JAKE

by Juliette Jones

  He unbuttons my pants and pulls them down my hips, peeling them carefully but aggressively off of me.

  Until I’m completely naked.

  I squirm. I’m so hot, so wet. There’s no room in my mind for shyness. I’m too needy. And Jake doesn’t deny me anything. He eases my legs open, pinning them down as he kneels between them. I open to him willingly and gasp as his lips graze the sensitive upper skin of my thighs. He’s kicking off his own jeans. Oh, God. His tongue licks me. Gently at first. Tender licks along the plump outer lips of my pussy, parting the soft folds. His fingers touch me, easing into the slippery cove. My inner muscles open for him, stretching slightly as he eases his fingers deeper. Jake’s tongue presses against my clit. Then his mouth closes over the tiny bud and he sucks strongly in teasing pulls as his fingers slide in and out to the succulent rhythm. My hips writhe. I can feel the fluttery, teasing waves beginning deep inside my body.

  Jake’s mouth kisses a line up my stomach, to my breasts and to my lips as he eases himself onto me. He touches the head of his huge shaft to my slick pussy, silky and parted from the play of his mouth and his fingers. He swirls the broad end of his cock, which seeps with moisture, against my clit. The pleasure is astounding, fringing at the edges of my body and my mind. Jake slides the head of his cock between the folds of my pussy. He feels so big inside me, already. My inner muscles are so tight around him, stretching as he eases himself a fraction deeper. The fullness is almost uncomfortable. How will he fit? My body feels insanely tight and tense.

  Jake’s smiling down at me, holding himself still. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’m going to make you come now. Are you ready?” The low, graveled husk of his voice touches on the pleasure, somehow, bringing me even closer to the orgasm that’s building deep inside me. He slides his cock out, pressing it once again against my clit. Then he burrows his huge, engorged cock back inside my pussy, deeper this time, until I cry out. There’s pain, but it’s steeped in the deepest, most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.

  “I want to kiss you,” he murmurs. “I want to taste you as I slide my big cock deep inside you. As I give you all the pleasure you can handle. Do you want me?”

  It’s beyond my capabilities to answer him at this point. All I can think about is the tidal wave of pleasure that’s right there, so close, like a dam about to burst. His cock is so hot, feeding his warmth into my body. His mouth finds my nipple and tugs, spreading the heat until the warmth is connected. Until my body is flooded with sweet heat. “I’ve found heaven on earth and it’s you, baby. It’s you.” His mouth finds my mouth and his tongue thrusts inside me as his fingers squeeze my clit and his cock pushes deeper. The tight, slippery friction is too much. The overload of sensation is too forceful. The pleasure spills over in voluptuous, clenching bursts. My juicy pussy grips his thick cock, pulling him in as he pushes himself deeper and deeper inside me, until I’m fully impaled. His fingers, his tongue and his cock work a slow, driving rhythm in tune with the milking squeezes of my pussy around him. Jake groans like his heart’s being pulled out of his chest and I feel it then: the warm, thick jets of his cum deep inside my body, filling me up, answering all my deepest desires, making all my dreams feel real and true and so, so beautiful.

  I hold Sugar as though my life depends on it, making sure not to crush her or hurt her. I stay deep inside her, unwilling to retreat. I’m so careful and so gentle, so ragged with lust and love that she laughs and kisses me. We can’t get enough.

  I kiss her, eating at her mouth. “I don’t want to sleep,” I murmur, curling my finger through a coil of her hair. I don’t bother saying that this could be our last night together for a while. That tomorrow night I might be locked up behind bars for God knows how long. But tonight is ours and I’m going to savor every charmed second of it.

  The tight, sweet clench of her pussy is impossible to resist. My cock is fully hard again inside the snug, saturated haven of her pussy. I can’t seem to deflate, not with this divine little nymph squirming under me, clutching me with her delicate hands. She rocks against me and I meet the sway of her body with a slow, deep thrust. I don’t withdraw but I thrust again. And again. Forcing her pleasure higher. Stroking taut, quivering sensation. She’s on another brink so I thrust deep as I push my tongue into her mouth. She moans and her pussy clamps tight around me as she sucks on my tongue. My shaft jerks in sudden, violent spasms inside her, spilling my cum in hot, raging gushes. Some sort of primal greed has taken hold of me. I want to fill her with my seed, over and over. I come so hard it feels like a kind of death. The death of everything that happened before now. This is all that matters to me. This is where I belong, here, with her. Inside her. Nothing has ever been this beautiful.

