A gesture meant to assist me to my feet.
I pulled her down to me so that she was straddling my lap and I yanked off her baseball cap. I laced my fingers through her curls and claimed her mouth with a hunger, a longing, a need I did not understand.
She didn’t resist. She opened her lips and gave me access to fuck her with my tongue, to taste the remains of the spicy sweet sauce on her breath from dinner. Her hands were traveling up my shirt as she deepened the kiss.
She was as hungry for me as I was for her.
For now, I didn't take things any further. We sat on the lighthouse floor, kissing like it was going to be our last kiss. I wanted her, but not here, not on the cold lighthouse floor. I wanted to fuck her senseless.
Then I wanted to make love to her.
She barely let me go long enough to take a breath. She was giving and taking willingly, but there was a hint of apprehension. I pulled away to take a breath, to take a look at the desire in her crystal blue eyes.
I saw something, I recognized something. My chest tightened and I gently kissed her swollen lips. My tongue traveled down her neck and back to her mouth. Something nagged at me. Clawed at my brain, a feeling I recognized. I’d kissed these lips before, I’d stared into these crystal blue eyes before.
Why hadn’t she told me we'd been together? It was more than that. I would not have forgotten those eyes, those lips. They beckoned me. They gave me a sense of pleasure, a sense of being home.
Then it hit me.
“Angel.” It slipped off my lips before I could stop it.
She pulled away; she thought I remembered. What was it that she thought I knew? She got up and picked up her camera. It left me confused. She was going to leave me here in limbo wondering what the hell just happened?
What memory did I trigger and why couldn’t I bring it to the forefront? She had the answer to questions only my eyes had asked.
She got to the top of the stairs and turned around and smiled.
“Do you want to talk, or do you want to fuck?”
Chapter 4
Angelic
My reflexes kicked into high gear. The next thing I realized was that I had him pinned to the floor of the lighthouse. One wrong move and I could shatter his wrist. My knee was pressed into his chest. I had no idea how he was able to breathe.
How did I explain this without going into too much detail?
I was in a romantic lighthouse staring at the sunset with the world's most notorious womanizer and instead of reacting like the kind of woman he was used to, I reacted like the soldier I was trained to be.
He should be furious at my response at his attempts at flirting, but he wasn’t. He looked aroused, actually. From the bulge in his well-fitting trousers, I would say, he was very aroused.
Did Mr. Naile enjoy being dominated by a woman? Had anyone ever tried before now? It wasn't like I was looking to take control of the situation, it just happened. His sultry lips curled into a slight smile, his piercing blue eyes silently laughing at me.
I should have been upset with what he did, but I wasn’t. His reaction to my reaction of him was affecting my common sense. I released his wrist calmly so he didn’t attempt to jerk it away, causing more harm. Then I slowly removed my knee.
I offered my hand to help him to his feet.
Instead, he pulled me down onto his lap, his cock pressing against my ass. He pulled off my baseball cap and ran his fingers through my hair and claimed my mouth in one swift stealth motion.
I let him.
I didn't just let him, I encouraged him. I opened my lips and let him plunder and steal what he wanted from me. I wanted the same. I let my hand wander up his shirt. I was right, his abs were rock hard under my hands and my melting core spilled over into my underwear.
I wanted to strip him bare and ride him like no woman had ever done to him before. I wanted to dominate him. I wanted to be on top. I wanted to come out on top.
I barely gave him time to breathe. If he began to remember, I may never get what I wanted from him. What I had wanted from him since that day in the park all those years ago.
I felt his body clenching. It was subtle, but it was there. He was beginning to remember. How could he not? The electricity between us could light up the entire island. The intensity of his kisses subsided.
He was gentler, loving. He looked into my eyes as I stared into his. I was looking for some sort of clue as to what he was thinking, what he was remembering.
“Angel.” The name fell from his lips like it did those many years ago.
I needed him to want me more than he wanted the answer to why he called me Angel. He was Jackson Naile. I knew the one thing I could offer him that would make him forget he wanted an answer for the question in his eyes.
At least for a short while.
I pulled away and reached for my gear and headed to the stairs. He was still sitting on the floor waiting for an answer to a question he had not asked. He would ask, eventually. I turned around to find him confused by what I was doing. I gave him a coy smile.
“Do you want to talk, or do you want to fuck?”
I heard him lift himself from the floor. He was faster than I could ever be. His long legs would catch up to me before I could get to the bottom. I had excellent balance, and propped my butt on the thin railing and slid to the bottom before he could catch up with me.
I made it to the door before I felt his strong arms lift me and hold me to his chest. He raises my chin to meet his eyes. “What if I want to talk?”
“What if I don’t?” I kept him focused on the heat rising between us. I kissed him feverishly.
“I guess one of us isn’t going to get what they want.” His eyes were full of lust, desire and fire.
I didn’t give in, didn’t waiver, while keeping him occupied with my lips.
“Like I always say,” he growled, “ladies first.”
