Page 41 of A Dark Fall
“Always so fucking polite, aren’t you?” he says. “One day, I’ll get you to beg me to fuck you hard, Alex. I promise you that.”
“Okay ... whatever you want, only, can you ...? I need you,” I manage.
At my words, a strange look passes over his face that I don’t entirely understand, but it feels intense. I think I’ve done something wrong again because slowly, he pulls out of me. Oh, god, no. Please, no. His face is a mask of concentration as he withdraws, but then his eyes flash wide and he thrusts into me fully. Deliciously. Finally.
The noise that comes from my throat is unlike any noise I’ve ever made. His groan is rough and scratched, and I love it. He shifts, leaning up to watch himself moving in and out, and the sight of him doing it is so completely erotic I find I can’t look away.
“Fuck, Alex ...” he moans as he thrusts, alternating between hard and gentle and deep and circular in a perfect harmony of movement. He kisses and licks at my mouth as his hands roam my body: my hip, the flat of my tummy, my nipple, my throat. And then his fingers are in my mouth, and I’m sucking on them as he watches me.
As I feel myself get close again, I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him hard, biting down on his lip, which only makes him fuck me harder. My hands try to pull him deeper into me, clutching at his hair and scratching at his back to do all I can think of to feel him closer.
“I want you to come around my cock, Alex,” he growls close to my ear. “I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”
Holy Christ.
He speeds up his thrusts as he brings his fingers between my legs to find the nub of pleasure between our bodies. Then he circles it magnificently. With his mouth at my neck, biting and nibbling, he orders me to come for him—which, a second later, I do.
“That’s it, baby.” He kisses my neck and throat and fucks me as the climax courses through me. “That’s it.”
Jake’s movement changes, and he sits up, pulling my legs around his waist. With his hands finding my hips, he pulls me onto his cock, rough and sharp. He’s close. I can see it on his face, feel it in his movements—careless and hurried now. Sliding one hand up to my throat, I think he’s going to do something I’m not quite ready to deny him, but he doesn’t. He just rests it there, the other hand gripping my hip, as his orgasm shudders through him. He tilts his head back and curses before cowering over my body to kiss me, holding onto my mouth and sucking my tongue as the curses turn to long moans. His moans are low and raw and primal, and they touch something deep inside.
I can’t think. Or breathe. He feels so good, and I’m so hot. I feel boneless and weightless, my body soft with pleasure.
“Fucking hell ...” he breathes raggedly against my neck. He slows to a stop and kisses down my mouth to my chin, where he bites me softly, growling playfully as he does. It’s an adorable little sound that reminds me of a puppy.
He stays inside me for some time after he comes, kissing my throat, neck, forehead, and nose before finally touching his lips to mine. He’s a ton of muscle on top of me, but he’s not suffocating. Not at all. He’s a comforting, necessary weight, like a paperweight in a windy room.
Then—because I thought that, of course—he shifts and pulls out, coming to lie on his back next to me. His skin is sticky and sucks against my own as we both lie there and wait for our breathing to return to normal. When I glance around to look at him, I’m certain he looks sated and satisfied. I really hope he is. I hope it was as good for him as it was for me.
The next thought that hits me is how incredible he looks postcoital. His face is flushed, his hair mussed, and his lips wet and kissed raw. Pride and something else shoots through me.I did that. Me.When he turns his head to look at me, lust roars again at the sight of that sharp canine smile as his mouth pulls up at one side. Christ, he’s incredible. A sexy, gorgeous, deadly incredible that makes me feel way out of my depth.
“Well, I knew it would feel like that with you,” he says, still breathing hard.
My breath falters. “Like what?”
He shrugs and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “You know. Like that.”
Do I know? I know it felt amazing and intense and mind-blowing. Is that what he means?Is this always how sex is for him? I’m not always that good. It’s never been that good for me.
“It was definitely ... something.”
He opens his eyes, and a worried look crosses his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“What? No. You didn’t hurt me.”
He relaxes and nods, smiling again. “Well, Doctor, I wish I could say the same about you. I think you ripped the skin off my back, and my lip might still be bleeding.” He pouts his lip out. “You always so violent? What the fuck happened to your bedside manner?”
A wave of embarrassment washes over me. Christ, I scratched and bit him. I lean over to inspect his lip. It looks a little swollen and a lot kissable.
“Hmm ... I think you’ll live.”
“Well, that’s good.” He leans up and kisses me. “Because I wouldn’t mind doing that again.A lot.” His voice is low, and I feel him still semi-hard against my leg. It’s a good thing I’m lying down because I may have just swooned.
He wants to do it a lot. I can almost hear the hallelujah music in my head. Then it’s muffled by the sudden need to pee.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, springing up from the bed.
As I walk around the bed, I glance at him, and I swear the image of him lying naked and semi-hard on my bed incurs a double take. He looks like something from a fantasy, all hard muscles framed by tattoos and the lustful, wicked grin. Definitely one for the memory bank. When I’m old and gray, at least I can say,“Jake Lawrence—what a fine specimen of a man he was.”