Now #2
But when one of his big hands slithers between us to cup my breast, I realize he’s made his way between my legs as I lean back on Winnie’s hood.
In this position, he towers over me, arched in a way that gives him dominion over the moment.
My face is angled up, my mouth pliant under his repeated invasions.
I’m burning all over. Feverish and heated like I’m standing right in front of a fire pit.
And between my legs … I’m throbbing, soaked, and eager for him, for his touch.
I can’t recall ever being this aroused before.
And if I ever was, it was with him. Without a shadow of a doubt.
Only this man could make me this desperate for release.
This eager to be filled and plowed with powerful thrusts.
“Jax,” I moan into the kiss.
“I know, princess.”
My fingers curl into the fine fabric of his shirt as his lips explore my neck, his greedy tongue sampling every inch of skin it can access.
I’m so starved for his touch that when his free hand lowers between us and covers the heated space that’s begging for him, I can’t do anything but whimper his name.
“I bet you’re so wet …” he rasps in my ear. “Your pretty little pussy was always so fucking drenched for me, wasn’t it, Evie?”
“Please,” I beg, arching into his hand, trying to get more.
“Will you let me check, princess? Let me see just how much you want me?”
I clasp a hand around his muscular neck, worried I might turn into a puddle. My nod is enough confirmation, but I still moan, “Yes, please, Jax.”
His hot lips return to mine while his hands work on the fastening of my pants.
He easily pops the button open, then slides the zipper down.
Because it’s the weekend, I’m wearing something comfortable, a little looser than I normally would.
And it’s wide enough for him to easily slip his hand into the opening.
Two of his fingers draw a firm path along my underwear, following the entire length of my slit.
“Fuck, Evie …” he groans. “You’re weeping for me.”
“I know,” I almost cry out when he draws a tentative circle right over my clit.
The whimper that escapes me when his hand retreats is probably pathetic, but it quickly dies down as he lowers it again, under the thin mesh of my underwear this time.
Jackson straightens up just a little, enough to bring his gaze to mine. Hypnotized, I stare back, lips parted as I pant, face hot with arousal. Slowly, as if he wants to make the moment last forever, he finds the sensitive little bead again and rolls it under his fingertips.
“Aah, Jackson—”
“Still so sensitive for me. Remember that first time I made you come like this? You quivered on that old theater seat so hard. And then I held you as you came down.”
“I remember.”
“Of course you do … First orgasms leave a mark.”
His two fingers have stopped toying with the sensitive nub and lowered to my dripping slit instead. I don’t have time to brace myself before he plunges them in, ripping another small cry out of me.
“So good,” he grunts. “You always challenged my stamina with that tightness. I thought it would get easier with time, but fuck, Evie … It was so hard to hold back. All I wanted was to fill you up with my cum, but I couldn’t give in.
Not before I’d made you shatter around my cock a couple of times first.”
My walls pulse around his fingers, which are slowly pumping in and out of me.
It makes a squelching sound that is barely muffled by my clothes and whimpers.
I nearly lose it when he adjusts his hand so the fleshy base of his thumb can rub me where it feels so good while his fingers keep torturing me.
He doesn’t seem to be in a rush to make me come. And I probably should be frustrated. But I’m not, because I’m so much closer than he expects. The slow rubbing on my clit, the lazy drag in and out of me, are enough for me to tilt into a body-shaking climax.
“Jax!” I cry out, tugging at his shirt so hard that a button pops.
Surprise flashes in his mismatched eyes as I throb around his fingers. “Already?” he mutters, never halting his ministrations. “That boring asshole didn’t take good care of you, did he?”
I don’t answer. I can’t, lost to the pleasure. How? How is this better than anything I’ve known these past seven years? How can he make me feel this good with just his fingers? And he wasn’t even trying. He was slowly working me up to the finish line. I couldn’t help taking a shortcut.
But it looks like this isn’t quite over yet.
Instead of taking my early finish as a compliment to his talents, Jackson sees it as a challenge.
His hand between us becomes bolder, its touch firmer, its pace faster.
I’m not even done with my orgasm, yet he’s already adamantly leading me to the next one.
And I don’t fight it. I haven’t felt this good in a very long time, and I know just how high I can reach if I let him do his thing. He’s made me touch the sky and the stars before, and this is exactly where I expect he’ll lead me again if I let him.
His lips crash into mine as the wet sounds between us intensify. I completely let loose, trusting him with my body more than I trust myself. My moans are impossible to contain, but he doesn’t seem to mind, swallowing them all as his fingers keep pumping inside me at a maddening pace.
What are we doing? This is insane. And a terrible idea, too.
It took me so long to get over us, to move on, and give myself another chance at love.
It’s crazy what the brain will do to protect itself, because I swear I didn’t remember just how ridiculously intense everything is with this man.
I forgot how he could make my legs shake with just his hand.
How his lips on mine were the headiest sensation I’ve ever experienced.
But I guess my mind had to do this, to lessen the truth so that I could go on with life without lamenting too much about what I lost.
This time, I can’t tell if he’s surprised or not by how fast I come.
All I know is that he holds me together as I writhe onto his hand, overwhelmed by the waves and shivers that overtake my entire body.
Once more, I cry out his name, arm hooked around his shoulder to stay grounded, right there against him.
Before I can worry that he’ll try to make me come a third time, his movements slow. The thrusts of his fingers become soothing more than stimulating, and the base of his thumb gives my throbbing nub some space.
Despite my best efforts, I can’t seem to control my ragged breathing. So, I give up and let my body sag back onto the hood.
His gaze scans me with unmasked contentment, and I force myself not to shy away from it.
“I almost forgot how good you look when you’re coming,” he appreciatively says. “And this, when you’re still a little confused, like you can’t quite fathom what just happened to you … It’s always been my favorite moment.”
That’s when he slips his soaked fingers out of my underwear and pants, then, never breaking eye contact, brings them to his lips.