Chapter 20
Sadie
After our tacos and talk, there was enough time to get the flowers, drop them off at the wedding coordinator and get cupcakes, or . . .
We chose option “or.”
Delivering the flowers was technically seamless, but waiting for someone to take the trays of bouquets and boutonnieres while Jamison kept meeting my gaze with promise made the waiting feel interminable.
By the time we made it to the elevator, I was practically feral. I wanted to mount him then and there. Grind my body against his. Touch him. Kiss him. Fuck him. I wanted to lose all sense of myself and exist in the sensations he drew from my body.
The doors closed, and he pinned me against the wall, his hands on my thigh and waist. I couldn’t touch enough of him. His clothes were in the way.
Public was in the way.
How was it possible to be this turned on and continue sustaining life? This level of horniness had to be a medical condition.
Our ascent stopped, and Jamison took a step back, tugging my dress down to cover my thighs again.
I tried to control my breathing, but it was pointless.
I was out of breath. Heaving in big gulps of air—I hoped I didn’t look like I’d just gotten my shit rocked in the elevator car but felt an undeniable thrill when I caught my reflection in the steel doors.
I looked exactly like my shit had been rocked.
In the hall, a family was disappearing back into their room a few feet away.
As soon as their door closed leaving Jamison and I alone again, he pulled me to his side.
Bending to kiss me, he half-carried me to his room.
The lock beeped and we mostly fell through the entry.
His hands moved up and under my skirt, and I arched my back pressing my ass into his palm.
My hands moved over the firm flesh of his stomach to his back drawing him closer.
The whole time we spoke in hungry noises: a moan, a whimper, a groan.
I undid the button of his pants and slipped my hand under the waistband to cup his hard cock through his boxer briefs. He rumbled a growl type of response that shot like lightning between my legs.
It was so much better to touch him knowing this wouldn’t be the last time. To trust that this was exactly what we wanted. That I was who he wanted.
Dropping to my knees, I pushed his clothes to the floor. His erection stood, veiny and thick, inches from my mouth. He hissed in a breath between his teeth as I pumped him once. I loved how rock solid and heavy he was in my fist—the drip of cum that slipped from his tip to fall on my wrist.
He leaned on his forearm propped against the wall. With his jaw clenched, he stared down at me.
When I swiped my tongue around his head, his eyes squeezed shut.
But when I slipped him between my lips, he bit down on his knuckle and groaned so loudly it bounced off the walls of the tiny hallway leading into his room.
I moved up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper every time, until his head met the back of my throat.
I gagged a little, but I did it again. And again.
And again. Tears stung my eyes, and I’d have to pause to breathe soon, but I couldn’t get enough of the gasping sounds he made.
Or the way his fingers twitched in my hair.
“Fucking Christ,” he groaned. “I’m going to come down your fucking throat if you keep this up.”
I hummed, my lips spreading in a prideful smile around his shaft.
Spreading my knees a little wider, I slid my fingers under my panties.
I was so wet. With slick fingertips, I drew a circle around my clit needing to ease the swollen pressure.
My hips rocked as I fucked my own hand with him watching.
“Sadie.” His voice rasped on my name, like he was in pain.
I looked up at him through my watering eyes. The veins of his neck strained, and the knuckles of his fist were white.
“Is this how you want it?” he asked. “You want me to cum in your mouth while you’re fingering your clit?”
Pulling back, I let him fall from my mouth—his cock glistening with my spit. I shook my head, not able to form words in my lust-hungry mind while my fingers still worked my pussy.
He loosened his hold on my hair, and it was just then that I realized how hard he’d been pulling. “What do you want?”
“I want to ride you.”
His throat worked in a swallow. Stepping out of his pants, he left them in a pile on the floor. I took the hand he held out to me and followed him to the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head before laying down. He pulled a condom from the box on the bedside table.
“Do we need it?” I asked. “I’m on birth control and my checkup was free and clear a couple months ago. I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
“Really? What about the guy?”
For a second I was confused, before I remembered that he thought I had gotten my heart broken by someone who wasn’t him. I shook my head. “Just you.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since you either.”
My eyebrows shot up.
He chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not as much of a slut as everyone likes to think I am.”
“You’ve always been a bit of a slut with me.” I placed a knee on either side of his hips. Taking hold of his cock, I froze in shock when he gripped both of my thighs holding me in place.
“I want to,” he rasped, “but I’ve never fucked without a condom, and I don’t think I should make that decision when I’m this fucking hard.”
“Never?!”
“Again, with the shock.” He rolled his eyes.
“Sorry. I just . . . I mean it’s shocking.”
“Safe sex is important.”
“It is. And you’re right.” I plucked the wrapper from between his fingers and peeled it open. “We’ll talk about it when we’re not so . . . ”
His hold on my thighs loosened as I rolled the latex down his length. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” I leaned forward to kiss his lips.
I hooked my finger on the lace of my panties to shift them to the side.
My eyes fluttered closed as I took him inside of me.
The walls of my swollen pussy squeezing to make him fit.
I was still gathering myself as he started to move.
Stroking in and out of me. One of his hands squeezed my ass, moving me up and down.
A smacking sound punctuated each thrust, and I pushed on his chest shifting to an upright position.
He moved the strap down one of my shoulders exposing one of my boobs and cupping it.
Between his thumb and forefinger, he worked my sensitive nipple.
I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from crying out.
Propping up on an elbow, he placed his lips around my nipple, sucking hard.
The scrape of his teeth and the flick of his tongue quieting all of my thoughts and heightening all of my feelings.
I continued to ride him, taking him as deeply as I could.
In my release, I wanted to surrender entirely to the urge to cling to every sensation as if it could be the last. To let them wash over me, crashing like the waves on the rocky shore. Let them carry out with the current all of the ways I’d held back.
This wasn’t the last time.
But holding on had become my baseline, so I did while telling myself it was okay. I’d let it all go in pieces—scatter my reservations slowly.
Watching Jamison fall back onto the bed, his arms flung out on each side, I comforted myself that at least, for the first time, I knew we were on the same page.