Chapter 10 #2
He laughs again, and then his mouth is back on me, his tongue swirling around my clit as his fingers pump in and out. He doesn’t stop, even when the first wave of my orgasm hits like a freight train. He stays right where he is, holding me steady so I feel every single spark of the explosion.
I come with his name on my lips, my fingers tangled in his hair. And when he finally lifts his head, his smug expression should be annoying, but instead makes me want to pull him closer.
“We’re not done, Jer-bear.”
He shakes his head, his smile rueful. “I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning—”
“I have an IUD, but Jon still used a condom, so I’m good. He didn’t want to take chances or…”
I shake my head and wait for Jeremy to reply, wondering if he’s calculating the risk in the same way he would for a regular business deal.
“I got tested a few months ago,” he says after a long moment. “And haven’t been with anyone since.”
My breath, which is just starting to regulate, hitches again. This man, who could have anyone he wants, has been alone instead, worrying about his sister and trying to figure out how to do good in a world that expects the worst from him.
“Then stop talking and fuck me.”
He stands to strip off his clothes, and even though I’ve seen his chest before—glistening with saltwater while I pretended not to stare—this is different.
This time I can reach out and trace the defined muscles I’ve been obsessing over for days.
Feel the heat of his skin under my palms. There’s a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his pants. I want to follow it with my tongue.
And I plan to.
As soon as he’s naked, I draw him closer then push him to his back on the bed.
He groans when my mouth finds his hip bone, and I feel a surge of power that has nothing to do with money or status or the bullshit games I’m used to playing.
It’s just me and him, like this moment is the only thing in the world that matters.
I move lower, tracing my tongue along that thick cock before I finally take him into my mouth.
The sound he makes—a low, guttural vibration I feel everywhere—sends a thrill straight to my core.
I work him with a deliberate rhythm, my hands gripping his thighs as he tangles his fingers in my hair.
For a heartbeat, I want to raise up and fuse my mouth to his—taste myself on his lips—but I catch the urge and bury it.
“Fuck, Avah,” he whispers, his voice ragged. “If you keep that up, we’re not going to get to the main show.”
“I like this show,” I counter, but he laughs and lifts me by my arms until I’m straddling him.
Then he flips me over, cradling my face like he can’t stop holding on.
When he finally slides into my heat, it’s everything I knew it would be.
His cock stretches me, but instead of being uncomfortable, it feels like coming home.
His eyes search mine as he waits for me to adjust, then he lowers his head until there’s nothing but a whispered breath between our mouths.
“No kissing.” The words were easy when I first spoke them, but they feel wrong now.
I want his mouth on mine, but I tighten my grip on his shoulders instead.
If I let him kiss me, my walls are bound to disintegrate.
I won’t know where I end and he begins. I need this rule to keep myself grounded while he’s taking me apart.
His movements are deliberate and rhythmic at first, his forehead pressed against mine. It feels more intimate than any kiss I’ve ever had as he fills all the empty spaces inside me. Each time he pulls out is slow torture, but the sensation of him pushing back in is a revelation.
My nails dig into the hard muscles of his shoulders as our pace increases, the intensity of the grinding heat building in the base of my spine.
“Okay?” It sounds like the question costs him, but I also know he cares about the answer.
“More,” I breathe, closing my eyes as sensation spirals through me.
He’s happy to give it to me. His weight shifts as he lifts my wrists above my head. I let him hold me steady as he drives into me with a focus that makes the world tilt. The sound of our bodies meeting and a chorus of needy groans fills the room until I’m practically sobbing his name.
The pleasure builds and crests, and then I’m coming again with a cry I couldn’t hold back if I tried. He follows a moment later, his whole body shuddering as he buries his face in my neck. I feel him pulse inside me. And the way he moans my name is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
For a long moment, we breathe in sync, totally lost in the moment. When I start to untangle myself and reach for the edge of the bed, his hand closes around my wrist, gentle but firm.
“Stay.”
“Jeremy—”
“Just one night.” His voice is stripped of the control I’ve come to associate with him. “Please.”
Staying breaks other rules I’ve silently set for being with him. It’s supposed to be a way to reclaim my body from the memories of Jon’s hands. Nothing more. It shouldn’t mean anything about Jeremy and me.
But when I look at his face and see the vulnerability he’s not even trying to hide, I can’t make myself leave.
“One night,” I agree, and let him pull me close.
His strong arm wraps around me, and I press my face against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, slowing as his breathing evens out.
I lie awake for a long time after he falls asleep, trying to figure out what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.