by J. C. Hayden
By the time Jack gave me my fourth orgasm of the night, I was completely exhausted, sore, and satiated, but it wasn’t enough for Jack. He’d slid down my body and ate at me mercilessly for what felt like forever—increasing and decreasing the pressure to constantly keep me on edge—until I came with a scream that might have been heard all over Cambridge. I hadn’t been able to stop shaking after that. Jack had held me in his arms and whispered soothing words in my ear, but I was a quivering, over-stimulated mess and it took me a long time to come down from the high.
I knew what he was doing. I knew because it was the same thing I was doing by offering myself to him as much as I could that night. He was staking a claim, but not for anyone else to see or recognize other than me. He wasn’t claiming me in front of the world as a reminder to other men to stay away. He was claiming me for me, reminding me that he was the only person who had ever given me a pleasure as powerful as only he was able. He was telling me, without words, how much he could give to me, how good we could be together.
I didn’t need reminding of that. If there was one thing I was certain of it was that no one before or since him had ever made me feel the way Jack Harding was capable of making me feel. We were perfect together, and what I was trying to accept was that it wasn’t just a sexual perfection. Sure, there was the sexual part, that even six years later it was like we knew on instinct exactly what the other wanted, how to push each button to bring the maximum amount of pleasure. But Jack could read me like a book, in and out of his bed. He knew when to push and when to retreat, he knew my moods and what made me happy or angry or sad or excited. When we were just us, there was a mutual understanding and a connection and a respect that made me care so deeply for him and what we shared together. That was important and necessary, but, my god, in his bed he could play me like the ivory keys of a piano, and I wanted him to know that I could do the same to him.
When the shower started running, I slid out of the bed and didn’t bother to put any clothes on. I glanced briefly around Jack’s bedroom that looked like a tornado had come through. Our clothes were thrown around the room, and I almost laughed when I saw my Wednesday Addams wig resting on top of Jack’s dresser from when he’d yanked it off my head and sank his fingers into my hair.
I opened the bathroom door and Jack peaked around the shower curtain.
“Sorry,” he said. “Did I wake you?”
I shook my head and basked in his perusal as his eyes raked over my naked body, looking at me like he wanted to devour me. I held the heated look as I walked across the tiles, and I didn’t even wait for an invitation before I climbed in with him.
“Good morning.” My voice was hushed as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he pressed his firm, wet, hot body against mine while he slid his arms around my waist and held me tightly to him.
“Very good.” His voice was hungry as I wriggled just slightly against him, just enough so he could feel my skin, warm and tight and just for him. When he said, “I’m glad you stayed,” I buried my face in his neck so he didn’t have to see how pleased those words made me. Jack had been so vulnerable last night when he’d told me he wouldn’t be mad if I decided to leave. Even if it destroyed him, Jack had always been willing to respect my wishes. Sure, there had been a few times we fought about it, especially toward the end of the seven months we’d been sleeping together at Klein, but even at the end, he almost always told me he was fine with whatever I wanted to do.
I was glad I stayed last night, too. I didn’t know where we would go from here, but last night I’d decided I wouldn’t fight it anymore. I still didn’t think I was interested in having a relationship or anything long term—not least of all because the idea of giving myself and my heart to someone that way again was terrifying—but I wasn’t going to actively resist it anymore. I was just going to let go and enjoy my time with Jack, and whatever happened over our time together, I would try to embrace with an open heart and mind. I was tired of fighting my feelings for him, tired of hurting us both, so I was ready to go along for the ride, ready to be open to whatever naturally progressed between us even if it might kill me. I wasn’t ready to give him up.
Jack ran soapy hands up and down my back, feeling every inch of the skin there, lighting me up with his touches—touches that could drive me wild, that had the ability to turn me on in ways no other man had. When he slid his hands down to cup my ass and lift me upward against him, my lips found his, and I didn’t hesitate before I slipped my tongue into his sexy as sin mouth.
He was hard against my stomach, and when I shifted my hips to rub against him, he groaned into my mouth. After last night, I shouldn’t have been this turned on, I shouldn’t have wanted him this much, and I should’ve been embarrassed by how I threw myself at him, whimpering lustily, already wet with the need to have him buried so deep he might never find his way out.
But there was something I wanted even more than I wanted him inside me, something that I’d been thinking about for six weeks, maybe six years, something I’d missed like hell in the time we’d been apart.
I dropped my arms from around his neck and pushed out of his hold so I could sink easily down to my knees. His eyes widened a bit, and he stared down at me with desire and greed and lust written all over all of his features—his face flushed from his arousal and the heat of the water, his lips slightly parted, chest moving up and down as he watched me. I turned us so that he was under the spray and I could avoid getting water in my eyes. I could’ve stayed there, on my knees, just admiring how fucking hot and sexy he was forever, with the water streaming down his muscles, making his body glisten, showing off all the bulk he’d worked so hard for. But when his cock nudged my chin, I knew I couldn’t just sit there and stare forever no matter how badly I wanted to.
