Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HAWK
“Till this moment, I never knew myself.”
~ Fitzwilliam Darcy
Jack Wyatt was fucking magic.
I’d been looked at before—plenty of times—but no one had ever watched me with an intensity in their deep blue eyes that made me feel powerful and sexy.
I’d been kissed—a few times—but never with an all-consuming hunger that left me shaking and addicted.
I’d been touched before, too—once or twice—but I’d never felt like a single touch could light my whole body on fire or like I might come from the slightest brush of someone’s hand on mine.
In short, being with Jack was so much more than teenage Hawkins could have dreamed of and even more than adult-me had imagined… despite my very frequent attempts to imagine it.
Jack stood by the bed and stared down at me laid out before him. He bit his lip, like I was something tasty and he wasn’t sure where to bite first, and the very idea of that made my dick literally throb against my belly.
“Are you trying to make me come with the power of your mind?” I demanded, the words coming out a little reedier than I’d expected. “’Cause maybe that can be round two, okay? Stop looking and start—ohhhh.”
My command trailed off into a moan as Jack braced his knee on the bed and lifted my hand to his mouth.
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the center of my palm, drawing hot, wet circles with his tongue, and…
sweet mother of dragons, who knew palms felt like that?
I was never making fun of Regency women for their gloves again because I was seriously, entirely compromised.
Jack dragged his mouth up my arm, stopping to lavish affection on my wrist and nip my elbow and bury his face in my armpit, making all those perfectly ordinary places suddenly feel sexy and sensitive.
He kissed his way to my chest, nudging my necklace aside, and then moved back down again, licking and tugging at my nipples with his teeth.
The low sounds of my need felt like shouts in the still quiet of the room.
“Take off your clothes,” I begged. “Please, Jack.”
I watched him peel his clothes off in record time, exposing his body in the warm, low light of a single bedside table lamp.
He was everything I’d ever dreamed of in a man.
Broad-shouldered and tall with a sandy-brown happy trail leading down into his underwear.
His abdomen was slightly rounded from too many hours spent working as a chef, but I loved that about him.
Had he carried a six-pack to match his well-muscled arms and shoulders, I might have been more intimidated by his perfection.
As it was, he was perfect to me, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
The scruff of his sandy beard had already done a number on my lips and chin, but I wanted more of it.
I wanted that prickle scraping the tender flesh of my inner thighs, the thin skin over my hips, the sensitive spots behind my ears.
Jack could mark me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and I’d wear the scrapes, scratches, and bruises with pride.
I wanted… needed… proof of this moment. Hard evidence I wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating.
“Deep breath, baby,” he murmured, frowning at me. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”
I reached out my arm and grabbed his wrist, yanking him back down until his body pressed mine into the mattress. “Want you so much,” I admitted, forcing myself not to apologize to him for fucking it all up with my nervous anticipation.
He leaned in and kissed me again, his mouth owning me and holding me in place. I wrapped my legs around him to keep him from pulling away again. His cock was hard, pressing against mine through the layers of our underwear. His hips undulated until my head was swimming and my dick was leaking.
“More,” I begged, moving my hands down underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs to cup his ass. I couldn’t believe this was happening. That I, Hawk Sunday, could finally touch Jack Wyatt’s naked butt.
But how much more could I do? What things did Jack like? Would he want me to move a finger between his cheeks? Would he like it if I got aggressive? Would I? As well as we knew one another in so many ways, this was new territory for both of us. It was unnerving… and incredibly exciting.
I thought—hoped—he mostly topped. I knew for sure that was what I wanted, tonight at least.
“Will you fuck me?” I asked, my nerves ramping back up. “Please?”
Jack palmed my cheek and met my eyes. “Hell yes. Are you sure?”
“So fucking sure. More than sure. And I, um…” How could I tell him I had plenty of experience with toys without making things awkward? “I… think it’ll be okay?”
His expression softened, and he said with infinite patience, “It will definitely be okay, Hawk. We’ll go slow.”
“Er… no. Please don’t go slow,” I blurted. “I, um… I’m prepared. For this. Tonight. In the shower. Earlier.”
