17. Jude
JUDE
He kisses me again, swallowing down my whimper as I fist his shirt.
“Please, what?” he rasps, the deep gravel in his voice acting like a direct line to my pussy, telling it to soak my panties.
“I want you,” I murmur between kisses.
He stops to press his forehead against mine again, and I stare at him, panting. The war behind his eyes has me pulling his mouth back to mine before I wait to see which part of him will win.
He groans into our kiss, so I kiss him back even harder.
I need it to be this part. The part that kisses me like nothing else exists. The part that makes me feel more alive than anything ever has.
“Fuck,” he growls against my lips again.
I arch toward him, curling myself into him so my breasts squash against his chest. My nipples are so hard I know he’ll be able to feel them pushing into his skin.
It’s the final touch that obliterates any remaining barriers between us.
He throws me into his arms, holding me underneath my ass as he takes large strides, still kissing me. It’s only the sound of a door opening that breaks my lips from his so I can look at where we are.
It’s mine and Mel’s bungalow. He must have pushed me up against the side of it when he came storming back. I was so consumed by looking at him that I didn’t realize which direction we’d walked in.
He throws me on the bed, coming down over me with a deep curse as he crowds me with his giant frame. The sound of his zipper being torn down makes my pulse throb between my legs, and I pull my dress up, getting it out of his way as he shoves his cargo pants down.
He grabs my panties with rough, urgent fingers, dragging them down my thighs. They’re still hanging off one ankle as he thrusts inside me.
“Fuck!”
He holds himself deep as I pulse around him, my head thrown back with a gasp.
He’s so big and impossibly thick. But I’m so wet that my body accepts him with ease, begging to be filled by him again.
We’re skin to skin this time, and the metal piercings are pressing even more deliciously to the sensitive spots inside me.
He throws an arm out, slamming his palm flat against the wall above my head like he needs an outlet.
Then he thrusts in deep again, pinning me beneath him.
It isn’t an outlet for rage. It’s something to ground himself with so he can fuck me into the mattress with a force that could split me in half.
My mouth drops open with a throaty moan as his bicep expands and he braces himself against the wall, gripping my thigh with his other hand and holding my leg spread wide for him.
He fucks me with deep drives of his hips. Over and over. His piercings create a toe-curling friction as he pumps, and his balls hammer against my skin with each quickening stroke.
“You’re so wet,” he grits, driving in deeper.
“You feel so good,” I pant, widening my thighs as much as I can around his thick torso.
“Fuck,” he groans as he drills into me.
The bed frame sways. It’s a camp style one on four wooden legs, and each forward drive of his body into mine sets it moving like a ship on stormy seas.
“It’s going to break,” I moan as he delivers another deep thrust that has my eyes rolling in my head.
“Let. It. Fucking. Break.” Each word is delivered with a powerful thrust of his hips.
“Oh God,” I murmur, sinking my nails into his shoulders as he rails into me.
He fucks me harder.
It must be a front leg that buckles under his efforts, because the mattress lurches down and to one side, tilting my head lower than my feet.
He doesn’t stop, just replants his hand lower on the wall and continues to fuck me into another dimension.
“Jude, Jesus… fucking squeeze me again.”
My name groaned from his sinful lips like that as he pins his gaze on mine sends shockwaves through my body until they center and swirl around my clit.
He squeezes my thigh, then brings his thumb to his lips, sucking on it roughly. The second the warm pad, wet with his saliva, presses against my clit I convulse beneath him.
“Good girl. Come on my cock.”
I struggle to get a full lungful of air in as he rubs circles over my clit and pounds my pussy with determined thrusts. His muscular ass drives his hips forward with unwavering power. He really could fuck all night like this and not break a sweat.
The thought makes a fresh wave of slick arousal rush from me, lubing up his cock.
He grunts. “So damn good, aren’t you? Such a good girl that loves me fucking her, huh? You want to come all over my cock, don’t you?”
A whimper is all I can manage in response.
I gaze up into his intense stare. Nothing else matters in this moment. Not names. Not pasts.
Just two people needing something from one another.
Him. Me.
“I’m close,” I pant.
His jaw tightens. “Fuck yeah, you are. I can feel it.”
He never breaks pace, and I pant and writhe beneath him, being driven wild by his thumb strumming my clit and his cock pounding into me.
My core winds so tight that I start to tremble.
He juts his chin arrogantly, knowing this is all because of him.
“Good girl. Go on.”
I suck in a breath, my body climbing higher and higher. And as I crest on the top of a wave of indescribable pleasure, I cry out the one word that feels right.
“Slade!”
His eyes widen as I come beneath him, jerking around his body and whimpering as a rush of fluid spills from me.
I lift my hand to his face and palm his cheek.
The sudden flash of panic in his eyes morphs into ecstasy as his cock thickens inside me.
He comes with his eyes pinned to mine, lids falling heavy with lust as he spills inside me. Thrust after thrust empties more and more of him, while I mewl, clenching around him and inviting him to fill me with everything he possibly can.
His bicep ripples and he slows, still using the wall above my head as a way to bury himself as deep as he possibly can.
“Jude,” he utters, sucking in a ragged breath.
I pull his mouth to mine, kissing him with a breathless desperation as the bed collapses completely.
He jerks away like he’s worried about crushing me, so I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and bring him closer.
And I kiss him.
I keep kissing him until the tension leaves his shoulders and he sinks into me, cupping my face and murmuring my name against my lips.
Each slide of his lips over mine grows gentler, the same way it did after the first time in the dark. We slow down, moving softly like we have all the time in the world, our kisses transforming into the type of kisses two people who are desperately in love with one another would share.
Everything about him is so domineering and powerful. So intense.
But after…
After, it’s as if he just wants someone to hold him.
As if he needs to feel loved.