Chapter 4 #3
Jack tsked through his teeth, his breathing ragged.
“This is a team sport, Delilah. Not a race.” He circled my waist, hoisting me to his chest. I fought the pain in my ribs, my back, wrapping my legs around his middle, my arms around his neck, as he shifted his hold to grab my thighs.
“Because if this was a race, I'd come first.”
?
My pain all but forgotten, Jack guided us across the floor, lapping at my neck.
Whatever he was doing, I liked it. More than liked. Shivers of pleasure radiated up and down my spine. I tossed my head back, my throat an offering.
“So responsive,” Jack mumbled into my skin, moving his lips to the hollow of my throat. He traced my lines with his tongue, before sucking a bit of flesh between his teeth.
An involuntary moan slipped free. It was hotter, breathier, than any sound I’d ever made.
“Jesus Christ, that sound—” Spinning us around, Jack lowered himself onto the couch, so that he was seated with me straddling his lap. “I was trying to cool down.”
“How’s that working for you?” I rocked my hips, which promptly got Jack’s hands to seize my waist.
“Not. Very. Well.”
Despite the heat unfurling within me, the need coursing through my body, I stifled a laugh.
“Just. Just let me touch you. Okay?” He looked serious, like he was trying to hold a grip on his last nerve. To not spill over the edge. “Don’t move. I’ll do all the work. Please.”
Reluctantly, I agreed. Though not moving was going to be a challenge. All I wanted to do was feel him, preferably in me.
“Good.” He relaxed, releasing his grip. Then, ever so slowly, he skimmed his fingers up my sides, fluttering over the skin beneath my breasts, between them, and back again. The gentle movement was bait. I was sure of it. He was tempting me, taunting me, testing me.
So, I breathed deeper. Heavier. My chest rising and falling like waves on a rising tide.
Jack tilted my chin to look at him. To keep his eyes on mine as he slipped the sleeves off my shoulders, and slowly, slowly, lowered the front of my dress until the fabric was gathered around my waist, my chest laid bare. My breasts appropriately peaked.
He muttered a curse to himself, dropping his hands, releasing me. My body craved his absent warmth.
“I didn’t expect them to be this bad.” It took me a moment to realize what he meant.
“If I’m not allowed to move, you can’t comment on the bruises.” If the Muffin Man hadn’t crushed me, they would have been in a lot better shape.
“But—”
I rocked my hips again, savoring the friction, but this time it was a threat.
“Message received.” Jack sucked in through his teeth, exposing his neck as he stilled my hips.
It took a moment before he slowly resumed his ministrations, tracing the skin beneath my breast, fingers in direct contact with my flesh.
I relaxed into the tender strokes, closing my eyes, letting Jack go about his plans unsupervised.
The skin of Jack’s palms ran over my breasts. A slow cupping. Squeezing. The movement re-enforced how my body was changing. How they had grown increasingly swollen, sore. But above all else, they were sensitive.
Very fucking sensitive.
Heat flushed my face. Adrenaline pushed me to move, fight, kick, buck, caress, anything but stay still. It wanted to claim the pleasure I desired. But I kept my word. I stayed still. So frustratingly still.
He squeezed again sending a rush to my head and pleasure curling low in my stomach.
I needed to move, do something, but the only movements I could muster without breaking my word were restricted to my face. So, I opened my eyes, and when I did, I found Jack studying me. My body. A mound-full of me in each of his hands.
Was he—Did he notice something?
He must have realized that something was different. That I was different. The slight color change. How what used to be generous handfuls, now confidently spilled over the edges.
I’d noticed the changes because I was intimately familiar with my body, but Jack didn’t have the same excuse. He’d seen me naked exactly once. Maybe twice, depending on how much of me was on display when Jerome sewed me up.
But as Jack sucked the peak of my breast into his mouth, every half-formed worrisome thought left my head. He wasn’t inspecting, he was appreciating.
I moaned that unearthly breathy moan, which sent Jack purring into my skin.
Everything swirled. I wanted him to take more. Do more.
And he responded by dragging my tip between his teeth, biting down.
“Ah.” The pleasure was piercing. He nipped and sucked, drawing life from me to him. Consuming me.
Which caused me to do a bad thing.
I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. The tension was too much. I needed release. Now. And if he wasn’t going to—
Somehow, my hand had slipped into his pants. And I was moving. A lot.
“Delilah.” Jack ripped his mouth from me, but it was too late. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, be still any longer. “Delilah—”
Jack clamped onto my shoulders and bowed his head, release shuddering through him. A tidal wave beneath his skin.
Even as I felt the rattle of satisfaction overwhelm him, I didn’t slow until Jack drew in a long trembling breath. Then another.
He looked at himself, what I’d made him do, then to me.
“You moved.”