  The night is dream-like. Time is irrelevant, every second awash with perfection. She must be sore. Slowly, gently, I pull out, but I don’t let go of her. I kiss every inch of her skin. I suck her nipples and run my tongue over the concave planes of her stomach. Her thighs are marked with blood and cum. I kiss her pussy. I carefully lift her into my arms and carry her to the Jacuzzi in my bathroom and turn on the jets. Then I bring her champagne and caviar and strawberries.

  I climb into the hot tub and hold her, wrapping my arms and legs around her as she rests her head against my chest. As she gazes out the window at the five million dollar view, I feed her. I give her a sip of champagne and she feathers her fingers across my skin, carefully touching my scars. I don’t flinch. The pain has faded. Closer to the surface now are the memories of her touch and her kisses.

  I take another drink of champagne and I hold the glass to her lips. She drinks then she takes the glass from my hand and sets it aside. She turns and climbs up my body, straddling me. Her breasts are ridiculously perfect. Creamy and full with rosy little nipples that harden at my touch. I guide her breasts to my mouth and suck on her nipples. She tastes better than the champagne.

  She lowers herself onto my lap so my hard cock is cradled between the petals of her soft pussy. She smoothes back an unruly strand of my wet hair. There’s something so connective about they way she looks at me, like she’s staring straight into the depths of who I am.

  “I hardly know you, Jake Wolfe.” My heartbeat slows as though waiting for it. I know what she might be about to say and I need her to say it. I want her. I want to wrap myself around her and get inside her, in every way it’s possible to do. Her voice is soft and lightly husked as she the whispers the words. “I love you.”

  She raises herself up and guides the head of my cock between the lips of her pussy. I watch her eyes, entranced by everything about her. She feels so good I’m already leaking cum. It’s so easy for her to drive me to the brink.

  “I love you more,” I tell her. I know it’s true. Nothing can be bigger than this savage wildfire of emotion that’s raging in my heart.

  My hands grip her hips and pull her lower, until my cock presses just inside the sweet nirvana of her tight pussy. She wriggles and bounces, taking more of me. We both gasp as the head of my shaft pushes further into the wet, smoldering heat of her body. She winces as she takes me deeper.

  My hands grip her hips and I hold her still. “You’re sore. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re not hurting me, Jake. You feel so good inside me. I’m making up for some lost time. And I can’t get enough of you.” She leans forward so my shaft slides deep. We both groan. She pushes her tongue into my mouth as she moves her divine little body, adjusting, taking all of me. I use both my hands, playing her clit, sucking on her tongue as she rides me. She whimpers as I thrust deeper, lifting her with each drive. The warm water’s splashing around us. Our bodies are slippery with soap and sweat and lust. I pleasure her in every way I know how. We’re struggling to get closer, higher, until there’s no more friction, just the throbbing, clamping bond of our shared ecstasy. We cling to each other, panting as our bodies lock in a secret rhythm. Time disappears. Nothing matters except us. Nothing exists except this fiery beauty.
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br />   The waves calm and I hold her quivering body against mine. I kiss her hair. “I can’t believe I finally found you, sweet girl. Now that you’re mine, I’m never letting you go,” I whisper, awed, hoping my words and my essence filter into her being. Hoping I can imprint her body and soul with my wild passion and my vast, total devotion.

  I wake in the night with my beast of a cock wedged between her legs. My body is spooned around her. In my sleep, I’ve enveloped her body with mine. She’s so much smaller than I am, so soft and sexy and beautiful. My cock is a throbbing, steel-hard animal of need. My lust has never been so furious. I kiss her neck and she coos, half-asleep, half-lust-drowsed. He legs reflexively open a little. Her back arches and her sweet ass cradles my stiff cock. Her pussy’s wet.

