Chapter Seven #2
Well, holy shit. I didn't see that coming.
I honestly figured he'd keep refusing until hell froze over.
And honestly? I wouldn't have blamed him, not now that I know the reason.
I hope he changes his mind because he deserves to see that not every event ends that way, just as much as readers deserve a chance to meet him.
"Thank you," I say, trying not to make a big deal out of it so he doesn't change his mind.
"I still want that date."
"Um…no."
"Why the fuck not?"
"You mean aside from the fact that you had me arrested?" I arch a brow at him. "You don't even like me. And we'd probably end up killing each other."
He places his mug carefully on the island, then tugs his glasses off and sets them aside.
The look on his face screams trouble. When he takes a step toward me, I back up, but I'm already against the island.
There's nowhere for me to go unless I make a run for it.
And I may run from my problems, but I damn sure don't run from a man, not even one as gorgeous and infuriating as River Jamison.
"You think I don't like you?" he asks, prying the mug from my hand.
"You called me annoyingly persistent."
"You are annoyingly persistent," he growls, caging me in with his arms. "You're also fucking stunning.
You've got the smartest mouth and prettiest eyes I've ever seen.
You're passionate, intelligent, and funny.
You piss me off and turn me the fuck on at the same goddamn time.
" He dips his head, skimming his nose along my temple.
"And you've had me hard since you cornered me in the library. "
I lock my legs, trying to counteract the way they tremble. "Sexual attraction is not a solid foundation for a relationship, River."
"Yeah?" His breath blows hot against my ear. "Want to test that theory of yours, baby?"
"N-no."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying." I am totally lying. If I don't know what he feels like all over me soon, I may snap. But in the history of bad ideas, this is the worst.
"You melted for me on my porch the other day, princess. As soon as I touched you, you were desperate for more, weren't you?" he rasps, dragging his lips down the side of my throat.
I don't stop him. I just tip my head to the side, giving him better access.
"No," I lie.
He nips my skin, pulling it between his teeth. "Don't lie to me, Jasmine. You want me."
He's right, damn him. I do want him. For the last week, I've thought about little else except how much I want him. It's driving me insane. He is driving me insane.
Maybe that's the solution to my problem. We fuck, and then we can both move on. We don't have to get feelings involved. We can sleep together, just once, to get each other out of our systems, and then life will go back to normal.
"Fine," I groan, my hands clenched around the edge of the island. "Maybe I do want you. What are you going to do about it?"
"Depends," he says, nipping my throat again. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Me, preferably."
I feel his deep chuckle all the way to my core. And then his hands are on me, boosting me up onto the island. A second later, he's stepping between my legs, his mouth claiming mine.
If I thought he kissed me the other day, I was wrong. This is a kiss.
His hand tangles in my hair, craning my head back.
His lips crash against mine, his tongue flicking against the seam of my lips.
He kisses me so hard I forget to breathe, his mouth devouring mine with this wild hunger, like the last three days have been as torturous for him as they have been for me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him closer. He tastes like coffee and mint, the combination hitting me deep in the stomach, right where I ache the most.
He grips my thighs and yanks me closer, the granite biting into the backs of my legs. The desperate little groan I choke out when his hands slide under my dress to squeeze my hips would be embarrassing if he weren't groaning the same damn way.
"Jesus, princess," he growls against my lips, playing with the band on my panties. His fingertips trace the elastic in maddening circles. "If you had any idea what I've been dreaming about…"
I think I do know. I've been having the same dreams.
I break the kiss, gasping, but he just drags his lips down my throat, pausing to bite this spot that makes my whole body tremble. His other hand tightens in my hair, tugging my head back so I'm completely open to him.
"River," I manage to pant, my voice shaking, my legs spread wide against his hips.
He nips my collarbone, then grins against my skin. "Nu uh, baby. Not until you're dripping for me."
If he thinks I'm not already, he's wrong. I'm so wet, it's ridiculous. And so turned on, I'm ready to explode.
"Please," I groan.
