Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
Jameson
Nothing has ever sounded as intoxicating as Lane moaning out my name, breathless and broken. That sound slides under my skin, addictive, and I swear I’m going to make sure mine is the only name she moans.
She looks like a goddess straddling me; hair spilling wild around her face, eyes half-lidded and glazed. Her body caught between pleasure and surrender. Sweat slicks her collarbone, catching in the dim light of the street lamps, her floral scent wrapping around me.
A guttural groan rips from my throat as I press my lips to hers again, letting the kiss build slowly before it tips into something harder, more demanding. My fist tangles in her hair, tugging her back gently, exposing the smooth column of her neck.
I nip at the spot right behind her ear, pulling a whimper from her throat, before soothing it with the flat of my tongue. She bucks against me, and my cock twitches, straining against the zipper of my jeans, heat spreading through my body.
“That’s it, Wildflower,” I rasp, voice rough. “Ride my cock. Use me to come.” My dirty words spill against her skin like gasoline, igniting her.
Her movements grow erratic, hips rolling faster but losing rhythm, her moans turning frantic. I grip her hips, fingers digging in just enough to guide her, helping her find the friction she needs.
“Fuck, Wildflower,” I grit out, watching her, trapped in her ecstasy. “You look so beautiful using my cock to get yourself off. Are you going to come for me, baby?”
She moans louder, her head falling back. My hand slides up, tangling back in her hair, forcing her eyes to meet mine. The sound that leaves her lips is part plea, part surrender.
“I asked you a question, baby,” I growl. “Are you going to come all over my lap?”
“Yes, yes. Please, I want to come,” she begs, fighting against my hold, desperately trying to chase her release.
I release my hold, moving my hand down to tease her perfect rose colored nipples, my other hand still gripping the curve of her hip. “That’s my good fucking girl.” My words ignite a fire in her, hips moving faster, as a strangled moan leaves her throat.
A praise kink, huh? Praising her everyday for the rest of our lives will be easy. I’d do anything to see this look on her face. To have her fall apart for me.
Between the sexy little sounds leaving her throat and the feel of her wet heat grinding against my cock, I’m going to come in my pants like a teenage boy.
I grit my teeth, willing myself to keep it together.
Her body tenses, her movements becoming choppy. “Come for me, Wildflower,” I command, bringing my mouth back to her nipple. My teeth close around the hard peak, tugging.
Her body locks up, then shatters, her orgasm slamming into her so hard she half-yells, half-moans my name. I guide her over my cock, helping her ride out the aftershocks, until she’s spent and sated, her body trembling.
Lane coming apart for me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The way she doesn’t hold back, but instead owns her pleasure.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her close, resting my forehead against hers. “Fuck baby, that was sexy as hell. You, coming apart for me like that. You are incredible, Wildflower,” I murmur, running my palms up and down her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps across her smooth skin.
Her eyes drift shut, a content sigh leaving her lips, as she sinks into my touch. “I don’t know the last time I came that hard, especially from dry humping like a couple of horny teenagers.”
I tease my lips against hers. “There’s more to come, baby.
” I lean back and run a hand through her long, thick hair, brushing out some of the tangles.
“And I don’t just mean sex, because there is plenty more of that coming too.
I mean more dates, more conversations, more getting to know each other. ”
A flicker of doubt flashes across her eyes, so quick I almost miss it. She wants this. Wants me. But that lingering fear won't let go. The fear of letting herself love again. Of losing her self-worth again. Of being hurt again by someone who promised to cherish her.
I bite my lip, holding back the words that threaten to spill out. I want to tell her about my past. About the abuse I lived through. It’s right on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. It’s too soon.
“I won’t rush you, Wildflower. All I’m asking for is a chance,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
My step dad taught me many lessons over the years, but the most important one was how to treat a woman. Especially one who has been hurt. It took a long time for my mom to be ready to date. But Vic took his time and earned her trust.
Eventually, she fell for him, because how could she not? He worships the ground she walks on, treating her with nothing but kindness and respect. He’s always treated me like a son. He taught me how to love, how to respect, how to be a man.
Lane hesitates, briefly, before her lips pull up in a small teasing smile. “Okay, but you only get one chance with me. Fuck it up and we’re done.”
Guilt twists in my gut. She’s going to be furious when she finds out who I really am. She’s going to try to pull away from me. Hell, she might even try to disappear again.
I’d like to see her try. I won’t let her get away from me. I will find a way to make her understand.
I will find a way to keep her safe.
The blaring of my cell phone pulls me from sleep, interrupting a very graphic dream about my Wildflower.
It’s been just over three weeks since that night in my Bronco, when Lane came all over my lap.
I’ve kept my promise—taking things slow.
Keeping it all about her. I haven’t let her touch me yet.
Haven’t even tasted her from my fingers.
Wanting the first time to be when I can finally bury my face between her silky smooth thighs.
I peek at the cheap alarm clock and groan. Snatching my cell off the stand, I bring it to my ear. “It’s four o'clock in the fucking morning, Miles.”
“It could be nothing, but someone tried to hack my network,” he grits out, voice thick with irritation.
I bolt upright, adrenaline burning away the lingering haze of sleep. “Can you find out who it was?”
His fingers fly across his keyboard, the sound echoing through the phone. “I’m already working on it, but it’s going to take some time. Have you told her yet?”
“I’m working on it,” I parrot back to him.
I toss my phone aside and head for the shower.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep now.
I’m too wound up. It could be nothing, people try to hack each other all the time.
But the fact remains that we know next to nothing about our client.
We don’t know what he’s capable of or how far he would go to find Ceciley.
Hell we don’t even know what he plans to do if he finds her. I don’t imagine he’s going to hand her over to the cops.
I can’t shake the feeling that my time is running out.