Page 47 of Like You Know
His hips started to jerk under me, matching my movements and giving me more of the friction I craved. It was sweet torture. I was exactly where I wanted to be, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of Jet.
My body became a ball of sensation, heat coursing through me. My pussy clenched around nothing as I shamelessly rubbed myself against him. I was definitely soaking through my underwear, probably making a mess on his jeans, and I didn’t even care.
I could feel an orgasm building as we clawed at each other as though possessed, but I just couldn’t get there. The pleasure was heady, every nerve in my body on the precipice, but I couldn’t get over that edge.
I broke our kiss, panting, and groaned. The sound was something between sexy and frustrated.
“What’s wrong?” Jet’s husky voice, even deeper than usual, made me shiver. Or maybe it was his swollen mouth trailing kisses down my neck as his hand on my ass encouraged me to keep grinding against him.
“Nothing. Everything is very, very right.” I swallowed and gasped as he found that sensitive spot at the curve of my neck and sucked. “It’s just ... uh ...”
He pulled back to look at me, his eyes hooded with desire, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.
“What is it, Amaya?” Some of the lust fog in his gaze cleared, and I hated it. I wanted to stay in this bubble of hormones and pheromones forever, drunk on each other.
“I just, uh, need more. To get there.” I gave him a meaningful look, and he smirked, immediately catching on to what I was saying.
“I told you I’m not going to fuck you here,” he said, and I couldn’t stop my shoulders from slumping dramatically. I may have even stuck my bottom lip out in a full-on pout. “But I can make you feel good in a thousand different ways without even taking my pants off.”
I stared at him, my mouth falling open as I trembled a little. Was the sun setting? It could’ve been rising on the next day for all I cared.
“Tell me what you need, beautiful.” He swiped his thumb over my bottom lip, dragging it down slightly, and I reflexively darted my tongue out to lick it. I wanted to lick every inch of this guy. And I always got what I wanted.
But right now, I wanted to come. “Touch me. Make me come.”
With my permission and my demand, Jet gripped my waist and kissed me savagely. He encouraged my hips to keep rolling against his hard length as he dipped his hands under my shirt. There was no hesitancy or uncertainty in his touch; he just went for it, cupping my tits and giving them a light squeeze.
For a split second, I was self-conscious about my meager B cups, wondering if he would be satisfied with them. But then he groaned into my mouth, his kisses became sloppier, and I realized he didn’t care. Guys never cared about the size of your boobs, really. They were just happy to be touching boobs.
Moving one hand to my back, he quickly discovered the bralette I was wearing didn’t have a clasp, so he just pulled the flimsy lace aside and started playing with my nipples. It was just the right amount of pain as he pinched lightly, then the perfect amount of pressure as he cupped them and massaged again.
It was driving me wild, but it still wasn’t enough.
“Jet.” I licked his lips, panting. “I need more.Touch me.” I gripped his wrist and guided his hand between my legs. “Touch me here.”
He didn’t respond. There were no more words between us—just panting breaths and moans as he gave me what I needed.
His hand dipped under my skirt, his strong fingers caressing my thigh. Every pass of his touch moved higher until his thumb skimmed the edge of my underwear. Then he pressed that thumb right at my entrance and rubbed it up to my clit, making me gasp.
“Jesus ...” He swallowed, then shuddered lightly. “So ... fuck ... wet ...”
It wasn’t anywhere near a complete sentence, but I knew what he was saying. He could feel that I’d soaked through my underwear, and he liked it. A lot.
He wriggled his thumb under the sodden fabric and repeated the same caress from my dripping entrance to my clit. With nothing between me and his touch, the sensation was a thousand times more intense. I could feel just how wet I was, his touch gliding over my engorged flesh. After all that buildup, I was so close, but he wasn’t done teasing me, exploring me.
He grazed my opening, glided up and down my lips, and flicked my clit with light movements.
I cried out and bucked my hips, but the touch vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. I whined and frowned at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. His head was hanging, his gaze fixed on the spot where his hand disappeared up my skirt.
I reached down and yanked the hem back so we’d both have a better view.
He took my lead and extracted his other hand from under my shirt. As I leaned back slightly to give him more room, he shoved the gusset of my panties to the side. I was completely exposed to him and the warm breeze, which only served to ratchet up my excitement.
He started rubbing my clit more firmly and consistently, and that breathless, rising tide began to course through me.
Shifting slightly, he brought two fingers to my entrance, but the way he had to lean to get the angle right jostled the motorbike and made me feel as if I might topple off. I startled and grabbed on to his shoulders.
We shared an amused look, and he encouraged me to lean back again. I found a good grip on the handlebars behind me, and his thick, strong fingers got back to work.