CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE #2
He moves to my other breast, lavishing it with the same rough tenderness. I arch up into him, pressing myself into his mouth, giving him full fucking control.
Heat spreads through me like liquid fire, and I tug against the belt. A sudden wave of pure ecstasy crashes over me. My muscles tighten. My breath catches. My toes curl. And my orgasm hits so fast, so hard, I tremble, his name the only word I can manage to say.
James’s lips leave my breast, and he looks at me, a curious spark in his eyes. “Did you just come?”
I blink, still floating, still shaking.
“I-I…” I stammer. My cheeks burn, and my limbs feel like jelly. Did I really just… from that? “Yeah.”
God. He’s barely gotten started, and I’m already a mess.
I don’t know if it was the belt on my wrists, the way he sucked on me, James’s heat, or all of it together, but I’ve never felt anything like that before.
I catch the admiration in his eyes, the way he lifts an eyebrow. That cocky smile is trying to break through.
“Fuck,” he breathes, shaking his head. “I need to tie you up more often.”
I laugh. He does too.
His hands glide over my thighs, squeezing, then spreading them wider. He lowers himself, mouth trailing down my stomach, taking his time, kissing the inside of my thigh, waking up nerves I didn’t even know existed.
Two fingers slip inside me, deep, curling, pressing.
My thighs tremble as he moves. And then he kisses me again, lower.
His tongue circles my clit. My back arches, my wrists straining against the belt holding me in place.
I can’t stop my hips from grinding against his mouth, chasing more, needing more.
James presses a hand across my stomach, pinning me down, holding me exactly where he wants me while he works me toward another orgasm.
“Outsider!”
He bites my inner thigh as a reward for calling him that.
If that leaves a scar, then it’s only fair I leave one on his shoulder later, if he ever unties me again. And judging by the dark in his eyes, that’s not happening anytime soon.
His fingers never stop.
In and out. In and out.
His eyes are locked on mine, watching every twitch of my body, every breath I suck in, like he needs to see exactly what he’s doing to me. It’s like he’s punishing me with pleasure for disobeying him back in Denver. If this is his way of punishing me, I’m gonna disobey him a lot more.
His other hand squeezes my breast again, firm and perfect, and I gasp, my mouth falling open. And then—God—he grazes my clit with his teeth, just enough to make me jolt, then soothes it with a slow, wet lick.
Each flick of his tongue, every suck and pull, the relentless way his fingers pump inside me—it’s too much, pushing me higher and higher. My orgasm builds like a storm in my belly.
But then his fingers slip out of me, and I cry out from the loss of them.
“Why did you stop?”
“This one,” he says, his voice low, rough, “I want to be inside you.”
I barely have time to catch my breath before he stands and unzips his jeans. The sound alone makes my pulse skyrocket.
I watch, still dazed, as he pushes his jeans and boxers to the tent floor.
My mouth waters. He’s so hard. So thick.
I part my legs a little wider, inviting him in. Begging without words.
“Untie me, James. I need to touch you.”
He laughs, still watching me.
“Laugh all you want,” I warn, “next time, I’m gonna tie you, and you’ll see.”
“That’s even hotter, little danger.”
Fuck, I love this man.
James drops back over me, his hands going straight for the belt around my wrists. He unties me quickly, like he can’t wait another second.
As soon as I’m free, I run my hands over his chest, his arms, his abs, desperate to touch him. To feel the raw strength beneath his skin that makes my whole body shiver.
I reach his left shoulder. No bruising. No bandage. It’s solid again.
His muscles flex under my fingers, and he lets out a sharp breath, his eyelids fluttering shut as he soaks in my touch.
And when his eyes meet mine again, the air shifts, charged with pure lust and longing.
Our mouths collide, and it’s not just a kiss—it’s fucking destruction.
Heat erupts between us like a bonfire, fast and uncontrollable. My pussy throbs against his thigh, and he rubs his growing erection against me.
I throw my head back as his lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck.
“Are you still taking the pill Lorelai gave you?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank fuck for that. I need to feel you. All of you.”
His hands squeeze my ass, pulling me so close there’s not even an inch of space between us. Then with one deep thrust, he pushes inside, stretching me.
I sigh, my fingers clutching his arms.
“You feel so good, Sarah.”
He starts to move, and I move too, rolling my hips, matching his rhythm. Each thrust is a shock of pleasure, deep and slow, then hard and fast. Perfect rhythm. Perfect pressure.
