28. Katy
Chapter twenty-eight
Katy
G iddy, I touch my fingertips to my lips. If I try hard enough, I can still feel Jay’s lips pressed against them. His lips are softer than I imagined, his tongue warmer and sweeter, his kiss firmer, more insistent. Possessive. Punishing, even. The most powerful kiss I’ve ever experienced.
And all before any clothes came off.
Once they did come off? Game over . Until then, I would’ve described Jay Bevan as tall, dark, and handsome, but without clothes, the truth was revealed. The man is ripped , years of working out and working hard leaving their glorious mark on his body. His gorgeous, strong, insanely talented body. Not just a skillful mouth, but hands to match—and don’t even get me started on what he’s packing below the belt.
I should be studying right now, but my body is betraying me, reminding me of all the times I came at Jay’s mercy, and all the ways he played my body like an entire orchestra. The way he lifted me effortlessly, the way I felt more with one single stroke of his tongue against mine than in any sexual encounter I’ve ever had before. The way he said the filthiest things, but held me so tenderly. The way he looked at me with such reverence, I thought my heart might explode.
And the way he did it all over again in the morning before he drove me home.
With a sigh, I flip my textbook back to the previous page—the page I scanned without taking anything in. I tap my pen against my lower lip as I force myself to read the words on the page. The ethics of counselling is just about as dry as it sounds, but I’m forcing myself through it regardless. The classes are already getting intense and in-depth, only a week into the course, with the promise of some hands-on shadowing experience in a clinical setting over the coming weeks. It’s simultaneously the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.
It’s been a challenge to return to a classroom, and to train myself back into an academic mindset. But it’s been fun, too. I’ve already learned so much, and so much more of Jay’s words and behaviour makes sense to me now. I feel closer to him. Not just physically, after Saturday night, but emotionally, too. I feel like I understand him better now.
I spend another two hours in the library preparing for a quiz and taking notes for an essay, before walking home. A familiar red Astra is parked on the road outside my house, and when I pass the large hedge on the boundary between my front path and the pavement, I see Jay sitting on my doorstep, skin glowing orange in the sunset light. His face breaks into a wide grin when he sees me.
“Hi, Princess.” He sweeps me into his arms, hesitantly holding me at a distance for just a second, silently asking for permission before dropping his head and pressing his lips to mine. A quiet whimper bubbles up from my throat as his tongue licks at the seam of my lips.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly, breaking the kiss. I fumble for my keys, almost dropping them as my hands shake. The effect this man has on me is unreal. He catches them and my hand, guiding it to the keyhole and steadying me as I open the door and lead him inside.
“I missed you yesterday,” he says nervously. “I-I hope that’s okay. I mean, I—we—”
He’s jittery, bouncing on his heels, eyes flitting from my face to the wall to his hands and back again. It’s adorable. We haven’t talked about Saturday night, or about Sunday morning, but his kiss on my doorstep says he doesn’t regret a thing. I put him out of his misery and push up onto my tiptoes, grabbing the back of his head and crashing my lips to his. He sighs a quiet moan against my lips and heat coils in my belly. I kick off my shoes, never breaking our connection.
“God, I’ve wanted to kiss you for so fucking long, Princess,” he says, finally breaking the kiss and gasping for air.
“Why didn’t you?”
“You know why.” His eyes darken, before he tilts his head and seals his lips to mine again. We’re still in my narrow hallway. I’m caged between Jay and the wall; he has one palm pressed against the plaster above my head and the other hand on my neck, his thumb tilting my chin up to meet his lips. When he squeezes lightly, I explode out of my skin. I’m everywhere at once: both in my body and outside of it, experiencing the kiss and simultaneously watching it from above. I’ve never known a kiss quite like it.
Jay adjusts his stance, widening his legs to bracket mine, and he brings his hand from the wall to the back of my head, angling it to deepen the kiss. His tongue sweeps past my teeth, exploring every corner of my mouth like new, uncharted territory. His mouth is warm and spicy; I slide my tongue against his and shudder at the gentle friction. He moans against my lips, and I whimper in response, kissing him hard until, desperate for air, I tear my lips away.
We lock eyes for a beat, and he stares directly into my soul.
