Page 97 of Jesse's Girl
I pull down the waistband of his underwear and wrap my fingers around Jesse’s stiff shaft.
“Fuck, Ada…”
I rub the head of his cock, watching the furrow in his brow deepen with concentration. With obvious effort, he keeps reading.
“… and he ss-sslid both hands up her so-ooft thighs,”—he’s losing this battle now—“lifting her dress hi-higher.”
Grumbling a warning, he slides his free hand up my leg, his thumb dipping into a tear near the pocket of my jean shorts.
It almost tickles and my breath skitters.
Okay. Two can play this game.
Impressively, he continues reading as I slowly stroke him.
“Fi-iinding the triangle of lace between them, he-eee yanked it to the side and slipped his fingers through her ss-slick—Oh, fuck, I can’t do this anymore,” he says, tossing the book onto the couch and crashing his mouth into mine.
His hands plunge into my hair, angling my head as his tongue searches my mouth, licking and tasting me like he’s been starving.
“But what happens with his throbbing manhood?” I tease, my voice muffled against his lips.
“Shut up, Ada,” he bites out, reaching between my legs and under the inseam of my shorts. His fingers tease my clit through my soaked panties.
I moan, softly at first, then louder when he draws the fabric aside to slip a fingertip against my bare center. A pulse of heat washes over me, and when I tighten my grip, he growls into my mouth.
God. Fucking. Damn. Those sounds he makes…
He drags a finger through my wetness and circles it over my clit, increasing the pressure until my thighs are twitching. Through my tank top and bra, his lips and teeth tease the tight peaks of my nipples through the fabric. He slides his finger inside me, pulsing and pushing as I rock my hips.
The bunched fabric of my panties and jean shorts rub against my clit and I hold onto the back of his neck with one hand, pumping his cock faster with the other as I drift toward the edges of my sanity.
“Ada, fuck…” he whispers between my breasts. “Slow down or I’m gonna come.” Gently, he guides my hand away, placing it on the back of the couch. He pauses, looking like he’s trying to collect himself.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Barely,” he says, smiling. “But let me take care of you first. Because after I make you come…”—he claims my lips in a searing kiss—“I wanna fuck this pretty mouth.”
I almost jolt when he pushes another finger inside me, curling and pumping them with aching perfection. “Holy shit,” I say, my voice tight, forehead pressed into his. “Right there. Harder.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he purrs against my cheek, increasing the pressure.
When he yanks down my tank top and bra with his free hand and sucks on my nipple, it’s more than I can bear. My entire body tenses and I dig my nails into his shoulders, feeling like I’m holding on for dear life as the tension builds. My climax slams into me like a freight train as Jesse’s fingers speed up, drawing it out and carrying me through the rolling waves of blissful release.
My head is on his shoulder when it finally slows and he chuckles into my hair.
“God, I love the way you feel coming on my hand,” he whispers.
“Well,” I say, “can’t say an audiobook has ever done that for me.”
The rumble of his laughter wraps around me like a familiar embrace—soothing and close and… safe.
I sigh, sated and sleepy, and sit up as he slips his fingers out, then watch with rekindled fire burning inside me as he licks them clean with a low hum of pleasure.
If I thought I was momentarily satisfied after that orgasm, I was wrong; I already feel like I could eat him alive. Climbing off his lap, I move to kneel at his feet.
“Wait,” he says as he lifts my chin with a finger. “Go put on that red lipstick you have.”
“What?” I smile in confusion. “Really? You want me to?—”