Chapter 34
34
HANNAH
Jack’s gaze became dark and predatory at my words. Words I couldn’t believe I said. He looked me over, every inch of me. As if he was making plans, maybe even a list of what he wanted to do.
“I’ve never had it like that, and I think I want it,” I added, suddenly worried I’d gone too far. “But–”
His eyes met mine, probably hearing the worry in my voice. Not about having sex with him. No. I wanted that.
“But what?”
“But I’m not good at it. At sex. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of it, and I probably won’t make it good for you.”
“Stop talking,” he snapped.
“Jack.”
“Stop talking or I’ve got something I can put in your mouth to quiet you.”
Oh my .
He closed his eyes and groaned, low and deep. “The fact that what I said turned you on shows that you’re going to like it just fine.”
“I didn’t… you know, please the guy. Kevin thought I was… fat.”
“You mean your cheating ex? The one who’s going to die, or at least be maimed for life.”
“Him and the guy from college.”
His jaw clenched and I’d upset him. I tried to squirm out from underneath him, but he lowered his weight onto me, enough to keep me from moving.
“Lemme guess. You didn’t come.”
I licked my lip and shook my head. “See? That means there’s something–”
“If you say something’s wrong with you, I’m going to flip you over and spank your ass.”
He studied my face for a second, then pushed off me. Before I knew what he planned, he’d flipped me, in a very unladylike manner, onto my stomach. His bed was huge and plush, the bedding as fancy and expensive as his SUV. I felt the cool air on my butt as he flipped the hem of my dress up.
A hand came down in a light swat on my upturned ass. The sound registered first, then the light sting. It didn’t really hurt and quickly morphed into heat.
“Jack!” I kicked my feet, but he was on his knees straddling my thighs.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, gorgeous.”
Swat.
“You’re not fat. Or overweight. Or any of those bullshit words. Those dipshits weren’t real men. A real man takes care of his woman.”
Swat.
“Ow! By spanking her?”
“If that’s what she needs. You said you wanted to be a bad girl. Well, bad girls like getting spanked. I bet your pussy’s dripping to prove it.”
His hand slid over my butt, then cupped me from behind. I startled, then moaned. I was wet still. No not still, but more.
His words, his actions, the spanking… I never knew. Read about and got turned on while doing it, but that had been in a book. This? Jack was very real.
“You came on my fingers in the library. You just came all over my face in my elevator. Your taste is on my fucking tongue.”
“But that wasn’t me satisfying you.”
Tucking an arm about my waist, he hoisted my hips up so I was on my knees, my cheek still pressed against what felt like three million thread count bedding.
“Oh my God, Jack, what are you–” He put his mouth on me. “OH MY GOD.”
I squirmed, definitely embarrassed that my butt was in the flipping air, and he not only saw everything, but licked it. Top to bottom, and by bottom, I meant bottom. “Jack!”
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, his breath fanning over my swollen flesh. Then his fingers slid over it. Traced it. Learned it.
“No.”
“Am I too rough?”
He’d been manhandling me, but he maneuvered me around easily enough and the spanking had been more of a scientific test of arousal and interest than discipline. And I asked for it because what I read of rough in romance books was something I craved.
Fiction and reality were two very different things when Jack was involved.
I squirmed because he was being too gentle now. His touch was so light I could barely stand it. I was so worked up from the elevator orgasm that I was close.
“No,” I replied.
“Good.”
“Shh. I’m not being rough.”
“But you’re–”
Perry was probably right. I was sinning hard core. And it felt so fucking good.
“In fact, I’m being very, very gentle.”
I whimpered, wiggled my butt, telling him I wanted more without saying it. Because if I did, what kind of woman did that make me? I needed his fingers in me like at the library. I needed something else in me. Big and hard. He had to be both.
“You still want rough?” he asked, kissing the back of my thigh.
“You’re not sticking anything in my butt without a shit ton of lube and a hell of a lot more foreplay.”
I felt him smile against my skin. “Noted, but that wasn’t what I was thinking.”
“Yes, I still want it rough.” I wanted it because he wasn’t doing anything except petting my pussy. I’d thought I couldn’t get any wetter, but I was practically dripping with need. I clenched in eagerness. “Yes, I want you to do unspeakably rude things to me.”
“Then we need a safeword.”
“A safeword?” What kind of rough did he have in mind?
“How about… trampoline?”
He was sweet and filthy. I couldn’t help but laugh into the bedding.
“Okay?”
“Yes. Just…. do something!”
“Yes, ma’am.”