Page 90 of Jesse's Girl
Air rushes from my lungs.
Oh, fuck… That might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
He looks down at me, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Rubbing his thumb against my clit, he watches my reaction, speeding up when my breath starts to skitter. “Were you thinking about me?”
My cheeks are on fire now. I bite my lip and nod.
“Good answer.” He fills me again and again and I whimper, nearly losing it right then and there. “Show me, Ada.”
I reach a shaking hand down, trailing my fingers through the slick, warm wetness where our bodies meet. As I rub it in circles over my swollen clit, my eyes roll.
He pumps inside me in a steady rhythm, clearly pacing himself—holding back to stay in control.
My fingers slip in tight circles over my clit, coaxing my pleasure until it’s building to a peak, gathering as the sensations of his incredible cock and my fast fingers swim together. I hold onto the back of his neck with my free hand and yank him down, plunging my tongue into his mouth, sweeping and sliding it over his until there is nothing in the world except this moment—this all-consuming sensation of Jesse fucking me, kissing me, driving me toward oblivion. I clench around him, my fingernails biting into his skin. When I start to gasp, he responds with a throaty groan; I’m close and we both know it.
“That’s it, Ada.” He’s almost whimpering with each bucking movement of his hips. “You feel so fucking good.”
“When I come,” I whisper, “don’t hold back, okay?”
“Oh, fuck, okay.” He can barely get the words out.
My gasps turn scattered and strained against his cheek, and I hold my breath as I start to go over the edge, clinging to his neck.
“Yes,” he grits out, speeding up. “C’mon.”
And then I’m undone. My release explodes across my senses, the muscles of my core clenching and pulsing around him. “Oh, fuck!” I bite out between the waves thundering through me. Lights spark behind the dark of my eyelids, the sound in my head is a deafening rush, and pulses of tingling sensation ripple outward from my center to lick the tips of my fingers and toes.
Jesse doesn’t stop. His chest heaves as he fucks me relentlessly, turning me to liquid—boneless and floating.
“Come inside me,” I beg him, still riding out my pulsing orgasm. “Fill me. Make a mess of me. Please.” I reach my free hand around to his ass, digging my nails into his skin.
More. Oh, God, yes.
I meet him with every thrust, clenching around him, crying out with pleasure.
Losing his grip on control, he unleashes a whole new level of depth and speed. He lets out a loud groan as he comes, slamming and shuddering into me with everything he has left.
He collapses down over me, our chests pressed together and heaving, slick with sweat.
We stay like that for a while—I don’t know how long. Grinning and blissed out, I softly trace my fingers over his shoulders. I feel cosmic. Sparkly. Overheated and raw… And yet, somehow, under the heavy press of his weight, I also feel calmer than I have in a long time.
“Holy shit,” he rumbles against my cheek when he can speak again, then reaches up to rub a hand over his damp face. His gaze is clouded—like he’s looking through me.
With those familiar blue eyes suddenly far away, I can’t read him, and concern threatens at the edge of my mind. Reality is quickly solidifying; we just crossed one hell of a line and there’s no going back. Suddenly self-conscious, I grasp for my sarcastic shields—spitballing biting comments I could use to push him away.
Quick, insult him before he can reject you.
“Regretting this already?” I let out a wry laugh to cover up my vulnerability.
He’s still inside me, for fuck’s sake.
He seems to focus on me again, and he smiles as he shakes his head. “Regret fucking you? God, no.” He dips down to kiss me, his lips soft and warm in the calm that’s descended over us. “Listen to me. You’re perfect. That was perfect. Unbelievable. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He kisses me again, tender and slow, and it’s like a balm smoothing over the jagged edges of my uncertainty. “I will do it again, if you’ll let me.”
I exhale and nod, careful not to show the depth of my relief.
“My only regret,” he says, nosing my cheek, “is that now, every time I so much as look at you, I’m gonna be remembering what it felt like to be inside you. And that”—he sucks in a breath as he pulls out—“is going to be an enormous fucking problem.” He rolls onto his back, sighing softly, then turns to me. “What about you? Regretting it?”
“Never,” I say quickly. “Bullying you into fucking me? Best decision I’ve ever made.”