Page 29 of First Surrender
Of course, nothing to shove off in a flurry of passion because of how meticulously organized he is. If I wasn’t so preoccupied, I’d make fun of him for it.
When he grabs the back of his shirt with an arm stretched behind his head and rips it off, throwing it across the room, my swollen lips hang open. He looks like fucking Hercules. Abs, pecs, all smooth skin. Sculpted from perfection.
I can’t stand him.
His eyes are trained on my body, too. I’m laid out in front of him, impaled and at his mercy. My cleavage is spilling out of my bra, my top is still stretched low below the cups. My skirt is bunched at my waist and I watch as his eyes zero in on where we’re joined.
I wasn’t expecting this to happen with him or anyone. I haven’t shaved and refuse to be self-conscious about it, but he also does not look like a man who cares. He’s looking at me with nothing but obvious appreciation.
I try to ignore it. If this is only for tonight he can’t keep looking at me like that, but he does more than look. He swipes the pad of his thumb over his tongue and draws it through my folds, reaching the peak and circling my clit. The sensationunleashes another whimper from me and I let my head fall back against the wooden desk. I need a muzzle.
When I look at him again because I can’t not watch him, he’s already watching me with fascination. It’s analytical, the way he’s touching me, toying with me. I make a sound and he documents it in his head for ways to use it against me later, I’m sure.
His thumb circles my clit again and I bite my lip, refusing to give him any more satisfaction, but he doesn’t relent. He rubs me firmly, meticulously, and until my legs start twitching against his hips. He takes that queue to start moving inside of me.
He thrusts his cock in me slowly, only a few inches at a time, working my pussy like he owns it. I don’t want that. I don’t want him to figure out what makes me tick.
No man has ever made me cum. They either never cared to or weren’t smart enough to figure it out. I don’t want Jackson to have the satisfaction of being the first.
He would never know, but I would and I can’t let that happen. I grab his hips and make him fuck me harder. I want brutal and rough, I don’t want soft. He moves with me, letting me control the pace, his jaw slack with pleasure. It’s going exactly how I want until his hand starts slipping off my clit with the momentum that I’m forcing.
His gaze flicks to mine and it’s as if he realizes I’m taking control for the wrong reason. He takes my arms from his hips and yanks me up until our chests meet, kissing me senseless and stealing every bit of conscious thought from my mind.
The way he kisses me makes me tingle down to my toes.
No one has ever been able to read me so intimately, make me feel things so entirely.
“Don’t fight me, not now,” he whispers against my lips.
Before I can respond he flips me over like a rag doll, knocking the air from my lungs as I land in position on my stomach.
He doesn’t hesitate to drive into me from behind, fucking me, ruthlessly. The grip of his hands on my ass is forcing my hips back as his move forward. It’s too much, I can’t catch my breath. The length of his cock is hitting my back wall without mercy, over and over. I can’t stop the sounds coming out of me and with every thrust, I’m sure I’m going to split in half.
Tears are streaming down my face and my thighs are digging into the edge of the desk repeatedly, with biting pain. I’m going to be bruised and sore tomorrow. The last thing I want is to have something to remember this by.
His hand reaches under my hip and he starts working my sensitive nub again, never letting up his rhythm. It only takes me a second to realize that it’s over for me. The build-up of pressure is too strong, it feels too good. I’m not going to be able to stop myself from climaxing and I’ve never been more pissed.
Batting his hand away is my last ditch effort to regain my bearings to stop the inevitable, but my hand is wrenched away before I can and both of my arms are pinned behind my back while he fucks me.
My core tightens as my thighs shake, and all I can utter is “no, no, no,” as I have the most explosive orgasm of my entire life.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
No amount of reason could stop me from driving myself into her over and over. Not even a gun to my head. From the moment she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me, I knew I couldn’t fight her. I was going to give her every single thing that she wanted.
No one holds that type of power over me. I’ve expertly curated my life with absolute independence in mind, never letting a single person influence my decision-making, until her.
Whatever witchcraft she possesses has thrown my life completely off balance. I need the consistency, the logic. My attraction to her is anything but logical. She’s rude and abrasive. She sees the worst in me and pulls it to the surface with every interaction.
This time is no different. Except, instead of screaming at each other, I’m fucking her on top of my desk. The desk that I worked my ass off to obtain. I’m practically destroying my career with every thrust of my hips but I can’t stop. Not when she’s making those little sounds that surge electricity directly into my bloodstream.
Her body is perfect. My deepest desires couldn’t have done better.
My hands mold perfectly to the narrow part of her waist, giving me the best control of the hips that I’ve never been able to stop staring at and an ass that I finally get to appreciate.
It’s still not enough, I want to bury my face in it and leave bite marks all over her backside. I want to mark her entire body so she can’t ignore that this ever happened. I want her to wake up tomorrow and feel me everywhere. I want her aching for days.