I dropped my eyes from his, and they landed on the hard spike in front of me. Even after all this time, after all the casual hookups I had over the years, Jack still had the most gorgeous cock I’d ever seen. It was long and thick and cut, and the head changed colors depending on his level of arousal, letting me know now by its deep, angry, purple color that he was past the edge of just being turned on. It only turned that color when he was desperate to come, and my god I wanted my mouth to take him there. How either of us could be this desperate—he this hard and me as wet as I was—after all we done last night was just a testament to how much we’d held back our want in the time we’d decided to play at being just friends.
I licked my lips, and Jack groaned as a bead of pre-come burst from the tip, opaque as it slid down. It was about to drop to the shower floor when I leaned forward and flicked my tongue over Jack’s swollen head to catch it.
“Fuck.” Jack panted and slammed his hands against the tiled wall as if he didn’t want to touch me for fear of pushing me too far. I appreciated his thoughtfulness, but I was going to change that very soon. I was going to tease him until he was desperate, and I wasn’t going to give him a choice but to go as rough as he needed.
I rested my hands on his thighs and leaned forward to suck just his thick tip into my mouth. Jack continued to breathe heavily above me, and when I looked at him through my lashes and slid my mouth further down his length, he made a strangled sound, his eyes locked on mine.
He tasted just like I remembered, and affection flooded me at the thought. It was like being away from home for years and coming back to having your favorite meal cooked by your mom—the taste of home and comfort and love and everything perfect in the world. Jack’s cock—his skin, his pre-come—tasted like all of the good things. It tasted like a memory, like something I thought I’d never have again, and those thoughts made me want more of it.
I brought one of my hands to the base as I slid further. Jack choked out my name, and I began to move more, back and forth on his delicious cock, savoring the taste, the heavy feel of it in my mouth as I jacked him while I sucked eagerly.
Losing myself in the moment, I went at him like I couldn’t get enough, getting even wetter at
the incredibly sexy sounds Jack was releasing. I knew he was holding back, and if the sounds were anything to go by, he was almost to the brink. I wanted him there. Right there. I wanted him to take what he wanted, to fuck my mouth like he couldn’t help himself, so I slid my hands up to his hips and shifted my grip to urge him to move. Hesitantly, he started to thrust as I moved my mouth on his length, but when he went a bit too far, I gagged slightly, and he immediately pulled back, apologizing breathlessly.
“It’s okay,” I gasped. I looked up at him. “Take what you want.”
“God, hearing you say that.” He leaned his head against the wall, trying to catch his breath. “You can’t say that to me. Not when I’m this fucking close.”
“I want it,” I said, sliding my fist up and down his length, making him groan. “Fuck my mouth, okay?”
“Talia.” His voice was hoarse and raw. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I said as I leaned forward to lick his head. “You couldn’t.”
And then I leaned forward and took him as far back in my throat as I could, trying to relax that channel so he wouldn’t have to worry about gagging me. He started off slowly at first, still worried about hurting me, but when I started to adjust more so I could take him deeper, he finally let go of some of his control over himself, moving his hips steadily and finally sinking his hands in my hair like I knew he wanted.
“Fuck, Talia,” he moaned. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
I looked up and nodded, going faster, taking him deeper, squeezing the round mounds of his firm ass to encourage him.
“Yeah, you want it?” He groaned when I nodded again. “You want my come?”
I really fucking did.
His thrusts became more erratic and unmeasured as he started moaning a constant stream of curses and incoherent begging and other words that sounded vaguely like my name and “more” and “yes.”
I felt him thicken in my mouth, and I hollowed my cheeks, sucking him hard, breathing heavily through my nose so I could give him everything we both needed.
“I’m gonna come,” he gasped. “Fuck. Touch yourself.”
I immediately obeyed, moving one of hands from his ass down to my clit. His eyes looked down so he could see what I was doing, and they flicked frantically between my mouth and my hand as he got even thicker in my mouth, moaning over and over like he was going to die if he didn’t come soon. I was so turned on I thought I was going to combust. I probably could have come just from sucking him but touching between my wet lips was going to take me there and beyond.
I moaned around his cock, so aroused at the dirty thing we were doing. I’d given blow jobs to men before—I’d given many to Jack while at Klein—but I’d never been this close from it, this desperate and needy to have a man’s come down my throat. But I wanted it. I wanted it more than anything, and as he watched me touch myself I felt myself getting closer, just as turned on by sucking him as I was by his eyes on me and my fingers on my clit.
“Coming,” he said, voice strangled, clutching my head tightly. “Fuck, baby, I’m coming.”
I jacked him through his release as it spilled onto my tongue. It was somehow both sweet and bitter and so uniquely him that I swallowed it down and savored it like it was a decadent treat, moaning as I sped up my fingers, while I continued to suck in every last drop of the fluid, moaning around his still shooting cock.
When I finally pulled off, Jack was leaning heavily against the wall, panting, and staring down at me in wonder.
Then, without another word, he bent and put his arms under mine to yank me up. He pushed me against the shower wall as I panted, eyes on him. He didn’t waste time before he sank one hand in my hair and brought the other between my legs. I tilted my head back as he toyed with me, and I moaned nonstop, so incredibly turned on by what we’d just done that it only took about a minute before my orgasm washed over me so forcefully that my legs shook.
