Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ALLEY
I poke my tongue into the side of my cheek, trying to bait a laugh out of Jensen.
He just grins, slides two fingers to his mouth, and drags his tongue between them.
It’s hot—but I crack. Laughter bursts out of me, echoing through the elevator and earning a glare from the elderly couple in front of us.
I slap a hand over my mouth, but it’s useless.
Immature? Absolutely. But it’s our thing. It’s something we’ve always done—try to make each other laugh while in elevators with other people.
The doors slide open, and our laughter spills into the hallway of Matt’s complex.
Dinner with Michael and Dad was better than I could have imagined.
There was real laughter, forgiveness, even a few tears that felt more healing than painful.
For the first time in my adult life, I felt whole with my family.
My dad sober. Jensen clean. Both of them sitting at the table with me.
The only thing missing was Mom, and I like to think she was there anyway. She would’ve been proud.
“You better get that sweet ass inside before I tear your clothes off right here,” his voice booms behind me, low and warning.
I glance back, still trying to smother my laugh, finger to my lips. “Shh.”
The way he’s looking at me tells me shh isn’t happening.
He chuckles, following close behind. “That blow job move got me thinking all the dirty thoughts.”
“No!” I gasp in mock shock. “Dirty thoughts? You?”
His chuckle drops deep and wicked. “You better hurry inside. You’re about to get it like the good girls in your books do.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” I tease, grinning as I punch in the code.
The lock clicks, and Jensen leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “You should be.”
Shivers skate up my spine as the door swings open. “Behave yourself—we’re almost in.”
We barely make it through the door before Jensen’s arms wrap around me from behind, hauling me against him. His mouth skims my jaw, playful and teasing, before planting a kiss on the curve of my neck. “Thanks for a great day, babe.”
I spin, flattening my palms to his chest. “You’re welcome. Not every day you get to have awkward please-forgive-me dinners with your wife’s family.”
He grins, guiding me backward until my spine meets the wall. “Awkward for maybe five minutes. Michael was great. And your dad always is.”
“Still… thank you for coming. I know it probably wasn’t something you were looking forward to.”
His eyes lock on mine, steady and unflinching. “I look forward to everything with you. Plus, we basically scored a Michelin-star dinner for free.”
True. Michael’s restaurant earned its star a few months ago. It’s a huge achievement. “Well then, in that case, you’re welcome for such a fantastic evening.”
“It was fantastic.” His lips brush mine, taunting. “Guess I better repay you now.”
“It’s only fair. A little quid pro quo.”
His brow quirks. “Pretty sure that’s not how you use that term.”
I shrug, grinning. “Awkward family dinners, you pay me back in sexual services. Feels right to me.”
That smirk of his spreads wide. “Babe.” His finger presses to my lips. “Stop talking so I can fuck you.”
Then his mouth is on mine—hard and hot, swallowing any comeback I had left. Heat sparks low and spreads through every limb, leaving me turned on and already aching for more.
His lips move on mine with the perfect mix of push and pull, his tongue dipping in, teasing, reminding me exactly what it’s capable of. I picture it lower, between my thighs, and butterflies stir hard in my stomach.
His hand fists in my hair, tugging just enough to tip my head back. His lips trail up my jaw until they graze my ear. “Is your pussy wet for me?”
Good Lord.
It is now.
“Almost,” I lie, breathless.
His tongue flicks the shell of my ear. “Liar.” The husk in his voice vibrates down my spine. In a blur, my shirt’s gone, and his hands roam greedily across my bare skin.
“Take off your bra.”
I do what I’m told, letting it fall to the floor. I’ve always loved when Jensen slips into Dom mode, telling me what to do, getting a little rough. A soft rough.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice a slow stroke of heat.
Shit. My knees nearly buckle, a rush of need crashing through me at those two words. My body melts, limbs turning liquid, and I’m desperate—for his hands, his mouth, his skin, his voice. I need it all.
His hand palms my breast as mine slip under his shirt, roaming across his hard abs. My pulse races as I drift lower, but he catches my wrist, pulling it back to his chest. His mouth hovers by my ear. “Don’t move.”
I freeze, eyes falling shut, surrendering to the path of his touch. His lips trail down, kissing over my breasts, while his hands shove my pants down past my hips. Then he’s back at my mouth, hot and claiming.
I reach instinctively for his waistband, desperate to get him naked, but he grabs both wrists and pins them above my head, holding them with one hand. The strength in him only makes me surrender more. I don’t fight it. I don’t want to.
