by Tracy Wolff
Not that she expected him to be, or even wanted him to be. But when he held her and kissed her, he tasted like forever and things got all mixed up in her head. But she could deal with all that later, she told herself. Right now she wanted nothing more than to rub herself against him and take everything, anything, that he wanted to give her.
Jack chose that moment to nip at her lower lip and as she gasped every thought she had melted into oblivion. She could think later, reason later, right now all she wanted to do was feel.
He nipped at her again and she parted her lips for him, let him slide his tongue deep inside her. He stroked his tongue against hers, circled hers, before beginning a series of slow in and out movements that made her crazy. She moved to meet him, thrust for thrust.
When she returned his motions, he groaned, low and deep. Delight streamed through her at this proof that he really was as affected by her as she was by him. That this smart, selfless, sexy man really wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Thrusting her tongue into his mouth, she toyed with him. Slipped and slid against him with glancing touches. Played with him. Teased him. Tormented him as she pulled the flavor of him deep inside her.
He broke away with a groan, rolling onto his back. His chest rose and fell rapidly while his hands fisted the sheets.
She knew he was struggling for control, but she had no intention of letting him regain it. She wanted to make him crazy, wanted to bring him the same insane pleasure that he brought her.
“Careful,” he said as she lowered her mouth to his beautiful chest and began licking over the slick muscles there. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose it like some fifteen-year-old kid with his first girl if you keep that up.”
She grinned, liking the sound of that. “That’s more than okay with me.”
“Yeah, well, not for me. I’m trying to take this slow, but when you look at me like that all I can think about is getting inside that hot little body of yours and taking you until you scream from the pleasure.”
Her whole body burned at his words, her nipples tightening so fast that they actually hurt. “I don’t think I’m a screamer. Or at least, I never have been before.”
He rolled over so that she was buried beneath his rock-hard body, though he kept most of his weight balanced on his elbows. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”
Lowering his head, Jack took her mouth in what he intended to be a sweet, gentle kiss.
A slow, controlled kiss.
A kiss that would slowly stoke the fire between them until Sophie forgot everything but him, everything but the fire they built together.
Or at least, that’s what he intended. But the second her arms locked around his neck, he was once again lost in her. The pleasure wrapped around him, took him over, the taste and scent and silken feel of her taking him right up to the brink of his control all over again. He couldn’t move without wanting her, couldn’t breathe without needing to be all the way inside her. He was on fire and the only way to survive was to plunge himself inside her until they burned with a single flame.
He was shaking by the time he lifted his lips from hers to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses across her cheek to the sensitive skin behind her ear. He dallied there for a moment, teasing her, just for the pleasure of hearing her gasp and moan. And then he was moving on, down the long, slender column of her neck and the sweet curve of her shoulder.
He nipped and kissed, licked and sucked his way down her arm. Paused at her wrist and flicked his tongue back and forth over her rapid pulse before moving on to her mound of Venus, the strong fleshy pad at the base of her thumb. It was one of his favorite parts of a woman and he spent a couple minutes kissing it before sinking his teeth into it in one quick bite.
She cried out, jerked against him, while her free hand clutched at his hair. Loving the feel of her long, slender fingers scraping against his scalp, he laved the small hurt he had inflicted with his tongue until he was sure that the sting had dissipated. Then he pressed a kiss right to the center of her palm, savoring her soft, supple skin and the sweet lilac scent of her.
She moaned a little, so he lingered, gently licking the spot he’d kissed until she cried his name on a broken breath. God, he loved the way that sounded. Loved knowing that he was bringing her pleasure and, in some heretofore unexplored caveman part of him, loved knowing that it had been a long, long time since another man had heard her make those sounds.
Reaching up, he pulled her hand from his hair and started all over again on the left side.
* * *
SHE WAS LOSING her mind. There was no other explanation for the fact that she felt hot yet cold, fragile yet strong, drained yet so filled with electricity that she figured she could power half of Atlanta for a week. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel as Jack took her apart one slow kiss at a time.
She’d never known anyone could be so patient, never knew anyone could be so thorough. Jeff had been a good lover, considerate and kind, but he’d never taken this kind of time with her. Never brought her right to the brink of orgasm again and again and again without ever letting her go over.
It was like Jack had all day, like the huge, hot erection she felt against her leg didn’t matter to him. Like she was the only thing that mattered. She couldn’t imagine what he found so fascinating about her responses, but she wouldn’t trade this pleasure for the world.
As he licked his way over the bend of her arm, pausing to nibble at her elbow, she wondered if there was any part of her body he didn’t plan to kiss or lick or caress. Or if he was going to spend all afternoon driving her to the brink of insanity and then beyond.
She wanted to touch him, wanted to explore the hard, male body she had been admiring since the first time she laid eyes on him. Wanted to run her hands over the strong muscles of his back, to cup the fabulous behind that had worked its way into her fantasies more than once in the past few weeks.
