Chapter 12
J.T
Unwrapping Kelly is like the best damn gift I’ve ever laid my hands on.
And I am a man who has had access to just about anything money can buy.
None of it compares to this.
She’s even more than I imagined—and that’s saying something, because I’ve got one hell of an imagination.
Years of it.
Years of watching her from across rooms, picturing what it would feel like to peel fabric from skin, to hear my name fall from her mouth in the dark.
Years of discipline.
Of restraint.
Now she’s here.
In my house.
In my fucking bedroom.
Just a few steps from my bed.
And the real thing?
It blows every fantasy I ever built clean out of the water.
Her dress, when it slides off her arms under my hands, slow and deliberate, falls to the floor in a gentle swoosh.
I don’t rush.
I won’t rush this part.
I want to feel every inch of her as she’s revealed to me, like I’m committing her to memory.
Her skin is warm.
Soft. Glowing like honey.
Alive under my palms.
She smells good. All honey and cinnamon. Sweet. Clean.
That hint of something spicy that makes my blood run hotter.
I inhale near her neck and close my eyes for half a second.
I like it.
I really fucking like it.
My hands move over her waist, her hips, reverent and greedy all at once.
She arches into me.
Fuck, she arches and I lose my mind.
Her taut nipples bite against my bare chest—shirt off and forgotten somewhere in my desperation to get us both naked—in a way that makes my control hang by a thread.
The rest of her is so soft, so fucking hot.
As I hold her to my chest, sipping sweetly from her lips, my cock threatens to punch a hole through the thin barrier of fabric that is my boxers.
A low, raw sound tears out of me before I can stop it.
She doesn’t shrink.
She leans closer.
“Fuck,” I breathe against her mouth, my forehead dropping to hers for just a second as I try to steady the inferno building under my skin. “Honey, I’m hungry for you, too.”
Hungry doesn’t even begin to cover it.
I’ve wanted this woman for so long the need feels like it’s etched into my bones.
Now that she’s here—choosing me back—every second of waiting feels unbearable.
My hands slide lower, then back up, mapping her curves like I have all the time in the world, even though inside I’m shaking with need.
I dip my fingers beneath the elastic waistband of those sexy as fuck panties she’s wearing—they’re thin, sheer, and so damn soft—until I brush against the soft curls covering her sex.
“J.T.,” she moans, eyes rolling back as I slide through her slickness, rubbing the pad of my thumb over her hard little clit.
“Fuck, Honey, you’re sopping wet for me. Fucking soaked.”
“Is that—I mean does that disgust you?” Kelly’s eyes go round and she pushes gently on my shoulders.
I frown and tighten my hold.
“Disgust me? Honey, you soaking this pussy all because of me is so goddamn sexy. Feel this? Feel what you do to me?” I growl and remove my hand from her panties, albeit reluctantly.
Then I flex my hips into her so she can feel how hard my dick is.
There’s no hiding it.
No pretending.
Kelly whimpers and I groan, grabbing her by her thighs and picking her up so I can rub my cock against her sweet, hot pussy.
“Holy fuck,” she gasps, holding on to me while I roll my hips, grinding into her again.
“Tell me if you want me to slow down,” I murmur, even though every cell in my body is screaming to take.
Because this?
This only works if she walks into it with me.
Her hands grip my shoulders, nails pressing just enough to make my blood spike.
“I don’t want you to slow down or stop. I-I want,” she stutters softly.
“What do you want, Kelly? Tell me.”
“I want to be with you like this. I-I want you to fuck me, J.T.”
A slow grin pulls at my mouth.
“Good,” I whisper back, my lips brushing her jaw, her throat, the hollow just below her ear. “Because I’m done pretending I don’t need you. Done acting like I can walk away from this.”
I carry her the last few steps and then I drop her onto the bed.
She lands with a sexy little bounce, legs spread.
Her tits are heaving in her sheer lace bra.
And I stare at her cause I can’t help it.
Cause she’s something precious and dangerous at the same time.
The sight of her there—hair loose, skin flushed, eyes dark with want—nearly unmans me.
I’ve built empires.
I’ve negotiated deals worth millions.
None of it has ever made my hands shake the way they do now.
Because this isn’t conquest.
This is culmination.
And I am done waiting.