Jack’s lips twitched like he thought I was adorable, which wasn’t a huge upgrade from awkward, but I’d take it. “That’s good. But baby, there’s more to it than that. If you’re going to take me, we need to stretch—”
“I have toys,” I blurted. “So many. Like… several. More penises than a man needs in a lifetime. Large ones, and jumbo ones, and vibratey ones, and one that’s supposed to be kept in the freezer that caused a whole incident when Aiden decided to feed a ‘Popsicle’ to the dog and I pretended it was Porter’s.
But I have never had a real one, and I would very much like to. ”
Jack’s eyes were wide as my words came to a stumbling halt, so I added a few more, just in case. “Specifically, your penis. Inside me. Now.” I coughed, mortified. “Wow, that nervous babbling thing is real, huh?”
Jack threw his head back and laughed, which might have worried me, except the next second, he lurched up and fused his lips to mine.
“You,” he whispered between biting kisses. “Are. The best thing. In my life.”
Oh. Well. That was okay, then.
Jack’s hands moved down to my hips to yank at my boxer briefs. I grabbed his shoulders to keep from flailing and did my best to inhale through my nose while he took complete possession of my mouth.
He pulled off long enough to finish stripping the last of our clothes off until I finally, finally got a look at his dick.
Surrounded by a nest of dark golden curls, it arced up over his lower belly. The tip was deep pink and shiny with precum. His balls hung low and brushed against his inner thighs as he moved toward me again. A strangled sound escaped my throat, and saliva filled my mouth.
When Jack’s eyes met mine, I made another needy noise. Words were gone, and all that was left was stark desperation.
He took his time with me, kissing up my body again and teasing my shaft with the tip of his tongue.
I vaguely wondered what would happen if I came suddenly on his face with a relieved and disappointed cry.
Thankfully, he moved up and replaced his mouth with his hand, slick with lube from a bottle he’d fished from a bedside table drawer.
His hand gripped and squeezed me while his mouth whispered words of encouragement into my ear. “You’re so hot like this. Beautiful… Those noises you make… Bird… Fuck. You’re killing me…”
I arched up into his grip, begging for more, but instead of his slick hand moving faster on my cock, his fingers moved behind my sac to my hole. My entire body tightened in anticipation.
“Shh,” he urged. “Relax, baby. That’s it. So good. Spread your legs for me. Good, good… Breathe…”
Jack’s fingertip slid inside of me. I clenched around it and arched my head back, silently screaming for more.
“Christ, you’re tight.” Jack’s words sounded slurred. “So hot. Fuck, Hawk.”
His slick finger moved in and out, reaching deeper and searching for just the right spot. “J-jack. There. Oh god. Right there.”
Sweat beaded at my hairline. My entire body was locked and loaded, every cell ready to open fire on my nerves.
“So fucking sexy,” Jack continued, almost talking to himself. His long frame was stretched out beside me, and his mouth searched for new patches of skin on my neck to nibble as he slowly added another finger inside me. And then another.
I sucked in a breath and tried to relax again, but it was tricky when my whole body was overloaded with sensation.
Pleasure and fullness and a quick bite of pain that, strangely enough, only heightened the pleasure.
My legs shook and my abs quivered from the effort of keeping my body together when it wanted to fly into a thousand pieces.
“Want you, Jack,” I murmured, because those words for this man had become such a part of me that now they played on an endless loop in my brain. “Want you, want you, want you.”
“You have me.” He pressed a kiss to my belly button. “I’m right here with you, baby.”
The urge to ask him to fuck me again sat frozen on my tongue as I realized those weren’t quite the right words. This wasn’t fucking—just like Jack had said it wouldn’t be. This was bigger. More tender. More consuming.
“Then please.” I pushed at his wrist, wordlessly telling him I needed more than fingers now. “Please.”
When Jack finally moved to put on a condom, I watched with rapt attention. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this experience. There was always the chance that he would rethink this—us—and I wanted to remember it with such clarity I could replay it over and over in my memory.
He moved between my legs and pushed my knees up toward my chest before grabbing a pillow and shoving it under my hips. When his gaze landed on my prepped hole, heat flared in his eyes.
Turning Jack on was the hottest thing I’d ever done.
I reached down to grab his thigh as he began to push against my opening. His eyes flicked to mine with a question, and I nodded, because whatever he was asking, the answer was yes.
He was big enough to stretch me past my comfort level. I tried to hold back the wince, but he noticed anyway. “Deep breath. That’s it. Push out. Good. Oh fuck, Hawk… fuck, you’re so tight. Fuck.”