I'd be in town on tour the same time she was here? When I'd seen her face on a huge-ass billboard, I knew I had to go. I had to see her, to see an expression on her face other than the heartbreak I'd caused her. Those sad eyes, the tears, had haunted me for a decade. I couldn’t let her give up Stanford for me, but that didn’t mean watching her walk away hadn’t ripped my fucking heart out.
The store was huge. Three floors. It was packed with fans wanting a book signed by Crystal. To hear her give a talk about her characters, how she came up with the incredible plot. These people might have read her work, loved it, but I was her biggest fan. Hers. Not her story. Hell, they hadn't walked away from her to save her.
The ground floor was too crowded to get anywhere near her. Hell, I barely made it through the revolving door. The line was long and it snaked and curved. Spotting a stairwell that went to the second floor, I aimed for the balcony where I could look down and get a glimpse of her. I knew from the press photos she still wore her glasses. Still had the blond hair, the gorgeous blue eyes. She'd gotten older, grown from a girl to a woman. Wore make up. Heels, fancy clothes. No prep school uniform or cherry lip gloss.
Settling in, I leaned against the railing to look down. There she was. Fuck, my heart skipped a beat just seeing her again. The first time in ten years. The pictures didn't do her justice. While they showed only the confident woman that wrote that killer book, it hid her personality. The introvert who smiled because she had to. The quiet personality that liked a night in with a movie much better than one surrounded by hundreds of rabid fans.
I saw the tenseness in her shoulders even as she smiled and chatted with fans, signing her autograph over and over again. The sleek hair, the pretty blue dress, the fancy heels. It was all frosting. God, I wanted to strip her bare, to reveal the real Crystal. To find her again, to make her mine once more.
And when she turned to talk with a woman who stood behind the table next to her, perky and bubbly with her red hair and equally red dress, she somehow glanced up. Saw me. As if she knew I was here.
Her eyes widened. Her smile slipped. The pen slipped from her fingers. Those blue fucking eyes held mine and I knew. Like a fucking sucker punch to the gut, she was going to be mine again. I'd walked away once. Ten years ago, I’d had nothing to offer her. I’d let her go.
I couldn’t do it again.
Rock Me by Jessa James
Now Available!
Books by Jessa James
Bad Boy Billionaire Series
Lip Service
Rock Me
Lumber Jacked
Baby Daddy
The Virgin Pact Series
The Teacher and the Virgin
His Virgin Nanny
Bad Boys with Big Sticks Series
Fake Fiancé
/> About The Author
Jessa James grew up on the East Coast but always suffered a severe case of wanderlust. She’s lived in six states, had a variety of jobs and always comes back to her first true love – writing. Jessa works full time as a writer, eats too much dark chocolate, has an iced-coffee and Cheetos addiction, and can’t get enough of sexy alpha males who know exactly what they want – and aren’t afraid to say it. Dominant, alpha-male insta-luv is her favorite to read (and write).
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