"You're so sweet when you want to come," he hums against my skin.
"And you're an ass when you won't let me."
His teeth sink into the side of my throat in a punishing bite I feel against my clit. My hips lift from the island before he drives them right back down, forcing me to stillness beneath him.
I want to grab him by the hair and drag his mouth to mine, but his eyes are fixed on me, daring me to move first, and I can't—I won't.
This doesn't feel like a battle, though. It doesn't feel like surrender, either. It feels dangerously, wildly addictive. That should probably terrify me, but with his hands on my body, I'm not afraid. I'm just here with him.
Maybe that's what makes it so dangerous. He's slipping past my defenses, silencing the alarm bells that should be ringing to warn me away. And I'm not doing a damn thing to stop him.
His hand slips beneath the band of my panties, sliding downward. "Just checking to see if you're dripping for me yet," the arrogant bastard murmurs as he presses two fingers to my slit. There's no teasing, just the heat of his skin and the shocking rightness of him touching me.
I gasp, my back arching.
His eyes go dark as he feels how wet I am. "Goddamn, Jasmine," he rasps. "How long have you been like this for me?"
"Days," I whisper, unable to keep the truth to myself. I think I want him to know that, while he's been here, I've been across town, dripping wet for him.
His whole body shudders, his lips curving in a pleased, feral smile.
He presses his thumb to my clit, circling it once, twice, until my hips jerk in his grip.
Each pass is torturous, and he knows it.
He watches my face the whole time, cataloging every shaking breath and every little moan I can't hold back.
"Spread your legs for me," he says, his voice tight. "Let me see you."
I'm already spread wide, but I open further, my thighs trembling. He flicks my panties to the side, exposing me completely, and I almost lose it right then. His eyes lock on my pussy, a growl rumbling from his lips.
"Christ, look how pretty."
He runs a finger along my slit, then slides it inside me, curling it just right. The sensation is so intense I whimper, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick granite.
He thrusts, slow at first, then faster, his thumb never leaving my clit.
I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can do is clutch his wrist and ride the waves he sends through me.
There are so damn many of them, threatening to rip me apart and make me something else entirely.
He isn't even inside me yet, and he's already changing my whole damn world, just flipping it upside down.
"River," I pant, my voice breaking.
"Come for me," he commands. "Let me feel it."
I shatter with a cry, clenching around his fingers. My whole body shakes, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps working me until I collapse against his chest, gasping for breath.
Before I can even come down, he lays me back on the island, his hands supporting my weight so I don't crack my skull on the marble. As soon as I'm settled, he bends, burying his face in my pussy.
I nearly scream from the overstimulation. It's too much and not enough at the same time, but I don't want him to stop.
He licks and sucks, then flicks my clit with his tongue in relentless circles. He wants me to come again, and he isn't going to stop until I do.
"Come on my face, princess," he murmurs. "Let me taste your pleasure."
I lose it, my hands flying to his hair, gripping tight as I grind against his mouth. He groans, the vibration sending me over the edge a second time.
When he finally pulls away, his lips are wet with me, his eyes wild. He straightens, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and grins down at me.
"I want to feel that on my cock," he says, his voice a gritty rasp. But there's a question there, too. Like he's asking for permission.
"What's stopping you?" I ask, spreading my legs wider, daring him to do something about it.
He doesn't hesitate to accept the dare.
He rips my panties in his haste to get them off, then yanks his sweats down. His cock springs free, thick, long, and so hard it bobs against his stomach. My mouth waters at the sight of him.
He wraps a fist around himself, stroking slow, then fast, his eyes locked on mine the whole time. "You see what you do to me?" he rasps. "You're the reason I'm this fucking hard. I've been jerking off for days, thinking about you. It's not enough, princess. I need to feel you wrapped around me."
The idea of him, alone, desperate, stroking himself to thoughts of me, makes my whole body clench. I want him inside me so badly I could die.
"Then get inside me," I beg, unable to hide the desperate, greedy whimper in my voice.
