her eyes shimmering.
At the end of another lazy lick, he fluttered his tongue against her clit then stroked it. When he took it into his mouth, he sucked and felt a tremor in her thighs. He rimmed her with one finger, gathered her moisture, and slowly inserted it, swirling inside her slick walls.
He groaned. He was hard, his cock digging into the mattress, but she wasn’t ready, and from the feel of her, so tight, so untried, he knew she couldn’t take him as deeply or roughly as he wanted. He pulled free then slipped two fingers inside her, widening them to stretch her, rubbing her channel, until he found the spot.
Suri cried out and arched her back, her pretty nipples pointing the ceiling.
He rubbed again, felt moisture drench his hand, and withdrew. He kissed a path up her body then rested on his elbows, giving her his weight, letting her feel the hard ridge trapped between them.
When she opened her eyes, she smiled. “Come inside me, Jackson.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, taking her mouth savagely. But she didn’t seem to mind. She bit his tongue then sucked on it. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted his hips, reached between their bodies and centered the tip of his cock at her entrance. Her pussy contracted, caressing the head. Lord, he’d never last. He’d have to make it up to her. She was too perfect. Too sexy for him to resist. Praying he wouldn’t ruin this for her, he flexed his ass and pushed inside.
Chapter Six
‡
S uri might not be experienced, but she’d read enough romance novels to have certain expectations. The hero was almost always careful to prime his heroine for sex. He wasn’t selfish or squeamish. He gave her what she needed, always putting her pleasure before his.
Jackson didn’t know it, but he’d just risen to star in her very own story, his tenderness lifting him far above any fictional hero. Every action since he’d joined her on the mattress had been perfect. She felt cherished. Safe. And now, so aroused she was quivering head to toe.
He was barely lodged inside her, just the tip and perhaps an inch of his length. His body trembled as he held still. He wasn’t deep enough to take away the ache. So she lifted her legs, wrapped them high over his hips, and squeezed to pull him into her.
He resisted, arching a brow.
“Jackson, I want more, please?” Maybe he wasn’t ready. Other than stroking his cock to acquaint herself with his girth and length, she’d done nothing to incite his lust.
Going with her instincts, she trailed her fingers down his broad chest, plucking at his hair, circling on his flat nipples.
He stayed suspended above her, watching her, his eyebrows lowering.
That expression probably scared the shit out of the enemy, but for her, it was like a jolt of female Viagra. More cream spilled down her channel.
He drew a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. Braced on his arms above her, he slowly drove inside her, pulling back, then gliding deeper—working his way inside her body in steady pulses.
Each stroke was better than the last. Her hips and thighs relaxed, her breaths evened into something just short of a pant. She began to move counter to his thrusts, greeting him, savoring the fact he was connecting their bodies in a very primal way.
But still, she wanted more. How could she encourage him to just let loose? He seemed to like her breasts, stealing glances as he’d stripped and rolled on his condom. So, she’d start there.
She cupped both breasts and pushed them up, massaging them then tweaking the tips.
His gaze locked on what her hands were doing, and his cock hardened inside, his thrusts quickening, deepening.
She lowered her lids and dug her head into the pillow, arching her back and writhing—not something she had to pretend she wanted to do, she simply went with her instincts.
As he tunneled deeper, pushing and pulling his cock through her channel, she pleasured herself, gliding a hand down her belly, and into the top of her
At the end of another lazy lick, he fluttered his tongue against her clit then stroked it. When he took it into his mouth, he sucked and felt a tremor in her thighs. He rimmed her with one finger, gathered her moisture, and slowly inserted it, swirling inside her slick walls.
He groaned. He was hard, his cock digging into the mattress, but she wasn’t ready, and from the feel of her, so tight, so untried, he knew she couldn’t take him as deeply or roughly as he wanted. He pulled free then slipped two fingers inside her, widening them to stretch her, rubbing her channel, until he found the spot.
Suri cried out and arched her back, her pretty nipples pointing the ceiling.
He rubbed again, felt moisture drench his hand, and withdrew. He kissed a path up her body then rested on his elbows, giving her his weight, letting her feel the hard ridge trapped between them.
When she opened her eyes, she smiled. “Come inside me, Jackson.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, taking her mouth savagely. But she didn’t seem to mind. She bit his tongue then sucked on it. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted his hips, reached between their bodies and centered the tip of his cock at her entrance. Her pussy contracted, caressing the head. Lord, he’d never last. He’d have to make it up to her. She was too perfect. Too sexy for him to resist. Praying he wouldn’t ruin this for her, he flexed his ass and pushed inside.
Chapter Six
‡
S uri might not be experienced, but she’d read enough romance novels to have certain expectations. The hero was almost always careful to prime his heroine for sex. He wasn’t selfish or squeamish. He gave her what she needed, always putting her pleasure before his.
Jackson didn’t know it, but he’d just risen to star in her very own story, his tenderness lifting him far above any fictional hero. Every action since he’d joined her on the mattress had been perfect. She felt cherished. Safe. And now, so aroused she was quivering head to toe.
He was barely lodged inside her, just the tip and perhaps an inch of his length. His body trembled as he held still. He wasn’t deep enough to take away the ache. So she lifted her legs, wrapped them high over his hips, and squeezed to pull him into her.
He resisted, arching a brow.
“Jackson, I want more, please?” Maybe he wasn’t ready. Other than stroking his cock to acquaint herself with his girth and length, she’d done nothing to incite his lust.
Going with her instincts, she trailed her fingers down his broad chest, plucking at his hair, circling on his flat nipples.
He stayed suspended above her, watching her, his eyebrows lowering.
That expression probably scared the shit out of the enemy, but for her, it was like a jolt of female Viagra. More cream spilled down her channel.
He drew a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. Braced on his arms above her, he slowly drove inside her, pulling back, then gliding deeper—working his way inside her body in steady pulses.
Each stroke was better than the last. Her hips and thighs relaxed, her breaths evened into something just short of a pant. She began to move counter to his thrusts, greeting him, savoring the fact he was connecting their bodies in a very primal way.
But still, she wanted more. How could she encourage him to just let loose? He seemed to like her breasts, stealing glances as he’d stripped and rolled on his condom. So, she’d start there.
She cupped both breasts and pushed them up, massaging them then tweaking the tips.
His gaze locked on what her hands were doing, and his cock hardened inside, his thrusts quickening, deepening.
She lowered her lids and dug her head into the pillow, arching her back and writhing—not something she had to pretend she wanted to do, she simply went with her instincts.
As he tunneled deeper, pushing and pulling his cock through her channel, she pleasured herself, gliding a hand down her belly, and into the top of her
Similar Books