“I can’t pretend anymore, Katy. Fuck rules. Fuck anyone else. This is you and me. Tell me you don’t feel it and I’ll walk away right now.”
“I feel it.”
“Thank fuck.”
His lips crash against mine again, hungry and punishing, and he walks me backwards into my living room, pushing me down onto the sofa. I shrug out of my jacket and toss it into a corner as his body comes to cover mine. We’re pressed together from our lips to our toes, and I can feel the hard ridge of his dick straining against his jeans. I wriggle experimentally before grinding against him, dragging a low growl from his throat as his hands roam my body, sliding beneath my shirt, fingers skimming my ribs before dipping into my bra.
“Here?” I tear my lips from his and turn my face away, gulping in a lungful of air. “Or bedroom?”
He lifts me easily, cradling me against his chest bridal-style and navigating the stairs with ease. I kick out a foot to direct him as he reaches the hallway at the top.
“Second door on the right.”
He kicks it open and drops me on the bed, before reaching behind his head and tugging at the collar of his T-shirt. He whips it off over his head and my mouth goes dry. I poke out my tongue to wet my lips. Fuck , that might be one of the sexiest things a man can do. Heat coils low in my belly, spreading through my limbs with an eager, fizzing sensation. He moves to his waist, unfastening his belt and popping the button on his jeans as I watch, entranced. He leaves his wallet and keys on my bedside table before the clothing falls to the floor at his feet.
“Am I the only one getting naked here?” Good god, yes, please. And let me watch.
“Depends,” I say with a coy smile. Jay raises an eyebrow, questioningly. “Are you gonna help me?”
He moves over me again, tugging at my T-shirt as I push my leggings and underwear down over my hips. He frees my arms before unfastening my bra and immediately dipping his head, licking a gentle line down the swell of my left breast and closing his lips around my nipple.
“Such perfect fucking tits, Princess,” he growls, releasing my nipple with a pop and shifting his attention to the other.
“Thanks,” I say cheekily, tipping my head back. “Ahh—I grew them myself.”
A deep chuckle falls from his lips, and I moan lowly as he leaves my breast and moves down my belly with hot, open-mouthed kisses. I’m dizzy with want, desperate to feel and touch, but he has me pinned with my arms above my head, still half-clothed, and when his mouth reaches the spot just above the apex of my thighs, my body reacts before my brain can. I buck my hips against him and he laughs again before sucking me into his mouth.
“Ahh— fuck —I want to touch you.”
“You’ll have to wait,” he growls against me. The vibration does all kinds of things to the warmth in my veins, and there’s a strange sensation of falling through my own body. I don’t want to wait.
“Who knew you were such a greedy little slut, Princess?” Jay lifts his head from me to catch my eye, a lazy grin spreading across his face. I hadn’t even realised I’d said the words out loud. He lifts off me just enough to let me move, and I rip my T-shirt over my head and kick out of my leggings, desperate to be as close to him as possible. Desperate to have him on every inch of my skin. I reach down to grab clumsily at the waistband of his underwear, still hugging his hips.
“Shut up and get naked,” I mutter, and he chuckles again. I’ve never laughed during sex before. I’ve never made someone laugh during sex. But it feels good, it feels right , because this is who we are. Jay makes me laugh, and I make him laugh, and this—this feels like something I could want in my life forever. I shift awkwardly, still beneath him, and force us both onto our sides, shuffling down until I’m eye-level with his dick, straining hard against his boxer briefs. It twitches with anticipation beneath my gaze.
“Who’s needy now, soldier?” I skim it with my fingers before pressing a palm against the fabric.
“Shut up and suck, Princess.”
I reach into his briefs and wrap my hand around his dick. I know I don’t have the world’s biggest hands, but they’re pretty averagely proportioned for the rest of me. Still, my fingers barely meet when I close my hand around his shaft, and I shudder, imagining it inside me. It already has been; he’s touched every inch of me already, but it still seems like a dream—a haze, the only part of which I remember is the way he made me come so hard I saw stars. I dip my head and open my mouth, running my tongue up and down the length of him before taking him deep, hollowing my cheeks and sucking.