He bends his head and takes one of my already sensitive nipples into his mouth.
My back arches off the sleeping bag. “God!”
I look up at him, and my body burns hotter just from the sight. The way his biceps flex as he holds himself above me. The way his rock-hard abs tense with every thrust. He’s perfect. A living sculpture. A man made of strength.
I wrap my legs around his waist, locking him in as I pull him deeper.
A rough, guttural groan rumbles from his chest.
“So fucking mine.”
“Yours?” I lift a brow, teasing. “I don’t see your name on my skin.”
“Woman, I am inside you.”
I giggle, breathless, madly in love with this man.
We pick up the pace, his thrusts growing harder, and I just watch him—his beautiful face, those delicious lips, the intensity in his blue eyes.
James catches my gaze and holds it. Then he kisses me again, like his energy is infinite.
I feel so full, so overwhelmed by him, I can’t stop the loud moan that escapes when he hits just the right spot.
“James, I… God…” I bite his shoulder to muffle my scream.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his hands holding me steady, his thrusts wringing every drop of pleasure from me. “Let go for me.”
The hair on my arms stands on end, and I shatter, my body clenching around him as my eyes roll back.
I collapse back onto the sleeping bag, utterly spent.
James pulls out and kneels in front of me, his chest rising and falling, his body still tense. I blink up at him, my vision a little hazy, my eyelids heavy, but I can still see him perfectly.
He’s still hard as a rock.
His gaze rakes over me with pure hunger, making my heart pound even faster.
“Good?” he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
I hum, closing my eyes, my fingers tracing lazy circles over my stomach. “Mmm. Very.”
He chuckles, then bends down and brushes his lips against mine. “I’m not done with you yet, little danger.”
My eyes flash open. “No?”
“Not even close.”
His hands move fast, grabbing my waist and flipping me over. He pulls me against him, my body molding to his. Chest to back. Heat to heat.
I’m on my knees, just like him, the sleeping bag soft beneath me. I shiver as his fingers trace down my spine, from my neck to my lower back, ending with a firm squeeze to my butt.
I clench my teeth, trying to control my desire, but a low sound slips from my lips anyway. God, my body’s already begging for more.
James grabs my hips, guiding me back as the tip of his cock presses against my entrance, hot, thick, more than ready.
He thrusts in, and a strangled moan escapes me as he sinks deeper, making me his all over again.
We’ve never had sex in this position, and for some insane reason, his dick feels even bigger like this. The stretch burns, almost too much, and I let out a soft whimper.
“James, I don’t think I—”
“You can take me, baby.”
He gently kisses the back of my neck.
My back presses against his chest, heat radiating off his skin. But he doesn’t move.
He waits.
Another kiss, lower this time.
I shift, adjusting, my knees sliding wider to either side of the sleeping bag. My ass presses into his abs. One of his hands stays steady on my belly, while the other moves slowly up and down my arm, soothing and patient.
“You can take it. You were made for me…”
One more kiss, featherlight.
“…and I was made for you.”
I open my legs a little more, giving him the space he needs. My knees brush his, and I smile, because the burn fades, and now all I feel is him.
Another kiss, this time on my shoulder.
“Good girl.”
He starts to move. Every thrust hits that sweet, aching spot inside me, again and again, until I’m shaking.
“Always running into danger, Sarah Williams.”
“Always in your direction, James Hill.”
A curse escapes his lips. His hand snakes up to my throat and gently tilts my head back, guiding it over his shoulder until I’m staring straight into those blue eyes.
His mouth finds mine in a wild kiss. He groans into my mouth, the sound low and primal, and my body reacts to him instantly, craving more.
One of his hands cups my breast, thumb flicking my nipple. The other finds my clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles.
He’s claiming me in every way possible. Inside and out. Skin and tongue.
He’s everywhere.
The sound I make gets lost in his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps that delicious, addictive rhythm with his cock in and out of me, like a man possessed.
I bury my fingers into his messy brown hair, trying to ground myself. But I lose track of everything—where I am, who I am—because nothing else exists outside of this moment. Outside of him.
I pant, moan, gasp, groan, cry out, call his name, call for God.
“Look at you, filling this tent with your screams, little danger.”
My legs shake as he thrusts faster. His hands stay on me, one stroking my clit, the other cupping my breast. The sensation is overwhelming, fucking perfect. And I don’t know if I should beg him to stop or pray he never lets it end.
“You’re gonna feel me for days,” he growls against my skin.