Finally, finally, he finished with her arms. As soon as he let her go, she wrapped herself around him and pulled him down to her, so that she could explore the taste of him, as well. But he was having none of it. She’d only gotten one quick taste of him—a long swipe of his collarbone—before he was pushing himself off of her. “None of that, sweetheart,” he said with a rakish grin that shot heat straight to her sex.
“But I want to touch you, too.”
“You have. You are.” He softened the rejection with the brush of his lips over hers. “I’m too close to losing control.”
“It doesn’t feel like you’re too close. You’re torturing me.”
“I’m making love to you, Sophie. That’s not even close to torture.”
“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, a little shocked at how whiny and out-of-sorts she sounded. But damn it, she was beginning to think he was never going to make love to her. That first time, in the entryway, seemed like a hundred years away and her body was achy, needy, desperate to feel him inside her again. “I’m going to explode at any second.”
He grinned. “And I’ve barely gotten started.”
“You can’t mean that. I’m going to die if you leave me like this.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know CPR.” He shifted so that his mouth was on the same level as her abdomen.
“Funny.” She had more to say to him, but then he circled her navel with his tongue and she forgot how to speak. His hands came up, cupped her breasts, moved in the same gentle circles as his tongue. She arched her back, tried to get him to press harder, to go faster, but he was having none of it. He was determined to drag this out until she really did have a heart attack.
His mouth skimmed across her stomach, pressing kisses up one side of her rib cage and down the other. His tongue darted out, stroked the sensitive skin between each of her ribs before licking a long, straight trail from her navel to
her collarbone.
Fire bloomed inside her wherever he touched, burned across her skin before sinking in to the flesh below as he delivered a series of small, stinging kisses. She cried out, clutched at his hair, but he only laughed. It was a low, wicked sound that wrapped itself around her nerve endings and took her even higher.
When she was on the brink of screaming, crying, begging, he brushed his mouth over her nipple, darted his tongue out and licked her before blowing a slow, steady stream of air across the aching bud.
She did scream then, her breathing coming faster and faster as she waited for him to do it again. He made her wait, one second, two, and then his mouth was on her. His hand kneaded her breast as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth and then nipped at her, using his teeth and tongue to sting and soothe and deliver more pleasure than she’d ever dreamed possible.
Jack moved from one breast to the other, one nipple to the other, sucking her hard one second and then barely touching her the next. She never knew what he was going to do, never knew what kind of pleasure to expect, and it kept her on the edge of a precipice even as it took her higher and higher and higher.
And then he was shifting again, kissing his way down her breasts as his hands moved over her abdomen and then lower, his fingers dancing over her mons and the soft curls there.
“Open your legs for me, Sophie,” he murmured, his voice low and deep and sexier than she had ever heard it.
For the first time since they’d started this, nerves assailed her. Her thighs trembled as she tried to work up the nerve to open herself to him completely, to let him into this most sensitive, private place. The only man to ever do this to her had been Jeff and even then, not until they’d been together for a while and not all that often. The idea of doing it with Jack now…it was a lot to wrap her head around.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when she continued to hesitate. He didn’t rush her, didn’t try to coerce her, didn’t grab on to her thighs and open her himself. He simply waited, his mind and body completely attuned to hers.
Slowly, so slowly she wasn’t sure she was even doing it, she spread her thighs apart. Then held her breath and waited as his gaze shifted from her face to her sex. He didn’t touch, didn’t race to the prize, just spent long, leisurely seconds looking his fill. Her thighs were trembling and her heart was beating way too fast by the time he reached a single finger toward her and began to stroke.
“You’re so beautiful here,” he said, and it was almost a growl. “So pink and soft and beautiful that it hurts to look at you. I want to be inside you so damn badly that I’m about to lose my mind.”
They weren’t love words, but they were real and honest and so sexy that she felt herself surrender once and for all.
“Take me,” she begged arching to meet his finger. “Please, Jack, I need you so badly that it hurts. Please make love to me. Please.”
He groaned, then lowered his head so that his tongue could replace his finger on her soft, slick folds.
She jumped at the unexpectedness of the caress, then melted as he swiped his tongue over her labia a second and then a third time. It felt nothing like she’d ever imagined, nothing like she’d ever dreamed about. It was hotter, wetter, sexier, and more pleasurable than she might ever have guessed it could be.
Lifting her head to look at him, to watch him as he went down on her, she was shocked by the intensity of his gaze, by the dark and wicked sensuality of his face. He was as wrapped up in her as she was in him, his entire focus on the fire the two of them were building.
Then he pressed his face against her sex, inhaled, his fingers shifting lower, clamping down on her thighs to hold them open for him, and he thrust his tongue deep inside her. She screamed and bucked beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair as she stared blindly at the ceiling.