“ Holy fuck , Princess.” His words come out slurred, almost drunkenly, and he wraps a handful of my hair around his fist. The gentle sting on my scalp sends shockwaves rippling across every inch of my skin. I focus on the task at hand, swirling my tongue over the velvety-soft skin, learning what makes Jay moan, what makes him curse out loud, what has him tightening his grip on my hair and pulling almost painfully as his whole body tenses.
His hips rock against my face as he fucks my mouth. I’m sucking him even deeper, truly testing the limits of no gag reflex when he groans loudly, a deep, guttural sound wrenched from deep in his throat.
“Get up,” he whispers hoarsely. I don’t release my suction until his fingers tangle in my hair again, tugging gently. “Princess, get up.”
His muscles are still trembling as he pulls me up to meet his eyes, lust-darkened with pupils blown wide. He presses his lips to mine as he rolls me onto my back, settling himself on top of me and kissing me hard. He holds me against him as we kiss, all tongues and sweat-slicked skin. It doesn’t take long before his thigh is between mine and I’m practically riding him from below, more turned on than I’ve ever been by just a kiss . His hips rock against me, his hard length pressing against my pelvis, and I slip my hand between us, wrapping it around his shaft again.
Jay doesn’t even break the kiss as he lifts to his knees, reaches for a condom and puts it on before settling himself between my thighs. One of his hands reaches down between my legs, teasing my entrance as he pulls back, dropping light, gentle kisses to my lips before looking directly into my face as he speaks.
“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, Princess.”
A thrill runs through me. The rumble of his low voice as his chest presses against mine is electrifying. “How’s that?”
“Thoroughly.” He seals his lips to mine again, kissing me hungrily. Our mouths battle, lips and tongues rubbing together with perfect synchronicity as he settles against my hips, guiding his length to my entrance and notching himself inside. I moan into the kiss as his first few inches enter me, reveling in the delicious stretch as he slowly pushes further.
“ God ,” I sigh, turning my head away and sucking in quick breaths. His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking hard against my skin. “God, you feel so fucking good.”
“Gonna fuck you good,” he says against my throat, rocking his hips forward until he bottoms out, fully seated inside me. “Jesus, fuck, Princess. So fucking hot. Fucking tight little cunt. Fucking perfect.”
I rock my hips up against him and we move together. His hands find their way to my head, one tangling in my hair and the other holding my throat as he kisses me hard. This is more— so much more—than anything I ever dared to imagine with Jay. It’s more than any man I’ve ever been with. And it’s effortless. There’s no awkward fumbling, no bumping noses or clashing teeth, no awkward hand placements. He’s neither afraid nor too eager with his hand on my throat; he applies exactly the right amount of pressure every time. In the past, boyfriends have refused to engage in breath play, or they’ve taken it too far, but Jay seems to know exactly what I like, and what I need, without even having to ask.
When the heat in my belly begins to unfurl and I moan against Jay’s mouth, his hand on my throat squeezes a little harder, just enough to leave me dizzy as I lock my ankles behind his hips and come with a loud groan. My entire body falls limp and boneless as his thrusts continue at a punishing pace, increasingly erratic, until he stiffens and I feel him spill into the condom before he collapses over me, rolling away quickly to avoid crushing me beneath his solid muscle.
“Thoroughly fucked,” I whisper between heavy breaths. My heart hammers against my ribs as I turn my head to look up at Jay, sucking in gulps of air as he comes down from his orgasm. His body is a work of fucking art. I drag my eyes down his torso, the inked biceps, the clearly defined abs that lead to that delicious cut at his hips.
The trail of dark hair from his navel to his groin. His proud dick, soft and spent, but still impressive. Long, lean legs with a thigh tattoo—because, could this man get any fucking sexier?—and lightly tanned skin, a combination of a decade or more in the Middle Eastern sun, and the golden glow inherited from his Mediterranean mother.
“I keep my promises, Princess.” He cracks open an eye and looks down at me with a lazy smile. “I’m never gonna do it halfway. You want me to fuck you, Princess, I’m gonna fuck you better than anyone ever has. You deserve nothing less.”
No one has ever promised me that before. If they had, I’m not sure I’d believe it. But when Jay reaches for me and tucks me against his chest, I believe every word.