  I need her.

  I adjust her body as I want it, as gently as I’m capable of, easing her onto her stomach as I bite and lick my way down her back, lifting her hips and spreading her knees. My tongue burrows into the tiny pucker of her ass and she squirms but I don’t care. I hold her down and lick her everywhere I want, thrusting my tongue into her candy pussy. My fingers play and squeeze and rub her clit as I fuck her with my greedy tongue. She’s moaning my name and her pussy starts to tighten, so I climb up her body, pushing her head down and keeping her hips high. I press my engorged, leaking cock to her slippery entrance. “I need you so much, baby. Will you take me like this?” I growl darkly, wondering if I’ll be able to stop myself if she refuses.

  “Yes,” she breathes and I slide my thick, spilling cock deep into all that tight, eager wetness. I’m almost coming already. I’m fighting to hold on.

  When she cries out I start to lose it. I’m pushing her too hard. I keep myself still, letting her body adjust to my big, forceful invasion. I need to be careful with her. My addiction is a monster that wants to go harder and deeper, to fill her up with my hot cum. I go slow, twisting her hair around my fist as I thrust in and out of her, stroking her squeezing pussy with my pulsing cock. She arches back against me and I give her more. I give her everything she can take. She moans and starts coming hard. Her inner muscles clamp tightly around me, massaging my length in firm tugs until I lose all control. My release rages out of me in throbbing jets, flooding her with my thick cum until it’s spilling and dripping down her thighs.

  She’s limp with sated pleasure and I wrap her in my body, spooning her, fucking her and adoring her, keeping my still-hard cock deep inside all that sweet, juicy perfection. My hands grip her and touch her possessively. I play her nipples and her clit, memorizing every perfect curve and groove, until she’s coming again. I taste her skin and drink in her scent, of peaches and moonlight and sex. I want to do this all night, forever. I want to live like this, coming inside her, kissing her and holding her close to my beating, breaking heart.

  Wow.

  The next day, Jake comes to work with me. All my muscles are sore, aching in a way that makes me feel more alive than I ever have. I feel like I’ve been ridden hard in the most delicious possible way. I’m reminded of all the things Jake did to me. A flock of tiny butterflies flutter in my stomach whenever I look at him.

  The man has stamina, that’s for damn sure. I don’t know how many times we reached for each other in the night. I guess my body had some catching up to do. Maybe his did, too. Once we started, we just couldn’t seem to stop. My lover is some sort of sensual genius. A magician and a work of art, all rolled into one. An untamed pleasure-god.

  I can’t stop smiling and blushing. I finally know what it feels like to enjoy the simple pleasure of being thoroughly made love to by the man of your dreams.

  I blush again when he kisses me at the door of the bakery, remembering what those lips and that tongue are capable of. He looks so handsome, with his dark eyes knowing and his playful smile. But it’s time to get back to work so I do my best to concentrate.

  Jake works in his corner booth of the restaurant as I go over to the bakery where I’ve set up a table to interview the five people he’s flown in from all over the world. Every single one of them is fabulous and I offer all five of them jobs on the spot. When I tell the first one, Henri, who’s from Paris, that the pay won’t be huge to start with but will probably improve fairly quickly, he looks confused. “I ‘ave already been paid my first three monthz’ salaree,” he says. His accent is so heavy at first I wonder if I’ve heard him correctly.

  “By who?”

  Henri turns and points across the street, to where Jake is sitting in the window, talking on his phone. “By heem. He double ze salaree I waz getting in Franz. And he offers me first class airfares and my first three monthz’ rent in New York.”

  “No kidding.” Damn him!

  “When do I start?” asks Henri.

  We agree that Henri will start first thing tomorrow. After he leaves I make a few phone calls to start ordering the baking supplies. Miraculously, the place was spotlessly clean by the time I arrived this morning (I’m still not sure how Jake arranges these things so quickly), so the only thing left to do is start stocking up on the supplies we need to get started.