“I said don’t move.” His voice vibrates through me—dark velvet, rough. “And don’t you dare come. Not until I tell you to. You’re mine, baby.”
My pulse hammers in my head, breaths shallow. Holy shit. He always knows how to turn me on, but this is extra. So hot. Straight-out-of-a-book hot.
His free hand drops between my thighs, fingers teasing lightly, brushing maddening strokes over the fabric of my underwear, a wicked grin curving his mouth. I roll my bottom lip between my teeth, hips arching into his touch, searching for more pressure.
He chuckles. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
I shake my head as his fingers finally dip inside, sliding smoothly over my slit, stroking slow, lazy circles that have my knees going weak. He keeps his eyes on mine, watching every reaction.
One finger slips inside, then two, his thumb circling my clit.
“Oh, God,” I breathe. My head tips back on a gasp, and he releases my wrists, his hand gripping my jaw instantly, forcing my gaze to his.
“Eyes on me, baby.” The words melt through me, and before I can even draw another breath, he crushes his mouth to mine, claiming it with all the possessiveness of a man on a mission—a mission to wreck me completely.
A fire builds deep in my core, swirling hot, each thrust pressing deeper until my muscles clench tight around him, desperate for release.
“Come for me, baby. I want you dripping down my fingers.”
Jesus. The dirty talk is dialed in tonight, and it’s like my body was waiting for those words. Pleasure detonates, rushing through me in waves. He keeps his rhythm steady as I squeeze my eyes shut, pulsing around him, riding it out until I’m nothing but a breathless, trembling mess.
His touch slows, easing me down, and a smirk tugs at his mouth. “You ready to soak my cock with that sweet pussy?” he rasps.
Lordy. What the—? It clicks. The extra dirty talk. The possessiveness. My eyes fly open on a gasp. “Oh my God.” I meet his gaze, breathless, stunned. “You read my book!” A laugh slips out of me, helpless and disbelieving.
His grin is sinful, darkly amused. He presses his palm over my mouth, eyes glinting. “Shh.”
My laugh muffles against his hand. I can’t believe it. Don’t move. Don’t come until I say. Dripping. Soak my cock. Sweet pussy. Straight out of chapter thirty on my Kindle.
He leans in, voice low and taunting. “Maybe I just know exactly how to make that sweet pussy beg.”
He releases his hand, and I swat at him. “You’re such a jackass.”
“Yeah, but a jackass who’s crazy about you.” He steals a heated kiss, then pulls back, eyes serious now, thumb circling over my nipple. “You gonna be a good girl?”
I nod, my smile fading as his hand trails across my breast and down my stomach, then stops. He strokes and teases, fingertips brushing low—but not low enough.
“Good,” he murmurs, kissing me deep before hooking his fingers around my underwear, gripping tight. “Now let’s see how long you last this time.”
He drags the lace down slow, knuckles grazing my thighs, eyes locked on mine as he sinks to the floor. The heat in his gaze pins me in place, a silent promise, a claim I feel down to my bones.
A kiss lands on my thigh, scruff rasping across my skin. Then his tongue flicks my clit, quick, taunting.
“Wait, babe,” I gasp. “Let’s move to the couch.”
He doesn’t argue, just scoops me up in one effortless motion, pulling a squeal from my throat. “Jensen!”
He chuckles, strides to the couch, and drops me onto it.
A laugh bursts out of me, cut short when his body pins mine, lips scorching a path across my skin.
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, eyes dark with intent, and I fist his shirt, yanking him closer, desperate for more of him pressed against me.
I blink up at him, chest heaving. “Why aren’t you naked?
” He’s been wrecking me so thoroughly I haven’t even touched him.
And now all I want is his skin on mine—his sculpted abs, that tattoo flexing on his bicep as he hovers over me.
I ache for this body. Ache to please him.
Ache to connect in a way I can’t with anyone else.
My fingers trail down his abdomen. “Take your clothes off,” I whisper between kisses, tugging at his shirt. He yanks it over his head and tosses it aside.
God, he’s incredible. My hands grip his shoulders, nails dragging down his skin. “You’re so fucking hot, babe.” I flatten my palm over his chest and slide it lower, pressing against the bulge in his pants. “You do things to me I can’t explain.”
His groan rumbles deep. “Fuck, baby. You trying to make me lose control?”
I fumble with his button until it pops, then tug the zipper down. “Take these off,” I demand, shoving at his pants with one hand.
He props himself on one forearm, shoving his pants and underwear down.