He picked me up and carried me to the inn. He set me down in the entry as he kicked off his muddy shoes. I followed suit and threw mine to the side. I barely had time to think and he was carrying me up the stairs and to the last bedroom on the left.
His bedroom.
We tore at each other’s clothes, hardly able to wait to get each other naked. My sweats peeled away, revealing a sports bra and boy shorts. Not the sexy underwear I was sure he was used to. I should have blushed, but that wasn’t who I was. I did not plan for this tonight. I planed for it Saturday night, after the wedding.
That was when the singles did the traditional after wedding hookups. I planned on wearing a sexy black lace bustier and matching thong under a low cut sexy blue dress I bought for the occasion. I bought them the minute I knew that the PR firm representing the opening was one that belong to none other than Mr. Jackson Naile.
Too late for regrets now. I was finally getting nailed by Jackson Naile. Who cared if my one night stand was now or later? I was getting what I came for, beside the nice payout for being the exclusive wedding photographer to the wedding of the century once the world read about it in the papers.
My need for him was so great I didn’t care about foreplay. I was impatient and I knew he sensed it. If I didn't slow down, he was going to want to stop and make me explain. I couldn't have that, not when I was so close to getting what I had fantasized about for far too long.
His body was a fucking shrine and I wanted to worship it. I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of it. To trace and memorize every line of his tattooed chest, shoulder and arms. Did they ran all way to his back.
I yearned for his tight muscular arms cradle me. I wanted to wrap my legs around his lean torso and push his massive cock to my center.
I knew I was beyond wet; I was downright drenched. I could take him in easily. He stood above me and scanned my body, the same way I did to his. He was smiling, he liked what he saw.
I had been told I had too many muscles for a woman, that I lack the femininity of the weak females who let men do all the work.
I planned on contributing to this encounter in all the ways he planned to.
No words had been spoken since we left the lighthouse. Our mouths had not been off each other long enough for any. There had been sounds—loud panting, moaning, grunting—but no words.
He ran his tongue down my neck, past my cleavage, across my belly button and then with his strong soft hands, he gently opened my legs. I let them fall to the side and propped myself up on my elbows. I wanted to see his face while he fucked me with his tongue. I wanted him to see mine. To see the pleasure he was giving me with his masterful mouth.
He raised his head to look me directly in the eye. “Like I said, ladies first.”
His thumb began circling my clit and I clutched onto the comforter and whimpered. I was not going to be bashful about what he was doing to me. We were the only two people on this side of the island and I could scream as loud as I pleased.
“I heard the trick to a great orgasm is to trace the alphabet with my tongue over your clit and spell your name until you come and scream mine. I want you to scream my name, Angel.”
I didn’t know where he learned to do that thing with the alphabet, but he was right. I screamed his name. I screamed to God. I screamed to heaven and hell when he took me over the edge with an orgasm that I could only describe as colossal.
I wanted to see the expression on his face when I went over. I wasn’t expecting the total loss of control of my body. It took several minutes for the fireworks to disintegrate behind my closed lids. They fluttered opened to see him propped above me, watching, waiting for me to return.
That was not my first orgasm, or so I had been led to believe. If this was any indication of what I have been missing, why did I wait so long? I should have gone to him sooner. Let him fulfill this yearning, this need that I had tried to let others take care of. If I’d had a true orgasm before, then I knew, I would never have one as surreal as this with anyone else except him ever again.
With a sheepish grin that made the rest of my body turn to jelly, he leaned in and rasped in my ear, “Did you like that, Angel?”
He called me Angel. Was he being cute, using a shorter version of my name, or had he remembered and was toying with me?
Was this all I was going to get from Mr. Jackson Naile?
Chapter 5
Jackson
She was feasting on my body. I didn't mind. She didn’t blush when I undressed her, but I thought she hoped she would have been wearing sexy lingerie for me. Again, this confirmed she had not planned on being left alone with Jackson Naile.
Her crop top and boy shorts look sexy on her perfectly toned body. She was more athletically build than the waifs who starved themselves to fit into a size zero.
What the hell was size zero, anyway? It was like telling women they were nothing. I was going to enjoy having some curves under me.
I push the nagging in my brain to the back of my mind. The one that was telling me I should have made her sit and talk before this. I couldn’t, I was too far bewitched, and needed to focus on the now.
Her muscular physic was no doubt the reason she was able to get me pinned down. It was also the element of surprise. I was much bigger than her and if I had any idea of what prompted her to do what she did in the lighthouse, I wouldn’t have let her get the jump on me.
Then again, maybe I would have. Now it was my turn to pin her down. To take back the control I lost at the lighthouse.
No words were spoken, just mouth to mouth contact on every inch of our bodies. She tasted fucking incredible and I couldn't get enough of her. I wanted more. I slowly traced my tongue down her neck, past the cleavage of her perfect breasts, something I would need to give more attention to later on. I glided along her abs and beyond her navel.
I rested myself between her legs. They parted with ease as she gave me complete access. She raised herself onto her elbows. She was brazen, watching me, letting me watch her as I made love to her delicate pink pussy.
