Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Jacob
I HOLD SETH AS tightly as I dare. Because this time, when his lips finally meet mine, I’m not letting him slip away.
I nearly lose my resolve when his mouth presses firmly against mine. The kiss sucks the breath from my lungs, and suddenly I’m holding on not to keep him in place but to keep myself upright. As though sensing this, Seth slides a hand around my waist, steadying me with firm pressure at the small of my back.
My body blazes.
He isn’t breaking the kiss. He isn’t pulling away. I shut my eyes and drink him in, savoring the taste of his mouth, the scratch of his beard against my skin, that hand on my back. It’s warm, even through my clothing, and I unconsciously tilt my hips forward looking for more.
At last, we part, but Seth doesn’t run away. He stays there holding me, lips parted, eyes flickering back and forth over my face. I untangle my fingers from his shirt and throw my arms around his neck.
“Take me to bed,” I say. “Please, Seth.”
His beat of hesitation coils through me like a fist squeezing my insides. The anticipation borders on unbearable now that I’ve got him in my arms at last.
“This is wrong,” he says. “I’m your bodyguard.”
“I don’t care.”
“I can’t protect you if I’m … compromised. Involved. I won’t be able to make rational decisions in the moment. I’ll be biased.”
I card my fingers through his hair. “You’re already biased, Seth.”
His throat bobs. His eyes keep flickering, like he’s scanning a room for threats and exits. The only threat here is his stubborn self-denial. Slowly, fissures crack his stony expression, offering me a peek at the uncertainty lurking beneath the stoic surface.
“I am,” he says, quiet, like he’s admitting it to himself for the first time.
The dam breaks. He slams his mouth against mine. I murmur in surprise and delight, but I barely get a moment to kiss him back before his hands are under my thighs, hiking me onto his waist. I wrap my legs around him, hooking my ankles together as he carries me to the bed. His powerful arms make me feel as light as air. He could hold me this way for days and never get tired. My whole body thrills at the idea, my cock straining inside jeans that are suddenly way too tight.
His arms flex, muscle bulging, as he sets me gingerly on his bed, like he’s afraid I might break. He braces himself over me, and I snatch at his shirt, pulling him roughly to my mouth. He may want to treat me like glass, but he’s wrong. I don’t care how much bigger than me he is. I’m more than capable of taking what I want.
A low groan rumbles through him as I lick my way into his mouth. His hips lower, and then I’m the one gasping as the hard, thick ridge of his cock presses against me through our clothes. Oh, he is definitely not keeping that from me, not anymore. Even dry humping fully clothed is providing my whirling imagination with images of his cock filling all sorts of other places.
I shove him away, but only so I can drag off that stupid black T-shirt he’s always wearing. I stop there, however, my brain grinding to a halt. That shirt of his always did cling to his body, painting a vivid picture of what lay beneath, but it’s one thing to get a suggestion and quite another to have the whole thing in front of me.
“What?” he says, and I realize I’ve been staring for way too long.
I shake myself, but my mouth went dry at the sight of the bulging muscle corded across his shoulders, the firm, hard swell of his pecs, the hair furring his chest and trailing down into his pants. It is simply so much man , and even as I swallow and attempt to recover, I flounder trying to put it all into words.
“Is something wrong?” he says.
“No,” I say quickly. “No, God, no. Not at all. You are…”
I trail off, lost for words at the feast before me, and I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. I go for his pants, but Seth takes my wrists and moves my arms above me, forcing me to look up into his eyes.
“That’s ridiculous,” he says, but I can see the smile trying to break through his stony facade. “Jacob, do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”
I blink, incapable of doing anything else. Thankfully, Seth doesn’t wait for verbal confirmation. He releases my wrists, and I leave my arms above my head where he placed them. Then he slowly pushes my shirt up, like he’s revealing a precious new painting by a master artist. Seth unwraps me like every new inch of skin is a marvel, only setting his glasses aside when I’m bare to the waist.
His next kiss is slow and wondering, and it drips from my mouth down my neck, hot wax rolling down a melting candle. The heat seeps along the side of my throat, then onto my chest. All the while, I keep my arms over my head, my body long and exposed and vulnerable for him. Seth kisses across my chest, which is far smoother than his, and then down to my navel. His hands graze my sides as he goes, as though merely kissing me isn’t enough, as though he needs to soak me in through every point of contact he can find.
He glances up briefly when he reaches my waist, but apparently my panting is enough confirmation. Seth undoes my pants, and I sigh with relief as the pressure inside them relents. The respite only lasts a moment, however. The second he gets my pants off, Seth is on me, not rushing blindly for my cock, but instead continuing to paint that awe-struck trail of kisses down my body. He pays attention to everything. My hips, my thighs, a torturous little spot beside each knee that I never knew existed. He devours me with the attention and care he devotes to my safety when we’re in public, finding every nook and cranny of my body.
I clutch at whatever is behind me. Thankfully, there are gaps in his headboard, some sort of pattern of wooden bars. I cling to them, body twisting like I’m a bit of thread wrapped tighter and tighter until I snap.
I’m panting raggedly when he apparently completes his exploration and shuffles upward, planting his hands on either side of my hips. I draw trembling knees up on either side of him, prying my eyes open when I sense him pausing. I don’t find hesitation, however; he’s watching me, chest heaving and eyes intent, like the mere sight of me is enough for him.
Eyes locked with mine, he sets a hand under one knee, watching me as he kisses his way from knee to groin. He holds my gaze as long as he can, planting each kiss slowly and deliberately until my leg is literally shaking in his hold. Pre-cum beads my cock even though he hasn’t touched it, my entire body vibrating with need. Every scratch of his beard against my bare skin ignites new tremors, until I’m pretty sure I could come simply from him ordering me to.