And then he began to move, his tongue driving into her again and again, stroking her pussy from the inside as he stoked the flame inside her to fever pitch. He was devouring her, swamping her, taking her to a place where there was no time, no problems, nothing but pure sensation.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, when her body was on the brink of shattering into a million irretrievable pieces, he stopped. Withdrew. And his tongue went from driving deep to fluttering silkily.
As his tongue clicked back and forth across her clit, he slid one finger from his good hand inside her slowly. Then he bent that finger a little, so that it pressed against the front wall of her vagina and she shattered.
There was no slow build-up to orgasm, no gently increasing tension. She exploded as pleasure, white-hot and unbearable, poured through her.
“Sophie,” Jack groaned even as he slid a second finger into her. “You feel amazing. I could stay here forever making you come over and over again and die a very happy man.”
She licked her lips, tried to talk, but her voice was broken, her ability to breathe nearly gone. She was simply lost in sensation, the rhythmic contractions inside of her stealing everything from her but the pleasure.
Before they could ebb, he was at it again, licking and sucking at her clit until the tension bloomed hotter than ever, the sensations building and crashing continually. He hurtled her into another orgasm and then another one, his mouth moving over and against her until there wasn’t a part of her body that wasn’t on fire. Her breasts ached, her nipples burned, her arms and legs and stomach and back felt so sensitive that even the air acted as a stimulant.
“Stop,” she gasped. “Please, Jack, you have to stop. I can’t take this.”
“You can take it,” he growled against her. “You can take this and more, Sophie. You can take everything I want to give you.”
* * *
HER BREATH was seesawing in and out of her lungs, and hot tears of pleasure, of surrender, were leaking out of her eyes, and still he needed to drive her higher. Still he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Making her come, watching her flush and writhe and moan, was one of the most sublime experiences of his life.
He was so hard he really thought he was going to explode. Every sound she made shot right through him until the act of breathing was agony. He was so sensitive that even the silky fabric of the sheets hurt and he knew if he didn’t get some relief he was going to go insane.
And still he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching her, kissing her, licking her. He wanted to make this good for her, needed to make sure that no matter what happened in the future—she would remember these moments between them.
“Jack, you have to stop. You have to stop.” She was crying out in earnest now, the pleasure so overwhelming that everything else had ceased to exist. Which was what he’d wanted, what he’d needed—her so lost in the pleasure that when he did take her she would remember only how good it felt to have him inside of her.
Keeping his fingers deep inside her, he slid up her body slowly, delivering kisses on every body part he could reach before he finally claimed her mouth. Her hand came up to cup his cheek and he melted a little as her fingers stroked tenderly.
“Are you ready?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes!” Her hips bumped against his. “Yes, Jack. Yes, yes, yes!”
“Then kiss me again.”
He slid deep with one thrust of his hips and she screamed a little, then whimpered.
“Are you okay?” he demanded, ripping his mouth from hers.
She didn’t answer. Her head was thrashing back and forth against the pillow while her hands clutched at his hips and her body shuddered underneath his. “Sophie?” he asked again, the feel of her rippling around him taking him all the way to the edge of his control. He was going to lose it soon, lose it quickly, and he needed to make sure she was okay. “Sophie, answer me!”
“Do it!” she cried, her nails digging into his back. “Do it, Jack. You’re killing me!”
Her words were all the answer
he needed and he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in again and again, each time faster and harder than the one before it until both he and Sophie were on the edge of orgasm.
Her hands were all over him, racing over his back, clutching at his ass, tangling in his hair as her hips moved beneath his with more and more surety. She felt amazing, tight and hot and so slick that he could barely breathe. He was close, so close that he swore the top of his head was going to blow off when he finally allowed himself to come, but he was determined to bring her with him.
Moving his hand between them again, he rubbed against her at the same time he told her, “Let go, Sophie.” His voice was so low and guttural he barely recognized it. “Let me feel you, sweetheart.”
She gasped, wrapped her legs around his upper thighs and pistoned her hips against his. His eyes crossed, his breath held in his chest and his restraint shattered. Grabbing her hips, he thrust himself inside her hard. She screamed and started coming. The rhythmic contractions set him off, his orgasm roaring through him like an engine letting off steam.
Sophie clutched at his shoulders, and pulled him down on top of her. He let her, and as her hard nipples brushed against his chest, he gave himself over to his release and came and came and came.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AFTER SHE’D STOPPED trembling in the aftermath, Sophie lay in bed and waited for her heartbeat to slow. Wow. Just wow. She’d known Jack was a generous guy, but never in her life would she have imagined he would be a lover like that. Her body, and her heart, might never recover.
Admittedly, she’d only had one real lover in her life, Jeff, and he’d been a caring, wonderful husband. But he hadn’t rocked her body the way Jack had, hadn’t made her forget everything but the two of them and the amazing things he was doing to her . As for the boys she’d slept with when she was young and stupid, looking for someone, anyone, to love her—they weren’t even in the same galaxy. Of course, she barely remembered any of their names or what they looked like, while she had a feeling she’d never be able to forget anything about Jack.