Sylvia Day - Aftershock

I wanted him inside me.

He lowered the zipper of my skirt, then went to work on the buttons of my blouse. All the while, his lips were at my throat, his tongue gliding along my fluttering pulse.

“I’m going to lick you up,” he promised, his words a whisper of air against my damp skin.

I wrapped my hands around him, finding him hot and wet. He was so aroused he was dribbling precum in a steady stream. His virility was a potent aphrodisiac, making me as hot and wet as he was. My sex was slick with wanting, tightening hungrily, aching to be filled with the thick shaft I was stroking so lovingly.

Lifting my fingers to my mouth, I tasted him, feeling as if I became intoxicated by his rich, heady flavor.

He watched me, cursing softly. His hands tightened on the silk of my blouse and buttons popped off and rolled onto the floor.

“I wanted you naked,” he muttered, grabbing me by the waist and flipping me around, folding me facedown over the edge of the bed. “Next time.”

Shoving my loosened skirt up my hips, he exposed my ass. He cupped the back of my knee in his hand and pushed my leg up onto the bed, opening me. Then his hands were on the twin curves of my buttocks, squeezing them. His breath gusted hot and quick over my sensitive skin, his teeth scraping and gently biting.

“God, you were made for fucking,” he said gruffly. “You were built just to drive me out of my mind.”

One finger slid beneath the lace of my thong, running below it from the small of my back to the damp flesh between my legs. His knuckle brushed against my sex, and I quivered, gasping as a tremor shook my core.

The lace snapped in his grip, and I jolted, shocked by the sharp, quick tug against my skin and the harsh sound of the material rending. He blanketed me, his feverishly hot body covering my back, his hands pushing underneath me to cup my swollen breasts. His cock lay hot and thick between the cheeks of my ass, and he thrust, pushing the steely length between them.

The sensation of being overpowered, helpless, had me primed to come. A man so ragingly aroused he was tearing my clothes off had me spread for the taking. Jax’s desire was dizzying and irresistible. As much as I loved his body, he loved mine. Maybe more, which seemed impossible, but he always managed to make me feel that way.

“Don’t wait,” I begged, my hips rocking back against him.

“What do you want, baby?” he crooned, massaging the tight points of my nipples with clever fingers. “Tell me what you need.”

I was panting, writhing, teased by the feeling of his heavy sac resting against the wet lips of my sex. “Fuck me, Jax. Fuck me hard.”

He nuzzled against my temple. “You want this?”

With a shift of his hips, the broad head of his cock was notched into the clenching opening of my body. Pressure built as the crown pushed inside me, spreading me for the penetration of the hard shaft to follow.

I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut, trembling. He was everywhere. In every breath I sucked in...over every inch of my skin....

“Tight, baby,” he ground out between clenched teeth, withdrawing and pushing deeper. Slow, easy thrusts that worked him into me with every lunge. He groaned and gripped my desperately circling hips, holding me down as he fucked his way deeper. “Tight and creamy... Jesus, you feel amazing. I’m going to come so hard for you. I’m going to fill you up with it.”

My fingers clawed into the comforter. My eyes opened blindly, my lips parted to suck air into burning lungs. I fought against his hold, wanting him harder, faster. I caught movement in the corner of my eye and saw us reflected in the dressing mirror affixed to the inside of his walk-in closet door.

The clutch of my body tightened, trying to pull him in to where I needed him. Jax’s head turned to follow my gaze and he stilled, taking in the sight of him hunched over me, his slacks barely clinging to his upper thighs.

It was a lewd and decadent picture. Me, pinned and still fully clothed, my sex opened and penetrated by his massive cock; and Jax, firm buttocks tight with the force of a thrust, his biceps thick and flexing from the kneading of my breasts, his back glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration.

His mouth curved wickedly. “You like watching me fuck you.”

To prove it, he withdrew and thrust again, his entire body tightening as he sank farther into me. I whimpered. My sex sucked greedily at his cock; my nipples tightened painfully against his palms.

“Oh, yeah, you do,” he crooned in a darkly seductive voice. “I’m going to mirror the ceiling, Gia baby. You’re going to watch me worship this sexy body of yours every day and night. You’ll never forget why you’re putting up with the world outside our bed. It’s going to be seared into your brain. Every time you close your eyes, you’ll see me riding you until you can’t come any more.”

I climaxed. I couldn’t stop it. I cried out as the tension finally broke, pleasure arching my spine into a tight bow against his chest.

Jax growled and lost control, fucking me hard and fast, surging deep and erupting with a vicious curse. His teeth sank into my shoulder. He came inside me, chasing my orgasm with ragged groans, his body shaking violently with the force of his ejaculations.

It was too much. I couldn’t see, couldn’t think. My nails raked across the comforter, instinctively trying to pull me away from the flood of sensation, away from the spurting cock still plunging inside me, making me take more...feel more...when I couldn’t possible withstand it.

Jax kept me with him, trapped and possessed, a willing prisoner to the endless need between us.

Jax undressed me, washed his semen away with a warm washcloth, and arranged me on the bed. I was limp and breathless the whole time, and slightly irritated that he could move and think while I was a brainless mess of postorgasmic endorphins.

“You suck,” I told him when he finally sprawled on the bed beside me, gloriously naked.

He propped his head in his hand and grinned, his fingers running lightly down my cleavage to circle my navel. “Guess you missed the ten minutes it took for me to be able to stand up.”

“I’m taking you down for the count next time,” I grumbled.

“Mmm...” Leaning over me, he pressed his lips to mine. “I’m just happy there’s a next time. Lots of next times. You’ve got two years to make up for.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m not taking the blame. You walked. Whether or not I followed, you’re the one who bailed.”

“So I have two years to make up for.” He slid over me, kneeing my thighs open and settling between them. “I better get started.”

Reaching up, I brushed his hair back from his forehead. He was even more breathtaking after sex, his face softened and seemingly younger, his eyes bright and his smile boyishly charming. He looked happy and it twisted my heart to think I’d made him that way without even really trying.

Turning his head, he pressed his lips to my palm. “I love you.”

“Jax.” My eyes stung. “I used to dream about you saying that to me.”

“I told you a lot,” he confessed, “while you were sleeping.”

That hurt worse than thinking he’d never felt that way about me at all. “Will I ever understand why you put us through hell?”

The light in his eyes dimmed. His smile faded. “I’m afraid you will.”

Tension gripped his big frame, and I regretted bringing it up. I wrapped my legs around his hips, hugging him close.

“Let’s agree not to bring anything but us into our bed,” he murmured, running his nose along my cheek. “I want us to have someplace where it’s just you and me, a place where we can remember why nothing else really matters but what we’ve got.”