Chapter 9
Nine
Marie
I’ve lost my mind.
I know that.
But I don’t care.
He’s strong and beautiful, and his body feels fucking great pressing into mine.
And his hair is silky soft and his smile is intoxicating and…it’s been so damned long since I’ve allowed myself to have a moment like this.
Luckily, my words have their desired effect.
One big palm settles heavily on my hip, slides up my side, dragging the fabric of my hood and tank top with it.
But when the material bunches up just beneath my breasts, he stops, brows flicking up. “No pants and no bra?”
I shrug as well as I’m able, considering I’m laying down and he’s pinning me in place. “The bra seemed unnecessary considering the hoodie.”
“And the pants?”
“Like I said, I checked out my apartment, they got wet, and…”
“You slipped in here to creep on me.”
He’s not wrong.
I’ll also never admit that, not even under pain of death.
“I thought we were going to fuck.”
His lips twitch. “Maybe I need a little romance, cookie.”
Dammit.
Why does he have to be funny?
And nice. And have the ability to save the day by turning off the water and getting management to immediately bring in the abatement crew.
I can’t think about that.
Any of it.
So, I reach for my hoodie, my tank, and I yank them up and over my head.
Leaving me in just my underwear.
His big body jerks, and heat blooms in my belly. Because his eyes…holy hell, they’re blazing as they drag along my front, up, up, up to meet mine. Where they burn with need. For me. “Gorgeous,” he murmurs, that hand settling on my side again.
I jump, arching into his touch, lips parting on a sigh when his slightly roughened fingertips trace lightly up my torso, pausing just beneath my breasts.
They ache for him, my nipples hardened buds that call for his fingers and mouth, his lips and tongue and teeth.
But he doesn’t give that to me.
Not yet.
Instead, it’s just lazy patterns, light touches, delicate strokes.
“In a hurry, cookie?” he teases when my hips buck, seeking purchase.
“Yes,” I snap. “For an orgasm. Think you can manage that?”
His hand flattens just beneath one breast, his mouth hitches up at one corner. “And to think,” he drawls, “she hasn’t even kissed me yet.”
“If you weren’t so handsome, I’d slap that smug look off your face.”
He just grins, that smug smile growing. “If you did, then you wouldn’t get this .” He settles his pelvis against mine and I gasp as the hard edge of his erection presses against me, hips bucking, neck arching, lips parting?—
Something he takes advantage of.
He drops his mouth to mine.
Now I’m not gasping. I’m moaning.
Because the man can kiss .
He gives no quarter, no mercy, just settles his mouth on mine and kisses me like I’m his last breath. His tongue delves deep, tangling with mine, lips working. His hand dives into my hair holding me in place while he plunders, his hips grinding against mine, his big body pressing me into the couch.
That’s good but?—
I hook a leg around his waist and we both groan.
Because, yeah, that’s better.
“Christ, gorgeous,” he mutters against my mouth. “You really are in a hurry, aren’t you?”
“I need a non-self-induced orgasm.” I hook my other leg around his hip, groan again as that becomes even better. “Like six months ago.”
He pauses in his movements, head rearing back. “Six months?”
“I’ve been busy,” I lie, grinding against him, already feeling those curls of pleasure crawling up and surrounding me.
“Hmm,” he murmurs.
My impatience begins to boil over. “Jace?”
“Hmm?”
“Am I going to need to find someone else?”
The question is barely out of my mouth before he stands up, and for one horrible second, I think he’s going to tell me to get on with that finding someone else.
But then he walks over to the desk and I hear a soft screech as he opens a drawer.
Frowning, I push up to sitting.
Then I see it.
And I grin.
“Well?” he asks.
“What?” I reply, eyebrows dragging together.
“You going to put it to good use?”
“The condom you just pulled out or the erection tenting your pants?”
He tugs off his shirt, tosses it to the side. “Both, cookie.” Then he shoves down his pants.
Heat rips through me because…
Sweet Christ.
His dick is magnificent.
Big and thick, the tip glistening with precum.
I want to drop to my knees and suck it deep. I want to wrap my hands around him and stroke until he comes apart for me. I want?—
He tears open the condom wrapper, rolls it down the hard length of his cock.
Then sits down in his desk chair.
“Come here, gorgeous,” he orders softly.
I melt, seriously melt, and it takes everything in me to push up to my feet, to not allow my knees to collapse as I walk over to him.
He’s magnificent, that muscular chest, his flat abs, his strong thighs…his big dick.
“Underwear off,” he rumbles when I come close, when I start to lift one leg.
Right.
I need to be naked too for this to work.
A push has them sailing to the floor.
He sucks in a breath and my gaze flies to his. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. “Every part of you.”
I step close, run my hand along his chest.
“Climb on,” he orders.
Yeah, I want to do that.
I clamber up onto his lap, legs straddling his, the head of his cock brushing against my pussy, sliding through the slick folds of my labia, notching at my entrance.
“Christ,” he mutters. “I haven’t even gotten to taste those tits yet.”
Desire ripples through me, soaking the head of his cock, and I slide down an inch without really meaning too.
Then, because that feels so good, I allow myself to drop another inch.
He curses.
I grin, take another inch. Then another and another.
Until I’ve taken all of him and our pelvises are pressed together and we’re both breathing heavily, sweat breaking out on our bodies.
“Fuck but you’ve got a great pussy, gorgeous.”
Surprise has laughter vibrating through me and we both groan.
Because that feels good.
No, because it feels fucking great .
Jace settles a hand on my cheek, his eyes burning into mine when he asks,
“Ready to get to work, cookie?”