Joanna Wylde: Serendipity

But he couldn't do that, not until she asked for it, he reminded himself. He had made a promise; he couldn't afford to blow this. Not if he wanted to keep her in his life.

He allowed his fingers to drift lower, until he could feel the thatch of her hair under the fabric. He pushed one finger experimentally toward the opening there, and moisture started soaking the fabric. She was definitely enjoying this, even though she seemed to be doing everything in her power not to show it.

He let the finger trail up, smoothing its way across the tiny nubbin of her clit. She twitched, and his hips thrust against her spasmodically. She pressed back into him, trying to escape his finger. Instead, she pushed against his cock so hard he thought he might explode.

He wiggled his finger, and was answered by a wiggling of her little butt. He sighed in pleasure, then started moving his fingers in earnest.

He pressed down against her clit, rubbing it back and forth even as he applied the pressure. The fabric was becoming soaked with her juices, and her breath was coming fast.

So was his, and against his will he started rubbing his cock against her ass. It jutted up against her, sliding back and forth in her crack, cradling his erection.

His fingers moved more quickly, and he tried pushing into her a bit with them. The fabric wouldn't let him, though. He briefly considered trying to work the fabric up, but he was afraid to stop moving for even a second. He didn't want to give her a chance to change her mind; something he knew would happen if he gave her any time to think. Instead he slid one finger on each side of her clit, tugging and pulling it back and forth, increasing the tempo of his movements as her breathing caught and become ragged.

He could feel the blood in his body pooling in his groin, and he started thrusting against her body, rubbing his engorged flesh between them. He realized that by pushing harder against her clit with his hand, he could not only bring her more pleasure, but she would jerk her hips back into him. Each jerk pushed his cock deeper between her ass cheeks. His breath started growing ragged.

She was grinding against his hand now, making ragged, whimpering noises and muttering something under her breath. He pulled her even more tightly against him, his hips writhing slowly against her from one side while his hand worked her harder and harder from the other side. She jerked against him spasmodically, grunting and moaning. He knew she was close. He straightened his index and middle fingers, pulled the fabric taut as he thrust them into the mouth of her cunt. He rubbed back and forth roughly, dragging the fabric roughly across her swollen flesh. She stiffened, spasmed against him and a keening noise came out of her mouth.

Unable to control himself, he thrust against her back violently. In that instant she came, squealing, her ass cheeks tightening around his bulging cock. The squeeze was so strong it was almost painful. He thrust once more, then his own orgasm hit him. He gasped; clutching her pelvis to him so hard there would be bruises in the morning, and spraying his seed into the fabric of her shift. Again and again he jerked against her in ecstasy, grunting harshly into the mass of her hair.

Gradually the sensations faded, and he loosened his grip on her body. Neither of them spoke in the darkness. He had lost control; he'd had no intention of coming himself. His entire goal had been to give her pleasure, not to explode all over her like an untried youth.

He would make it up to her.

Gently moving away from her, he pulled her damp shift over her head and threw it on the floor. Then he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, propping himself up on one arm. She stared up at him with a dazed expression. A wave of smug pleasure washed through him. She'd been as affected by his touch as he'd been by hers, regardless of his lack of control. She opened her mouth and took in a breath, preparing to speak.

Before she could say anything, he covered her mouth with his. His tongue swept in, exploring her depths. His fingers found her clit again, still dripping and hot from her orgasm. She reacted to his touch instantly, her hips rising under his touch and her arms reaching up to clench his shoulders.

He thrust his fingers into her hot opening roughly, this time without the fabric to separate them. She was slippery and wet, pulling him to her. He lifted his mouth from hers, and she stared up at him, eyes pleading for another release.

"Please," she whispered. "I need—"

He cut her off with another long, slow kiss, all the while working her clit and exploring her cunt. She squirmed against him, moaning into his mouth. Then he sat up abruptly and stepped off the bed. Wrapping one hand around each of her ankles, he pulled her body toward the edge, kneeling between her spread legs. Draping one leg over each of his shoulders, he leaned forward and touched his tongue to her clit.

Delicately, he parted the folds of her flesh, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. He opened his mouth wider and sucked gently. She squirmed and bucked against him, her entire body shivering.

"That feels so good," she gasped. He paused, looking up to find her leaning back on her arms and watching him. The sight of her, flushed with passion, her lips bruised by his kiss, was incredibly erotic, but it wasn't enough. He wanted her screaming, losing control and begging him to fuck her.

His head dipped again, his lips and tongue tugging harder on her flesh. Again and again he thrust his tongue into her willing flesh, until she dropped back against the bed and started bucking against him. He wrapped his arms up and around her legs, holding her steady and renewed his attack.

She was twisting and moaning so much that he could tell she was getting close to her completion. He stabbed into her with a series of tongue thrusts, then started wiggling his tongue back and forth against her stiffened clit. She shrieked, her entire body tensing, and came with a heave of her hips against his mouth.

He pulled her down into his arms, cradling her body against his and kissing her forehead and face. She was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. With shock, Jax realized she was crying. He pressed her head to his chest as a series of sobs shook her body.

What the hell was going on? He'd been trying to please her, not make her cry.

Carefully lifting her limp body, he laid her in the bed and crawled in next to her, pulling her against him. She cried in silence for a while, then snuffled noisily, turning her head away from him.

"Let's go to sleep," she said finally, to his surprise. Didn't she want to talk? Women always wanted to talk, especially when they'd been crying. He was out of his depth.

"Sarai, I think—" he started to say, but she cut him off.

"No, I just want to go to sleep," she said. "I said you could touch me. Talking wasn't part of the deal, so shut up."

She was right. Talking hadn't been part of the deal.

Eventually her breathing evened out and he could tell she really was asleep. His own rest was harder to find, his thoughts racing as the hours passed. If he couldn't win her over with sex and she wouldn't even talk to him, what chance did he have of convincing her to stay with him?

Three weeks, he reminded himself. Three weeks, and then he was bound to leave.

There had to be a way to convince her she needed him as much as he needed her. He just had to find it.

Sarai slid slowly and quietly out of Jax's embrace. He was sleeping deeply, his sooty black eyelashes resting against his cheeks. She'd awakened to find him holding her close, his body wrapped around hers protectively. It felt good to be held, something she hardly dared admit to herself. She felt safe in his arms.