Chapter 34 Nearly There #2
I pull open the drawer of the coffee table out here, snickering when I find a spare sketchbook and pencil inside.
Jessa’s predatory eyes track me with curiosity as I drag one of the wicker chairs next to it to the daybed.
The legs scratch over the floor noisily.
A devilish smirk grows on Jessa’s lips as I position it at the foot of the bed, and plop down.
The itch in my fingers is too strong to ignore. I flip open to a random blank page and start sketching. A graphite form takes shape, slowly. With each stroke of my pencil, I mirror Jessa’s lounging form, and generally mark out where I would be, still curled around her.
Glancing through my lashes, I take in the moonlight highlights on her skin, the shadows in the folds of fabric bunched around her waist, and the way her hand fists the blanket.
All the while Jessa stares back at me, heat blazing in those amber eyes.
The air is thick by the time I finish, flopping back in my chair.
“Okay. I’m done,” I say.
“You got what you needed for your gallery piece?”
I nod.
“Good, now do another,” Jessa says, sitting up.
Her demeanor changes, transforms—her dominance taking over the room. It’s like on the Fourth of July; it loosens my shoulders, allows me to let go of all my burdens, to breathe, as she holds them for me and leads.
“It’s hot watching you sketch,” she continues, whipping off her tank top and tossing it aside. “With your eyes focused all on me.” Next goes her shorts. She flings them across the room, and the jean smacks onto the floor. “You want to sleep with me, Alice? Then draw me first.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“What was that?” she teases, unclipping her bra and dropping it off the bed. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Okay,” I say louder.
“Good girl.” My core clenches at the praise, and I suck in a stuttered breath as Jessa leans back, shucking off her panties and baring herself to me. Her brown nipples firm to pointed peaks, and her pussy glistens, showing how much she enjoys this. “When you’re finished you can have your reward.”
My fingers tremble as I flip to a new page.
The pencil glides over the paper with a fury, my fast heartbeat setting a fervent pace.
Her body is divinely sculpted, strong and muscled from her training, but not bulky in the way Ori is; she’s all angular length when you break down her shapes.
Long legs and a shorter torso. A waist that doesn’t curve in like mine does before it flares out into wider hips. Hers are narrow.
Broad shoulders that can swing a heavy sword with ease. Confident hands that can draw out the most content of sighs with how they hold me. Soft lips that plunder mine like I was meant to be hers.
Jessa doesn’t touch herself as I draw, she only poses, still as a statue, and stares. Which is almost worse, because it feels so wrong—and so right—that she could elicit such desire in me from simply existing.
My thighs rub together, and the friction of my shorts and underwear on my clit helps to keep my need at bay as I add the final touches to my sketch.
“I’m done,” I say as I hold the sketchbook up, my chest heaving.
Jessa’s deviant grin grows. “Good girl.” She pats the space next to her. “Bring it here so I can have a closer look.”
I stand immediately, but she clicks her tongue.
“Uh-uh,” she tuts. “Crawl.”
I’m so aroused that I don’t give the command a second thought. Her silky voice is a siren’s call, and I’m caught under its thrall. Her pleasure at my obedience is clear as she drinks in my movements, crawling around her legs to kneel at her side.
“Here,” I say, handing it over.
Jessa doesn’t only glance at the drawing—she studies it. It makes my chest tight, knowing my art isn’t a gimmick for sex. She truly cares for everything I create.
“You are so fucking talented, it’s unreal,” she says, hushed and awed. “We should frame this and give it to Harley.”
I snort.
“I’m serious, he would love it.” She closes the sketchbook and sets it on the side table with our discarded wine glasses. “Come here.”
Her hand cradles my jaw, pulling my face to hers before sliding around my nape and anchoring there. Our lips tangle, and my heart skips at the familiarity of it all. Not with her—but with Ryan. How many times had he pulled me to him, just like this? Tenderly and hungry at the same time?
I melt into Jessa, open myself to her.
We kiss, the tension between us mounting as she strips me of my clothes. Soon, her hands find my hips and she guides me to straddle her thigh. The relief is immediate as she grinds me down on it. I’m already dripping from the build-up, and she groans as I mark her skin with my arousal.
She breaks our kiss to speak, but doesn’t stop her other ministrations, one hand coming up to roll my nipple between her fingers. “I wish I had my strap. I’d fuck you so good right now, Trouble.”
“Next time,” I murmur between our open-mouthed kisses. “Girl’s night should be a weekly thing.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.” Jessa chuckles, nipping at my jaw and down the column of my neck. “I guess for now I’ll settle for you riding my face. How does my tongue on your clit sound for your reward for being so good?”
“Fucking hell,” I mutter as her mouth latches onto my breast, tongue lashing my nipple. “I think that’d be satisfactory.”
Jessa’s velvety laugh fills me with warm joy before she kisses down my body, causing me to burn up from the inside. She maneuvers us so she’s flat on the daybed, and I’m kneeling above her face.
My fingers push her hair back, tender and loving, and her eyes sparkle with pride.
“Thank you.” The words tumble from my lips, sudden and breathless, and in awe of this moment. Yes, it’s sex, but there’s weight behind it. Emotion and connection that I’ve missed sharing with someone.
“Thank me by coming,” she says.
Then her tongue is licking long stripes across my core. And I forget about the world.
My eyes fall shut and I lose sense of time as she works me to my orgasm. Her tongue is different from Harley’s, rougher in its swipes across my clit, but no less pleasurable. It doesn’t take long for my hips to grind on her tongue of their own accord.
“Please, Jessa. Fuck, I’m so close.”
Her thumb joins the mix, rubbing consistent circles over my clit as her tongue dives into my core. The sensation is wildly different than what I’m used to and that, paired with the delicious bite of her nails digging into my ass, I’m pushed over the edge.
Jessa laps up my release as if its nectar, humming her approval.
I slide down her body, boneless and sated, and claim her lips. She tastes like me, and it’s filthy in the best way.
“You taste so sweet, Trouble,” she murmurs. “I could eat you all night.”