“I want to start.”
He swept me up in his arms and encouraged me to wrap my legs around his waist before he carried me upstairs. As soon as we hit the master bedroom, Jake shoved me against the wall and pressed his body weight into me. I felt his erection hard against my stomach.
“Dig your heels into my ass,” he demanded, and I did. I should have felt crushed, but it felt more like I was wrapped up in a cocoon.
I was turning into someone I barely recognized. A sex addict, and Jake had never even been inside me. Yet.
We kissed, a deep, open-mouthed kiss so very different from the way he normally kissed me. His tongue swept along the roof of my mouth before he pulled it out and sucked on my lower lip. A moan rumbled from his chest, and I felt it wander through my whole body. A slight shiver ran up my spine.
Jake stopped and leaned his forehead into mine. “Okay?” he muttered.
“Yes.”
“Feel good?”
His fingers traced down my side—over my shirt—and trailed back up underneath the cotton fabric. I felt his calluses scratch against the surface of my skin, and small goose pimples broke out along the way.
“Feels really good,” I said in return.
Jake tore my shirt off in the next moment and my hands flew up on their own, allowing him to lift it over my head. He tossed it on the floor and brought both my hands over my head, holding them high with one of his, supporting my weight with his body as he went back to kissing.
We kissed and ground against each other, pelvis to pelvis, then kissed and ground some more. At every turn, Jake let me know how far to go or when to back off.
I was excited, more so than I’d ever been. I’d had three lovers—one in college, one in law school, and one since. College and law school had been all about experimenting. Of course, my sex partners had been introverted geeks like me. None of them were like the raw hunk of man who was now carrying me to the bed and spreading me out in front of him.
Jake shimmied off my leggings, revealing my cotton thong. He swiped his finger up the seam, putting pressure of my most sensitive spot through the fabric.
“Soaked,” he murmured. “For me?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at me expectantly, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t possible for me to be this wet for someone else.
But since he’d stopped and apparently expected an answer, I gave him one. “For you.”
His index finger slipped under the small strap and ripped the thong away, revealing me completely. Jake sucked in a breath, then ran his finger up my slit and down again. He entered me with one finger and then two, before he brought his lips down to mine and fucked my mouth.
The most erotic thoughts I’d ever had filled my head. Five minutes with this man fingering me, and I wanted it all. All of him. Everything life had to offer. With him.
“Jake,” I mumbled into his mouth, and he stilled.
“You okay?”
My nails traced up and down his back. “Yeah, more. It feels good.”
His thumb landed where I needed it as his fingers continued to pump in and out of me. A small climax grew into something epic inside me. I came on his name—it came floating out of my mouth in a whisper before it whipped out on a scream a second time. He placed his free hand on my chest to still me while the fireworks racked my body. All the while his fingers continued to slide slowly in and out of me, draining me. It was the most epic orgasm ever.
He kissed me again, his tongue lapping my lips in concert with the motions of his fingers before sweeping through my mouth. “You could dig your nails deeper next time,” he murmured against my lips, his breath tickling my mouth as he spoke. “Leave me with evidence that you liked that as much as I think you did.”
Next time? I wasn’t sure anything could top this time.
“You still have all your clothes on and I’m totally naked,” I said with a pout. “And you’re the one with the hot body.”
“First things first.”
He sat up and straddled me, careful not to let all his weight cover me as he licked his two fingers that had been inside me, taking time to run his tongue up and down each one. Tiny sparks flitted up my core at the carnal display, embers of desire I didn’t know I was capable of.
Watching my reaction, he tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside. Then he took my hand and brought it to the top of his fly and said, “You do it.”
With shaking fingers, I undid the button and unzipped the zipper. He stood and kicked off his shoes, then shoved his jeans off. His muscles rippled on every inch of his torso, his six-pack—no, eight-pack—on full display. I gave myself permission to drink him in fully, taking in his decadent quads, so huge and firm. Just like his erection.
He came back and spread out on top of me, keeping his weight on one arm as he reached his other hand to stroked his shaft. After just a few strokes, he released himself to take my hand and guide it under his, showing me how to do what he’d been doing moments before on his own. His eyes closed at my touch, and he moaned.
“Feels so good, Aly. I know you’re nervous, and so am I. This is new for me too. Trusting someone.”
I squeezed him a tiny bit tighter and pumped my hand a little faster, causing him to groan.
“Do you want me?” he asked, his eyes still sealed shut, hiding any reservations or fear he might have had.
“Yes.”
When he opened his blue eyes, I saw myself, my reflection needy and wanton swimming in him. He got up, leaving me drowning in a sea of Jake without a life preserver. I wasn’t a strong swimmer, but something about this man made me want to cross the Atlantic.
I watched him pull a foil wrapper from his jeans, tear it open, and slide it over his shaft. Need filled my throat, blocking my airway. If he didn’t slip inside me soon, I was going to expire, combust, or go stark raving mad, but I waited because he was in charge.
Then he did what I so desperately wanted. He held himself over me while he guided himself slowly inside me, inch by delicious inch, until his length hit the deepest part of me, touching me where none of my previous lovers had.
Oh my God. I’d heard of the G-spot, and now I knew what all the raving was about on the pages of Cosmo and Marie Claire. I always considered those magazines to be for other women—gorgeous, sensual woman who were nothing like me—but I would definitely have to hit the newsstand this week.
Jake’s breathing hitched as he started sliding in and out of me at a leisurely pace, hitting that spot over and over, each time dragging a louder moan from my throat.
“You feel so fucking good,” he said in a hushed voice. “So tight and wet. Like heaven but better, because you’re Aly.”
His hand brought both of mine back over my head like when we were against the wall, and he picked up the pace. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more wonderful, his free hand reached for my clit. I never knew I adored my clit so much, but when his finger flicked over the nub, my back came off the bed.
This time it wasn’t fireworks, more an explosion like a bomb or a nuclear weapon. Something out of this world rocketed through me, draining me completely.
Sated, I lay on the pillows, the sheet drawn up over my chest while Jake went to dispose of the condom.
“I don’t have any towels,” I called out as the reality of my situation hit me.
I’d been forced from my home and was living in a rental property owned by the man I’d just made love with—or slept with, whatever it was. The same man who was walking toward me, holding a wet washcloth and wearing nothing but a wide grin.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I had some stocked in the bathroom from the gym.”
Jake gently cleaned me up, tossed the towel on the floor, and gathered me in his arms and held me until I fell asleep, this wonderful man who must have let Maverick out to pee while I slept.
And he was the same man who was snoring softly next to me when I woke up Monday morning.