He steps toward me, then pauses with a groan. "I don't have a condom."
"I'm on birth control." The words leave my lips before I can stop them. They aren't rational. They aren't even sane. But…I don't take them back, either. I want him inside me, not in a condom, but in me.
His eyes go wild as he yanks me to the edge of the island.
"Good," he growls, lining up at my entrance, the blunt head of his cock already beaded with precum.
He leans over me, bracing one arm on the counter, the other sliding up my body to grasp my breast through the fabric of my dress.
He squeezes, then leans down and bites my nipple through the material, sending a jolt straight to my clit.
"River," I groan, my back arching.
"Hold onto me," he orders, twining our fingers together. His lips find mine, his kiss deep and punishing, as he pushes forward, splitting me open.
The stretch burns and aches, but I want all of it, every perfect inch.
I cling to his shoulders, my nails embedded in his skin, moaning. He doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, his cock throbbing inside me.
I buck my hips, wanting more, needing him to move, but he holds me down and just breathes with me for a second, our foreheads touching. I sob his name, so desperate it hurts, but he's a rock, refusing to give a single inch.
"Please," I beg, clawing at his shoulders.
"No."
"Please!"
"No," he says again, his voice soft. His hands run along my sides, his touch gentle. And damn him, but little by little, I melt. I stop fighting to control this. And I surrender.
"Good girl," he whispers when I finally settle beneath him, pressing his lips to my throat in a soft, sweet kiss. "You're so fucking perfect, Jasmine. Stop fighting and feel me, just like that."
I whimper in response, my insides all twisted up.
This is supposed to be fucking, but it feels like something else.
It's terrifying, and not nearly terrifying enough.
I don't know what he's doing to me, but I don't think I want him to stop doing it, either.
I just want to stay here like this, with him inside me, owning me.
He doesn't give me time to fully process the new shape of the world or the way he fits inside me, stretching and burning and making everything before this moment seem stupid and inconsequential. He starts to move, long and slow at first, like he's trying to ruin me.
Every thrust drags a broken sound from my lips. I try to remember that this is just sex, try to hold onto my grudge, but it's gone, burned out of me with every snap of his hips.
"Christ, princess. I could die happy right here," he groans.
I claw at him, sinking my nails into his back to leave marks for him to remember me by.
He hisses in my ear, then fucks me even harder. He's not gentle now. He's rough and wild and so fucking good I see stars.
"That's it, baby. Go wild for me," he growls. "Show me how deep you need me."
I bite his shoulder, and he slams into me, the island groaning beneath us. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking him in, desperate to keep him there.
He's so deep inside, it feels like he's splitting me open.
"Harder," I gasp, and he obliges, slamming in and out of me so rough I think he might break me. I want to be broken, want to have to crawl out of here on my hands and knees when it's over, want to know in my bones that he ruined me for anyone else.
He leans down, his hand circling my throat just enough to hold me in place as he bites my lower lip.
"You look so fucking beautiful on my cock," he growls, biting the side of my throat—hard and possessive.
The wave of pain and pleasure rips through me like a bomb. I come apart, screaming his name, my whole body convulsing beneath him.
"That's it. Come just like that." He grabs my ass and lifts me off the counter, fucking me deeper, harder, until his rhythm stutters, and I'm coming all over again.
He groans my name against my ear, and then I feel the heat and pulse of him coming inside me.
I shudder, clinging to him like I might drown.
We collapse together on the cold granite, panting and shaking.
I'm boneless, weightless, floating somewhere between bliss and disbelief.
My whole world is in pieces at my feet, splintered by him and the way he just fucked me.
By the way he's holding me right now, like I'm the most important thing in his world.
I don't know what to say, do, or feel. I just know that this was not supposed to happen.
And I think it's too late to take it back now.
Far, far too late. Because I am absolutely, one-hundred percent positive I'm never going to be able to look at River Jamison again without remembering the way I just screamed for him.
And I have a feeling he's going to make sure I remember it, every chance he gets.