18. Jasmine #2
“ Kiss me, ” I whisper, voice cracked and soaked in want. “Landon… kiss me.”
His head lifts slowly. His eyes meet mine.
And everything breaks.
His lips crash into mine, hungry and possessive, and I gasp into his mouth.
His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.
I can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my tank top, the way his sweatpants cling to his hips, leaving little to the imagination.
My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl, a low, feral sound that sends a shiver down my spine.
“You’ve been teasing me since the moment we met, Peach,” he murmurs against my lips, his breath hot and uneven.
His hands slide down to my thighs, lifting me effortlessly onto the counter.
The cool surface bites into my skin, a sharp contrast to the fire burning inside me.
His lips trail down my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks I know I’ll feel tomorrow. “I’m done playing nice.”
I arch into him, my body already desperate for more. “Then stop being nice,” I dare him, my voice trembling with need.
His eyes darken, and he steps between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my sleep shorts down to my ankles.
The air hits my bare skin, and I feel exposed, vulnerable, but it only makes me throb harder.
His gaze locks onto mine as he kneels before me, his hands spreading my thighs wide.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his breath hot against my core. His tongue darts out, a slow, teasing lick that has me gasping, my hands gripping the edge of the counter for support. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, my hips bucking as he laps at me again, his tongue firm and relentless.
My head falls back, a moan tearing from my throat as he devours me like a man starved.
His hands grip my thighs, holding me open as he feasts on me, each lick sending sparks through my body. Oh god, he’s so good at this.
He pulls back just enough to look up at me, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me how much you want this,” he demands, his voice rough.
“Please, Landon,” I beg, my voice breaking. “I need you. I need you to make me cum.”
His grin is wicked as he dives back in, his tongue plunging into me with a ferocity that has my back arching off the counter.
He’s relentless, swirling and sucking, his fingers joining in, teasing my clit with just the right amount of pressure.
My moans echo through the kitchen, loud and shameless, as I let myself fall apart under his touch.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his words muffled against my skin. “Let me hear you. Let me taste how much you want me.”
My thighs tremble as his fingers curl inside me, hitting that spot that makes me see stars.
His tongue is relentless, driving me closer and closer to the edge.
I’m so close, so fucking close, and then he sucks my clit into his mouth, and I shatter.
My entire body convulses, a scream tearing from my throat as pleasure surges through me, wave after wave, until I’m gasping for air, my legs shaking uncontrollably.
Landon pulls back, his lips glistening, his eyes blazing with satisfaction. “You taste like fucking heaven,” he says, his voice rough. He stands, towering over me, his cock straining against his sweatpants. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
Before I can catch my breath, he’s flipping me around, my chest pressing against the counter as he pushes me forward, my ass in the air.
His hands grip my hips, and I feel the fabric of his sweatpants brush against my thighs as he pulls them down.
I look over my shoulder, because the temptation to see him, and I mean all of him, has me practically shaking.
His cock springs free, thick and hard, and I whimper at the sight of it.
“You’re going to take every inch of me,” he growls, his voice low and commanding. He slides the head of his cock through my slick folds, teasing me, driving me wild. “You’re going to scream my name again before I’m done with you.”
“Please,” I beg, my voice trembling. “I need you inside me.”
He doesn’t make me wait. He thrusts into me in one smooth motion, filling me completely, and I cry out, my nails digging into the counter.
He’s so big, so fucking deep, and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
His hands grip my hips as he sets a brutal pace, each thrust driving me closer to the edge again.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice strained. “So tight, so fucking wet for me. Is this what you wanted, Peach? To be fucked like this?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my body trembling with each thrust. “Please, don’t stop. Please, Landon, don’t stop.”
He slaps my ass, the sting only heightening the pleasure coursing through me. “You take me so well,” he growls, his hands gripping my hips tighter as he fucks me harder, faster. “You’re mine, Peach. Mine to fuck, mine to use.”
My moans grow louder, my body arching as he hits that spot inside me that makes me see stars. He’s relentless, his cock slamming into me with a force that has me screaming his name, over and over again, until I’m trembling on the edge of another orgasm.
“Cum for me,” he demands, his voice rough and commanding. “Cum on my cock, Peach. Let me feel you.”
I can’t hold back. My body convulses as I cum hard, my walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper. He growls, his pace faltering as he follows me over the edge, his cock pulsing inside me as he spills himself deep within.
He collapses against me, his breath hot against my back, his hands still gripping my hips. “Perfect Peach,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied. “You took me so fucking well.”
I’m still trembling, my body spent, but the way he says it, the possessive edge in his voice, sends a shiver down my spine. He pulls out slowly, and I whimper at the loss, my legs trembling as I try to stay upright.
He turns me around, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he looks down at me. “You’re mine, Jasmine,” he says, his voice firm. “And I’m not done with you yet.”
My breath catches as he leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Next time,” he growls, “I’m going to make you scream even louder.”
He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. My back hits the fridge with a soft thud as his hands grip my thighs, his mouth devouring the space between my jaw and shoulder with a hunger that makes my toes curl.
“Actually,” he mutters against my skin, “I’m going to do that right now.”
“Landon—” I gasp, half-laughing, half-melting. “I don’t think?—”
“No,” he growls, nipping the underside of my jaw. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and cum as many times as I want.”
The heat in his voice sends a spark of electricity across my skin. I whimper, caught somewhere between breathless and hysterical, my hands fisting the back of his messy hair just as he starts walking us toward his room like a man with a mission.
We don’t make it far. My phone rings.
It vibrates on the kitchen table—and we both pause. His lips are on my throat, kissing up the side like he has no intention of letting go, as he paces us backwards to where the phone sits.
I fumble for the phone, swiping it off the counter as Landon grumbles in my ear. “Whoever is calling better have a damn good reason, because I swear?—”
I answer without checking the caller ID, still giggling as Landon’s nose grazes the curve of my neck. “Hello?”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end.
Then: “Hey… it’s me.”
I blink, instantly sobering. “Cast?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Are you home right now?”
My brows pull together. “Yeah, why? You sound weird.”
Another pause. I hear something in the background—maybe a door closing, maybe nothing. He exhales hard, like he’s bracing himself.
“You’re gonna want to sit down for this.”
My blood turns to ice.
I pale instantly, heart kicking hard against my ribs as I slide out of Landon’s arms, my back hitting the fridge for support. “What’s wrong? Is Willow okay?”
“No—she’s fine,” Cast rushes to say. “It’s not Willow.”
“Then what is it?” My voice cracks. “Cast, what?—”
“There’s no easy way to say this,” he cuts in quietly.
A long silence.
Then: “Tommy’s dead.”