“Jacob,” he says, like he’s testing the name.
Then, at last, he licks his way up my cock.
I squeeze my eyes shut and throw my head back, my whole body pushing at him as his tongue grazes my shaft. The wood of the headboard groans when Seth closes his lips around my head, lapping up the pre-cum and swirling his tongue around me. My teeth unclench in a burst of breath, my whole body shuddering as Seth satisfies the need he built so methodically inside me.
The leg he was holding ends up over his shoulder, my foot on his broad back as he sinks down me. A noise I barely recognize as myself squeezes out of me when his warm mouth engulfs me. My cock is aching , poised like a raindrop on the tip of a leaf.
Seth offers me no respite. He drags himself back up, slow, firm, his lips closed tightly around me. As he bobs, his beard scratches my thighs, a pleasant tingle that mixes with the barrage of heat building inside me. Every breath carries needy whimpers; I can’t seem to get enough air no matter how much I gasp. The tension buzzes inside me, and I squirm in search of relief. Seth doesn’t let me out of his grasp, however. His big hands hold my thighs, keeping me in place. My heel must be digging into his back with how my whole body tenses, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lets me writhe and groan and press myself desperately at him, patiently taking me deep into his mouth every time he bobs down me.
“God, God, I can’t hold it,” I moan.
He rumbles an assent that doesn’t make the situation any less precarious. The vibrations of his deep voice echo through me like an earthquake, shaking my foundations.
“Seth.” Christ, it feels good to have his name in my mouth, mangled with desire, spoken with all the heat and passion it deserves. “Seth, I can’t hold on much longer.”
In response, he pulls off me. One hand grabs me, stroking hard and fast. I don’t get a second to comprehend the shift. One moment, the heat of his mouth wraps around me; the next, it’s the firmness of his hand, moving faster than his head, devastating in its efficiency.
I arch toward him as a delirious orgasm slams into me. I feel like I’m trying to break my own back as I push up on my shoulder blades, color popping behind my eyelids while I gush over his hand and onto myself and probably onto him as well. I have no idea, but I can’t stop it from exploding out of me in wave after wave as Seth works me through it. His hand never leaves me, a steady anchor that eventually calls me back to myself after the flurry abates.
I crash onto the bed, filthy and panting, covered in cum and sweat. When I manage to open my eyes, I find Seth perched over me, watching me, his face unreadable. His hand is filthy, and I did, in fact, manage to hit his chest as well as my own, but he doesn’t seem to care. He just watches me, his eyes grazing my lips as I fight for a steady breath.
I know with sudden, urgent clarity that he’d let this night end this way. He’d perch there staring at me until I wanted to sleep, leaving himself unsatisfied, but there is absolutely no way I’m allowing that.
I drag him down to me for a kiss, but I have an ulterior motive here. I use my free hand to undo his jeans and fish around inside. He gasps, but so do I when I finally feel the cock that has been floating around in my imagination for weeks.
It is just as big as I imagined.
The thickness thrills me as I grab him. My exhaustion evaporates. I thumb over his cut tip, then pump my hand slowly along his thick, hot length. It’s not merely for him, though he groans as I touch him. Without the benefit of sight, I’m learning his cock by pure feel, and how it feels is, simply, fucking great .
He fills my hand, wonderfully girthy, rigid with veins. I stroke up and down, memorizing him, enjoying every second of feeling my way along him. We’re still kissing, sort of, though our mouths are open, both of us groaning. Our tongues play sloppily, lips smearing together almost accidentally. We gasp into each other’s mouths, sweaty, dirty chests pressed together as I stroke him as well as I can.
He shifts to give me more leverage, make the reach a bit easier, but it seems he wants his mouth against mine. That’s fine with me. I can jerk him and kiss him all at once. I want nothing more in this moment, in fact. It would help if he wasn’t quite so tall, but I’m resourceful and determined. I’m going to make this work.
Soon enough, his tip is wet. I drag that delicious bead along him, then thumb his tip, eager for more. Seth groans, teeth tugging at my lip as I toy with him. He starts working his hips, helping me by pushing himself at my fist. I slide my other hand up into his hair, grasping hard as the pressure mounts. He groans again, a reaction that shudders through me. Who knew a man so stern and aloof wanted his hair pulled this whole time? Fuck, if I knew it was that simple, I would have done it ages ago.
I tug hard, hoping to make up for lost time. Seth’s breathing wobbles, unsteady, broken, sheared like silk dragged over stone. His hips piston harder. My hand strokes faster. I don’t need his grunted, rumbled warning before his warmth spills over my hand and hits my torso, but I appreciate it anyway, if only because of the way it vibrates through me.
I stroke until he whimpers, then he collapses atop me, his weight pressing me into his bed. I loosen my grip on his hair, combing instead of pulling. Seth sighs, even more weight sagging onto me as he lets go at last. His face is buried against my shoulder, his body still as our skin cools.
Eventually, he pushes himself up enough to gaze down at me. The first thing he says is, “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head at him. “Seth, I wanted this so much for so long. You have no idea.”
He swallows. “I’m supposed to protect you.”
“You do,” I say. “You’re my knight in shining armor, remember?”
It’s supposed to be a joke, something to lighten this heavy air of guilt, but Seth grimaces. “Knights aren’t supposed to sleep with princes.”
Princes. Is that how he sees me? Some unattainable creature on high?
“I thought princes got to do whatever they wanted,” I say. “I thought they were the ones in charge. You can still be my knight in shining armor while sleeping with me.”
He doesn’t respond, and his silence wriggles a kernel of worry into my brain, but before the conversation can go any worse, Seth gets up, announcing he’s finding us a towel.
I sleep in his bed that night, my head on his broad chest, and I’ve never felt safer in my life.