  I look up when I hear a knock on the door. A woman enters. She has dark hair tied back in a chignon that’s been so heavily hairsprayed it gleams. She looks vaguely familiar but I can’t figure out where I’ve seen her before. “I’m sorry, we’re not quite open yet. Probably by Wednesday.”

  “I want to order some pies,” she says.

  “Oh. Sure.”

  I find my bag and as I’m reaching for my iPad so I can key in the order, I see Jake walking across the street.

  His expression is livid, his eyes dark. He looks big and dangerous and every inch the badboy, with his ink, his criminal cuff and his fists clenched, so his pumped-up muscles strain against his tight t- shirt. I have no idea what could have set him off but I’m almost afraid of the way he looks, with that brutal fury radiating off him in waves.

  He storms in. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls at the woman. His voice is so low and menacing, I almost don’t recognize it.

  I’m shocked by how he’s acting. “Jake. Why are you –”

  “Get out,” he seethes at her. He almost seems on the brink of something: of cold, severe violence.

  “I’m ordering some pies, Jake,” says the woman pleasantly. “There’s no law against that, is there?”

  That’s when it clicks. It’s the woman from the video. It’s the woman who’s framing Jake. Camille, he said her name was.

  “I said get out,” Jake fumes.

  “I saw a write-up of the restaurant and the cute little chef from Georgia,” says the woman. “I wanted to try the pie for myself to see if it’s as good everybody’s been saying. And what a coincidence to see you here, too, Jake. I can thank you in person for meeting with me alone in my private room at the Plaza yesterday evening.”

  Jake stares at her. If looks could kill, her time would be up right about … now.

  And then he looks at me, almost searchingly. I’m not sure how to feel about this. He didn’t lie to me. But he did keep that detail of his meeting decidedly quiet. He’d been in a terrible mood afterwards, when he came to me, until I’d managed to break through and soften his defenses. Was it because he’d done something he was ashamed of and/or blackmailed into? It breaks my heart a little to think about it. I try to push the question out of my mind, but it insists. Did he have sex with her? Right before he came to me? Suddenly all the exquisite beauty of our night together vanishes into thin air. Maybe he isn’t as reformed as the online articles said he was. Maybe he just flies under the radar. In secret meetings at the Plaza and behind his own closed doors.

  I don’t want to doubt him. But why wouldn’t he have told me?

  “I’ll take two apple pies, please. The name is Camille Ames. And I’d like them delivered to Firebrand Incorporated, on Lexington, on Thursday afternoon. Or sooner if you can.”

  “Um. Sure,” I manage to reply.

  She opens the door. “Oh, and Jake?
I enjoyed our meeting so much I’ve scheduled another one for tomorrow night. See you then.” She breezes out the door. The clacking sound of her spiky heels on the pavement can be heard as she walks away.

  I glance at Jake. The shadowed aura that leaves him when we’re alone together has returned in full force. Out here in the big bad world, Jake can’t seem to escape the black clouds. And here I was thinking that the world was being hard on him. But maybe I’ve got it wrong. Maybe Jake creates his own black clouds. By sleeping around and not bothering to tell people about it.

  I don’t exactly mean to but my glance has turned cold and hard.

  He reaches for my hand but I don’t want to touch him. What if those hands have touched – no. I can’t even think about it. I take a step back.

  He stares at me, incredulous. “Sugar. You can’t believe –”

  “Believe what? So you didn’t meet with her in her private suite at the Plaza? Alone?”

  “Yes. I did. But nothing happened.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about it?” I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up. I hadn’t asked him to be faithful to me. We’ve only been together for … a few days, which seems crazy. It had been such an intense few days. Such a crazily connective few days. Then, apparently, the second he walks out the door, he jumps straight into bed with the first gorgeous stalker who happens to cross his path.

  “Because it wasn’t important.” That cool goddamn arrogance again. The bruised aggression. The absurdly rugged masculinity of his beauty. Why had I ever thought that he could be mine and mine alone? Maybe the normal laws of monogamy and stability don’t apply to people like Jake Wolfe. Maybe he’s too beautiful to occupy our lowly realms of commitment and love.