Both of us were panting as I came down, and Jack put his head against the shower tiles as I leaned forward to put my head on his heaving chest.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced,” he finally managed through heavy breaths.
I looked up at him after a moment, lust slicing through me anew when I saw the tender look in his eyes, and I wanted to kiss him badly but worried he wouldn’t want to after what we’d just done. He removed any doubt when he bent and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me heatedly, tongue diving into my mouth to share in our combined flavors.
We made out under the stream of water for a long time until Jack pulled back so he could run a wash cloth all over my body. He cleaned me thoroughly, making my skin heat, making me want him again as he took such good care of me, making me feel cherished as he cleaned every inch of my body. He didn’t take his eyes off me the entire time, and my heart started to race. I felt like we were sharing in a moment that was bigger than just cleaning off in the shower, like he was trying to convey something to me in his gazes, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to see. But I did the same for him as I took my turn cleaning him, savoring his beautiful body, getting my fill with both my eyes and my hands if that was even possible.
We didn’t speak as we got out. I felt suddenly shy as he wrapped me in a towel and gave me one of the soft smiles of his that I loved so much. He pulled the towel tightly around me and then kissed me tenderly, his tongue roving my mouth leisurely, like we had all the time in the world.
He told me he was going to make breakfast and that I was welcome to any of his clothes if I needed them. He showed me where he kept his t-shirts and athletic shorts, but I knew everything would be too big for me, so in a moment of inspiration when he left the room, I grabbed the white button down he’d worn for his Clark Kent costume and slipped it over my shoulders. It was long on me, and I didn’t bother with anything underneath, buttoning it only from about the middle of my torso and down so a significant amount of my cleavage showed. I felt sexy and desirable, and when I brought the collar up to my nose to inhale Jack’s scent, I felt hot all over.
When I walked out of his bedroom, Jack dropped the spatula he’d been holding. I smirked as it clattered to the floor, and his eyes followed me heatedly as I walked further into the kitchen. He kissed me silly when he finally got his hands on me, and then pushed me away, promising to get some food in me before I wasted away.
My stomach growled when he put the eggs, toast, and half a grapefruit in front of me. We chatted throughout breakfast, just enjoying each other’s company and the low, constant undercurrent of sexual tension that thrummed between us.
After breakfast, I was in no rush, and Jack didn’t seem to be in any hurry to see me go. Sunday was always the one day of the week I was off because Gia’s was closed (she was a devout Catholic who did not believe at all in working on holy days and usually spent the entire day at mass) and we never had rehearsal. So, Jack and I snuggled on his couch, watching a Netflix series about a serial killer.
We spent the entire day cycling between eating, watching Netflix, and fucking. He took me against his kitchen counter while he was making lunch and on the couch a couple times, once with me straddling him, another with him on his knees behind me, pounding into me while I begged him for more.
It was incredible to spend the whole day with him with no worries and no pressure. I didn’t let myself think about what might be in store for us or what anything might mean, and I just focused on letting myself enjoy my time with him in all the ways that I could.
Until the buzzer sounded at his door, letting us both know that someone was downstairs.
“Sir,” the doorman said from several floors below when Jack answered the call, sexy and shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips. God, he was mouthwatering.
“Ms. Saltzman is here to see you.”
I saw Jack’s shoulders stiffen as I tried to figure out who that was and why it would cause that reaction. I racked my brain—Saltzman… I didn’t know any Saltzmans, but the wa
y Jack replied tightly let me know it was someone he didn’t want to see.
“Can you let her know that I’m busy and that if she needs to contact me, it can be over the phone.”
There was hesitancy on the other line.
“She’s quite upset, sir.”
“Fuck,” Jack sighed to himself, running a hand down his face. He pressed the button on the intercom again and said, “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Jack didn’t look at me as he strode to his bedroom, and when I walked after him and stood in his doorway, wearing nothing but his t-shirt, his voice was almost a growl as he dug angrily through one of his drawers.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, still not looking at me as he shoved a shirt over his head. “Just stay up here, okay?”
“Is everything all right? Who’s down there?”
Jack finally looked at me, and when he did, his features softened only slightly. He looked off in the distance for a moment, and then back at me, making my heart hammer with nerves. What the fuck was going on?
“It’s Rachel,” he said, sounding exasperated.
My heart thumped painfully. “Rachel?”
He nodded.
“What’s she doing here?”
He shook his head. “I’m honestly not sure, but I’m just going to go down, make sure she’s okay, and then I’ll be right back.”
I looked at the floor for just a moment. I felt anxious and flayed wide open, and I knew Jack probably understood how I might be feeling because he knew how insecure the topic of Rachel made me, no matter how much I hated that fact. I didn’t want to let this affect me—it had only been a few months really. Just a few months ago he had broken their engagement, their almost three-year long relationship and now he was with me. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he might still have to deal with his ex, but I still couldn’t face it. I felt better about the direction Jack and I were heading in, but, fuck, this was hard. It was hard standing here, knowing that I couldn’t possibly compare to this gorgeous woman that he’d had a real relationship with, compared to me, who didn’t even want to call Jack my boyfriend.