Chapter 18 Rosie #2
“Yes,” I whimper. One hand drifts down my back, gathering my hair and pulling it, not hard, but enough to tug, enough to move through me like fire, burning and building me higher, faster.
He groans at the feel, then starts moving faster, harder.
Each thrust, he tugs a bit on my hair, and soon I’m rambling with the pleasure that my entire body is experiencing, getting him to give me more, to fuck me harder, telling him how good he feels in me.
My breasts move against the blanket with each thrust, his hand in my hair, his fingers in the plush skin of my ass, his cock bottoming out with each thrust.
“Rub your clit, Rosie,” he says. I hesitate, my brain now able to comprehend what’s happening, but then his hand moves from my ass, landing with a hard crack on the skin of my ass. The slap reverberates to my clit, making me tighten around him and moan.
It’s a surprise, this hard edge to Jack when we’re like this, but not one I dislike.
But I do as he asks all the same, moving my hand between my legs and starting to rub my swollen clit.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan into the blankets of his bed.
“You feel so fucking good, Rosie.” I tighten, the pleasure swirling and building, too much, too fast, too consuming. “I need you to get there,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I don’t think I can,” I groan, despite my rapidly rising pleasure, despite my fingers moving in quick, precise circles around my clit.
One hand leaves my hips, moving up my body and wrapping its hands in my hair and pulling back, the move still tinged in the signature Jack gentleness despite the hot tug.
“The first time I come in you, Rosemary, I’m doing it with you tightening and taking me over the edge.” I groan at his words, my fingers moving faster as my back arches, his body bending over mine, his hips still fucking me. “Now fucking come for your man.”
The demand is a growl, ripped from the pages of one of my spicy fantasies, and my vision goes black, and I combust, tightening around his cock and coming.
And coming.
And coming. I barely register the extra tug on my hair that has my pussy clenching again.
Mini orgasm, but I definitely feel him push in deeper still, then groan into my neck as he pulses inside, spilling into me.
After long, heavy-breathed moments, his fingers loosen in my hair, before the tips scrub at my roots as if trying to erase any discomfort he didn’t cause.
Then slowly and gently, he lays me back onto his bed, sliding out of me.
I collapse into a pleasure-filled puddle and he chuckles before pressing a soft kiss to my lower back, then padding away.
I can feel myself starting to drift off—it’s almost morning, after all—when his feet return and I feel a warm, wet cloth between my legs as he cleans me.
I close my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat with the realization that though I’ve read of aftercare, I’ve never experienced the sweet thoughtfulness of it.
He’s gone again, and I breathe through my nose and try to center my emotions before he lies next to me on the bed, pulling me into his arms. My face snuggles into his chest and I take in the uniquely Jack smell before finally, finally I speak.
“Was it magical, Jack?” A beat passes before his entire body shakes with a laugh, and my lips tip up, and even though I should be overthinking every moment of this, I can’t find it in me to.
I wake in Jack’s bed and, unlike in all of the books I’ve read, there’s no moment of confusion, no beat of wondering where I am or how I got here.
Probably because this isn’t my happily ever after enemies-to-friends-to-lovers romance.
Instead, I remember every moment from last night in vivid, soul-shaking detail.
The field with the moonflowers, nearly coming from dryhumping Jack.
The car ride home, sliding his hands down my leggings.
Coming back to his place, and my pleasant surprise to learn my shy, blushing, nerdy neighbor is anything but in bed.
My core tightens as I remember it, and a small smile spreads on my lips.
“You up?” Jack murmurs, his voice low and gravelly against my cheek, and I shift, opening my eyes to see him smiling down at me. His glasses are on already, making me wonder how long he’s been up.
“Yeah,” I murmur, then try to sit up. What’s the protocol for hooking up with your neighbor who used to hate you and you’ve now dragged into the supernatural world and are on a magical quest with?
I’d have to assume snuggling is off the table.
But when his arm tightens around my waist, I look up at him and he gives me a soft, shy smile.
“A minute longer. Then you can run off if you want.” I stare at him for a bit, realizing he wants to snuggle. Considering I am very much a snuggler, I give in immediately.
“So last night…” I say, not looking at him, which makes it easier.
“Is something I’d very much like to redo.” My head snaps up and my eyes are wild when they meet his. His eyes are filled with amusement and his lips are tipped similarly so. “Unless you don’t…”
“No, no. I, uh…” I clear my throat, unsure of how to say what I want to say. “I do. I just… does this make things… messy?” He shrugs.
“Only if we let it be.”
That sounds simple.
Too simple, actually.
I’ve read a lot of books. Fake dating and hookups and one-night stands and friends being something just for now always ends in a mess.
But those are books.
And this is real life.
And in a few weeks, all previous relationships will be wiped from my mind and I’ll be off to find my true love.
Right?
Right. In fact, this seems pretty much perfect, if you ask me. So I smile at Jack.
“You make a great point.” He smiles back. “And it was… it was very good.” He lets out a laugh then, his smile turning to a wide grin I love seeing, before he reaches up to take his glasses off and set them back on his bedside table.
“It was. Maybe we should test it out, make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”
“Definitely,” I say in a whisper, and then I’m on my back, Jack pressing kisses down my body, and all thoughts of anything but that are long gone from my mind.