“Like I said, ladies first.” I knew I could make her come for me when I wanted. It was only the two of us on this side of the island. I could take her all night and make her scream and come as many times as I wanted with no interruption, no hindrance.
“I’ve heard the trick to a great orgasm is to trace the alphabet with my tongue over your clit and spell your name until you come and scream mine. I want you to scream my name, Angel.”
I had all night but my cock was not getting the message. It wanted what it wanted and it wanted to be inside her tight pink pussy right now. She was wet and warm and welcoming. I felt her walls spasm as her head fell back and her eyes closed. She screamed my name and her juices coated my mouth and tongue.
I raised myself and hovered above her and waited for her to come down. God, she was fucking beautiful. The look of ecstasy on her flushed cheeks. The fluttering of her crystal blue eyes. “Did you like that, Angel?”
I attacked her mouth before I set myself between her legs. My hand reached below and I plunged my fingers into her. She spasmed around my fingers as I thrust them in and out, keeping her open and wet. I reached for the nightstand and masterfully rolled the condom onto my cock before I could take my Angel to the next level.
From her enthusiastic scream, I wondered if she had ever had an orgasm before. If this was her first, she might not recover from what I was about to do to her sanity. I practically released my load watching her come. The look on her face when I took her over—that look was still lingering in her hungry eyes.
I wanted to make love to her, but first I wanted to fuck her. First for her pleasure, then for mine. I wanted release from the nagging tightness in my chest. I knew once I made that connection between us, it would all make sense.
My brain didn’t understand why she was already embedded so deep under my skin I would suffocate if I didn't take her.
I teased the entrance to her pussy with my cock. Instinctively her hips raised, coming off the mattress to make contact. Her hands clawed at me with the same carnal rush coursing through my veins.
The shallowness of her breath was an indication of her arousal. The way she dominated me in the lighthouse told me she was not one to beg. I wanted her to be an equal partner in this, I wanted her contribution to the cause. I wanted her permission.
“What do you want, Angel?” I was smiling down at her, waiting for her answer.
“I want you.”
“Tell me what you want me to do.” I wanted to know if she was with me or my reputation.
“I want you to nail me.”
There it was, what I didn't want to hear. She knew at some point this weekend she could get me to fuck her. She wanted to get nailed by the famous womanizer Jackson Naile.
I was too far gone not to give her what she wanted.
I entered her pussy, pushing myself all the way in on the first thrust. She gasped and I pulled back and hammered into her again. I got my rhythm and she joined me, thrust for thrust, my push to her pull. She bucked her hips and dug her nails into my skin.
I wanted her to feel me, not just my cock fucking her. I wanted her to understand I knew there was more to us than this. There was more to us another time, another place.
She whimpered and whispered my name, “Jackson.” I knew she was with me, I needed to believe she wanted to be with me.
I could feel the electricity between us. The passionate jolt with every thrust. Her walls clamped down on my cock and I knew she was getting ready to come. There was something more going on but I couldn’t get those words out of my head.
I want you to nail me.
Did she say them because she thought that was what I wanted to hear? I should have told her I wanted to make love to her. First I wanted to fuck her brains out to get it out my system, then, I would have made love to her. I wanted her to sleep in my bed tonight so I could take her again in the morning if I wanted. If she wanted.
She told me what she wanted, she wanted me to fuck her brains out. Wasn't that what I also wanted? Maybe once
the initial carnal passion has been satisfied, we could take our time. I haven’t had the opportunity to suck on her ample breasts. To fuck her mouth and watch her face when I come.
I was not done with her yet. The longer I fucked her the more I wanted to stay inside her with her tight pussy sheathing me.
I wished I had asked if she was protected. I always used a condom even when the woman I was with swore there would be no repercussions. I left nothing to chance. I wanted to fuck Angel bareback, to feel her skin on my cock. I had never considered the possibility before. I had never cared enough about the woman in my bed to want her to feel every inch of me. For me to feel every inch of her.
First I needed to take her where she wanted to go. To render her catatonic from her orgasm. To ruin her for any other man. She needed to believe that there would be no choice but to rely only on me to take her to the happiest place on earth. To believe that I was the only one who can bring her back from the edge.
I wasn’t taking her over the edge. I was pushing her off the cliff and she was holding on to me, pulling me over with her. She was not going to let me get away without falling. I knew I was going to crash and burn when I hit the bottom.
I didn't care at this point, I wanted her to burn me. I wanted everything that was going to come with it.
The explosion of white light filled my brain and my head was pounding. I was in tune with her body, with my body. I felt every jerk of my cock as she milked me dry with the spasming of her walls.
I could smell my sex on her. I wanted to carry her to the shower, wash her thoroughly and start all over.
I loved how her eyes glazed over and glistened, making them look like pools of clear crystals. I loved the way her body flushed when she let go.
Her nails had dug into my flesh. She flexed her hands and released me from her grasp. I saw the lust returning to her eyes, her body raising and her breasts brushing against my chest.
Womanizer Heir (The Heirs Book 4) Page 3