Chapter 16 #2
“If you want, I’ll tell him,” he offers from the other side of the door.
God forbid! God forbid, that is the last thing I want. He should know that, so why the hell is he still talking, no, singsonging, just to rile me up?
“I’ll go downstairs right now and tell him everything. Tell him you’re a naughty, naughty girl with a really, really sweet pussy.”
I stand up.
Shit.
“I’ll tell him you love getting spanked so much that you’re walking around with handprints on your butt cheeks. I’ll tell him–”
I yank the door open, my face on fire.
“Stop saying this kind of shit! Someone could hear you.”
But Jasper only gives me a smug little smirk. Victory.
“And stop calling me that… it makes you sound less like an asshole, and nobody wants this.”
“Calling you what? Jules?” he teases. “You don’t like being called Jules?”
He reaches for my shoulder to move past me through the narrow gap between the door and the wall. I slap his hand away, but it’s too late and now he’s inside.
Annoying bastard!
He plants a fist on his hip and waves his other hand like he’s shooing me out.
“Okay, I need to take a shit now, better get out before you regret–”
“Oh my God, Jasper!” I snap mid-sentence. “Why the hell are you so disgusting?”
“I’m joking,” he says, trying not to laugh. And because I’m still scowling, he repeats, “I’m joking. I wanna take a shower.”
Then he stops, thinks, looks me up and down with hungry eyes, like his mind has just unlocked a whole set of filthy ideas.
He steps toward me.
“Do you wanna take a shower?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Very.”
“I could soap you up… everywhere” he reaches for my shoulder again and I slap his hand once more.
All I get from it is another amused laugh. Like he’s poking an animal that might bite his hand off if he’s not careful. A smug, filthy grin, but at least a little hesitation.
“Are you sure, Jules?”
I roll my eyes. Then turn my back to him, open the door, and walk out of the bathroom.
And suddenly I’m standing in the hallway, the door closed, my hand still on the doorknob, while a full-blown war breaks out inside me. Mind versus body. Body versus mind. They clearly hate each other, because they never agree on anything.
And of course the mind should be stronger, but the poor thing never stands a chance. Especially when it comes to Jasper.
No matter what the battle is, my body always wins.
So I spin around, and before I even understand what I’m doing, I’m back inside the bathroom.
Jasper is already naked. Completely naked.
And I’ve never seen anyone take the concept of “looking good naked” so seriously in my life.
Every rational thought melts out of my head.
My body wants nothing more than to wrap itself around his again, feel his skin against mine, feel the heat, feel the firmness, feel him.
My mind? My mind has turned into goo. Completely useless.
He’s in the middle of turning the shower on when he registers that I came back. I remember last night – every chaotic, intoxicating second of it – and the first thing I do is lock the door.
Then I start taking off my clothes. Slowly. Deliberately. He watches me in absolute silence, his face unreadable, still as stone. I can’t tell if he’s unaffected or if he’s simply focusing on every move I make.
Both options terrify me equally.
I slide off my shorts – the same ones he told me to put on earlier – and the scrape of fabric down my legs sends sparks of adrenaline through my body.
Only my bikini is left, but even though it’s made for water, I take my time with it, unknotting the ties behind my back, then at my neck.
The top falls, and the way his gaze locks onto my breasts makes my entire body tighten.
I love that look on his face.
That mix of fascination and desire not even he can hide.
I undo the knots on my hips, one by one, and my bottoms slide to the floor. Jasper bites his lower lip, still serious, still quiet, waiting for what I’ll do next.
There’s only one thing to do: open the glass door and step into the shower.
So I do it.
I walk toward him until barely an inch separates our bodies, and even that feels like too much distance.
I rise on my toes to kiss him, and when I still can’t quite reach, he leans down, meeting me halfway.
His hands rest on my waist – gentle, steady, enough to hold me up but not enough to take control.
He’s letting me take the lead.
He’s letting me decide what’s gonna happen now.
Which is insane, because I barely know what’s happening anymore. I haven’t known for a long time. Not since he went down on me against that half-rotten staircase on the beach and turned everything inside my head into fog.
My lips curve into a crooked smile.
Reciprocity.
The word comes up immediately.
Reciprocity.
I bite back an even bigger smile, because out of everything he might be expecting me to do, this is probably the last thing on his list.
I press my body to his and drag a slow, wet kiss along his jaw, sliding my lips to his neck, feeling my skin burn where it meets his dark stubble, while my fingers trace their way down to his thigh, searching the skin until they reach his already half-hard length, which turns to iron the moment I touch it.
I slide my fingers around the back, closing my hand around him like a loose fist.
The moment I make my first stroke, I feel Jasper's breath go heavy against my ear.
I add a little more pressure and do it again.
My lips find their way back to his, and this time it's Jasper who kisses me first, pulling my head toward him to deepen the kiss, like someone who's starting to lose his mind and might not let me stay in control for very long.
My hand keeps moving at the same steady pace while I reluctantly pull back from the kiss just enough to look at him. Jaw tight, Adam's apple prominent and working with each heavy breath, dark almond eyes burning like molten lava. Only then I start going down.
I keep looking up as I kiss his chest, the cut lines of his abs, the V that leads the way to the most beautiful cock I've ever seen in my life. It helps that I'm sober now, so I actually have time and a clear view to take it all in without rushing.
The first brush of my tongue against his sensitive skin makes his muscles lock up, which is all the encouragement I need to keep going, lips and tongue making the whole journey up and then reversing back down, drawing out the anticipation, doing it on purpose to drive him just a little crazy before I get to what I'm planning.
I lick and kiss and suck everything I find along the way, and God, how did I go from not wanting this at all to having Jasper Hassmann's balls in my mouth?
I drag one long, slow lick from the base all the way to the tip, eyes finding his again as I bring my lips to the tip and open my mouth, taking him in slowly and intentionally, testing how far I can go. I pull back, and when I repeat the motion, I let him go deeper.
Jasper lets out a rough sound, somewhere between a moan and a growl, and my clit starts pulsing again.
My mouth fills with him until I feel it at the back of my throat with nowhere left to go, so I use my hand to cover the rest and match the rhythm of my head moving forward and back.
Each time, I feel him hit the back of my throat again.
I press my free hand against his thigh for better control and start picking up the pace. His cock pulses in my mouth, drawing a moan out of me that gets caught in my throat, and I'm barely done with that one before another one follows.
I feel his hand cover mine, his fingers lacing through my fingers, and my heart stumbles over itself because Jasper doesn't need to do that. I'm down here on my knees, on the bathroom floor with his dick in my mouth, feeling completely dirty and submissive and half out of my mind.
Nothing about this moment calls for him to have his hand on mine.
His touch makes me ease back slightly, slow the pace, just to look up at him again.
Jasper brings his other hand to my head, fingers threading through my hair, but at no point do they try to take over my movements. His touch is firm against my skin while still letting me set the pace, even when I'm not taking him as deep as before.