He said he’d fuck me. I wondered how it’d feel to be thoroughly ravished.
He warned he’d take me unprotected. It only excited me.
I craved the feeling of skin against skin. It was dangerous to fuck his bare cock. We knew what would happen. We agreed to it. We understood it.
We wanted it.
He’d take, he’d claim, and I’d love every second of it. This wasn’t just sex. This primal instinct blended a natural craving with submission and dominance and pleasure. The night would destroy us and create us and lose us within the lust of our own unconfined desires.
Our clothes ripped off. Jack tossed me against his bed with such a fierce and virile pride it was like he planned this conquering from the first time he saw me.
Did he know how reckless we’d become within each other’s arms?
“God, I want you,” he grunted.
“Not as bad as I want you.”
Jack tore my panties from my legs. The dress was lost somewhere in the stairs. I waited beneath him. Naked, sweating. His lips burned my already heated skin.
His voice pinned me to the bed. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you. You’re the only damn reason I even signed a publicist.”
“You needed me.”
“Maybe.” He peeled his shirt off. “Didn’t you notice? Every time you rejected me, I acted out. Caused a new scandal. Fuck, Kiss. The more trouble I got in, the more often I got to see you.”
My tummy flipped. “But you made my life miserable.”
“You tortured me more.”
I felt like I could be honest with him while naked. I’d reveal my body and the innermost thoughts to a man who would soon control them both.
“You made everything so hard for me,” I said.
Jack seized my nipples in his mouth. His lips sealed over the tip. “Speak for yourself.”
I shivered. His tongue swirled over my nipple, hardening the bud, sucking to earn a squeal and then a moan and then a dozen more shivers.
His hands gripped me as if I would dare to bolt. I didn’t have the strength to pull from the bed, not while he seized my nipple and suckled to watch me squirm. I demanded more of his mouth, his touch, his body. His tongue flicked over my breast and every little nip earned my squeal. He liked that. He bit harder and I tried to flinch away.
It was useless.
Jack was a monster of a man. Covered in tattoos. Tensing with muscle. Grinding a cock impossibly hard and frighteningly large against my leg. He flexed as he held me down, revealing the chiseled definition of his body.
This man was a God.
I never saw, never touched such muscle. He positioned his body over me, steady. His biceps didn’t tremble as he supported his entire weight. He leaned over me, and one thing was absolutely certain.
He was stronger, sexier, more confident than any man had right to be.
And he knew it.
That was why his cock was so hard. That was why he feasted on my body, why his kisses edged from nipple to nipple. They layered a heated path from the underside of my breast to my navel. Then, finally, they descended where he had already claimed with his mouth twice before.
I wetted for him. Too much. Embarrassingly so. I passed ready and lost myself in desperation. My hips arched to meet his mouth, and the strike of his tongue against my clit rendered me useless, weak, and rattled with shivers.
“So sweet.” Jack murmured. He unbuckled his pants, but his lips never left my pussy. He licked and sucked and enjoyed me. “I want you to come for me.”
God, I came every time Jack touched me. Every time I thought about him. When I fantasized about him. At night, I touched myself imagining being stripped and at his mercy. In my bed, I’d traced my fingers in my slit and imagined the stroke of my hand was his exploring tongue within my petals.
And now I had him again, just where my body needed.
But his tongue wasn’t enough this time. I whimpered. He understood. Jack spread my legs and surveyed my nudity. Every moment of his gaze was endless praise, and I never felt so desired.
He licked his finger and stared at me. I gasped as he poked my slit, exploring my tight entrance. I held my breath as he pushed within me.
“Tease…” I whispered.
The touch only heated me more. His finger became something for my body to clench. I imagined it was his hard cock, fantasized about the torrent of cum he promised me.
His lips wrapped around my clit as he thrust with his finger—in and out, rubbing every inch of my delicate core. He hooked his finger and teased a rough spot.
“Fuck, you’re tight…” he growled. “Think you can fit me in this tiny pussy, Kiss?”
“Oh, my god…” I gripped the bed. Nothing had ever felt like this before.
Jack laughed as my body clenched him harder. My hips bucked. God, he was killing me. My hands ached to feel more than the sheets. I had to touch him, and not just his shoulders or teasing through his hair. I hadn’t seen the trouble he packed between his legs yet.
I deserved to know what would thoroughly destroy me when he finally took me for his own.
I whimpered, a combination of my own desire and timid curiosity. “Can I taste you?”
Those were the words Jack “Play-Maker” Carson lived to hear. He groaned as he pulled from my slit, but he moved fast. His pants kicked away, and he unleashed exactly what my body craved.
His cock jutted from between his legs. Proud. Impressive.
Almost frightening.
The tattoos on his chest didn’t end at his hips. They wrapped around, coiled him in bands of color and words. The tribal markings swirled over his waist and edged angrily, deliberately, around his cock.
God, what kind of man would risk a tattoo so near there?
What man actually wanted a tattoo so close to that sensitive area?
I knew that answer. The only man who would tattoo his cock was the playboy who planned to show it off.
That meant I was probably in trouble.
I was starting to like trouble.
Jack gripped me, tossing me over his body as he rested on the bed. He aimed me for that pulsing, thickening cock as my legs straddled his head. My stomach flipped. I never exposed myself like that before.
My fears dissolved as soon as his mouth regained his conquering of my slit. He seized my clit and enslaved me with his tongue.
My body jerked and shook and sweated. His thick cock hardened just for me. I captured it with a tentative hand, wrapping my fingers around the solid base. There was no way he’d fit this inside me. His cock was too big, almost villainous and intimidating. I could only imagine how full I’d be once it slid into my core.
Forced inside me.
Rutted through me.
I groaned and ran my tongue along the hot flesh, tracing a thick, pulsing vein and earning his gratitude. The muffled growl vibrated between my legs. His tongue slipped inside as the head of his cock popped into my mouth. The salty skin drove me wild, and I moaned like a wanton little whore over the taste of his cock.
Masculine. Clean.
Delicious.
What should have scared me only turned me on. I loved the weight of his cock in my hand, the heat, the unbelievable size. I’d savor every inch in my mouth if only to prepare my body to take the same inside my pussy.
Bare.
“Fuck, Kiss.” His whisper enthralled me. “Holy shit. Suck me like that.”
His tongue worshiped me, scorching the delicate skin with the rasp of his breath and tying me into a knot of absolute need. I took as much of his cock into my mouth as I could. It prevented me from begging. He promised my clit the same pleasure as I whispered to his heated shaft.
I couldn’t hold back. His hardness and heat stole my mind, and the vulgarity of exposing my most intimate secrets to him overwhelmed what remained. My orgasm crested violently, as if he had struck me. I swallowed his cock and muted my cry with his thick flesh. The swirls of his tongue delivered me to a perfect agony. He suckled my clit and prepared me for the thrill of something far better.
I cried his name. He couldn’t hear me with my mouth stuffed full of cock. It was the most gratuitous, most sinful thing I’d ever done, and I came again and again at his will, because of his lips, in praise of his tongue.