Then lowers himself between my thighs again, but I press at his chest. “No. Sit up,” I breathe, my pulse racing.
He’s been worshipping me all night, breaking me apart, and I can’t take another second without giving something back.
He obeys, settling back. I swing over, straddling him, nails scraping lightly down his chest. “My turn,” I whisper against his ear. Before he can argue, I slide down his body, knees sinking into the carpet.
His cock stands thick and hard, already leaking. Heat pulses low, my thighs clenching, and the ache to please him burns deep and insistent. I lick my lips, desperate to make him unravel the way he’s been unraveling me.
He rakes a hand through his hair and leans back, that sinful Jensen smirk tugging at his mouth.
God, I love this man.
I take my time, building it up—kissing his thighs, his hips, every line of muscle, my fingers tracing close behind. I flick my tongue over the tip, lapping at his precum, teasing. My mouth drags down the length of him, slow, deliberate, savoring every inch.
“Jesus Christ. You’re my fucking queen.”
My nails dig into his hips as I finally wrap my lips around the head, lowering down, torturously slow. I moan around him, letting him feel how much I love it—how much I love him. My hand slides lower, nails softly brushing his balls.
“God. You trying to kill me?” he rasps. “Feels so fucking good.”
I pull back with a wet pop, wrap my hand around him, and give one slow, deliberate stroke before swirling my tongue over the tip.
“Fuck…” he whispers, like a reverent prayer. His head falls back against the couch, one hand gripping my hair—not guiding, just holding on.
I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, thrilled at the twitch against my tongue, the way his breath roughens with every move. Another moan vibrates out of me, and his hips jerk, helpless, like he can’t stop himself.
“Jesus…” His voice breaks on a groan, ragged with pleasure. “You’re too good at this. I’m gonna come down your throat—and that’s not how I want to finish.”
He tugs my hair, gentle but firm, pulling me up. “C’mere, baby. I wanna come inside you.”
I straddle his lap, his cock hard against my entrance. His hands grip my ass, eyes dark and hungry. He drags my lips into his. It’s hot. Desperate. Devouring.
He thrusts up as I sink down, and we groan in unison—the stretch, the pressure, the way we fit together so perfectly.
“Fuck, yes,” he rasps against my mouth. “That’s it, Al. Ride me.”
His hands knead my ass, pushing me deeper, the friction intoxicating.
“Oh, God.” It slips out broken, a cry tangled in pleasure.
His mouth curves against mine. “I live for those sounds. So fucking hot.”
My body trembles as he drives harder, faster, rocking me into him, his mouth crashing back onto mine, swallowing every moan.
My head tips back, ready to come, but his hand cups the back of my head, bringing my gaze to his.
“I want to watch you come.”
The burn builds fast, pleasure winding me tight. I dig my nails into his shoulders, desperate, frantic, every nerve ending screaming.
“Jensen…” My voice is ragged, pleading.
“Come for me,” he grunts, driving deeper. “Soak my cock. Show me how good it feels.”
And God, do I show him. Pleasure rips through me, a guttural moan breaking free as I fall apart.
I fight to keep my gaze on his, but my vision blurs, stars sparking until my eyes roll back.
Each wave crashes harder than the last, leaving me trembling, clinging to him like he’s the only thing anchoring me to earth.
My thighs quiver, every nerve alive, carrying the bliss until I’m gasping his name.
He’s right there with me, thrusting harder, arms locking tight around me. His eyes squeeze shut, and a raw groan tears from his chest as his release overtakes him.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
He freezes, shuddering, before collapsing against the couch. I rest my forehead to his, and the world stills. Just him and me, breathing the same air.
A rush of emotion slams into me, stealing my breath. Tears sting before I can stop them, and I clutch him tighter, gasping for air.
“Shit, babe.” His hands comb through my hair. “You okay?”
I nod against him, a shaky smile breaking through the tears. My hand cups his neck, thumb brushing his skin. “Happy tears,” I whisper with a laugh-cry. “I just love you. I love you so much.”
His hands frame my face. “Look at me.”
I do.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you.”
All the feelings crash over me, too many to name. Pride. Relief. Joy so sharp it almost hurts.
He did it.
I did it.
Somehow, against all the odds, we did it.
We’re healing. Finding our way back. After everything, we keep choosing each other. Through the hard, through the ugly. We’re still here.
Maybe walking away would’ve been easier. Maybe it would’ve been harder. I’ll never know.
But what I do know is this—
We chose to stay.
To love each other anyway.