I let the towel drop, heat flushing my skin as Jalen devoured me with his gaze.
“Are you sure?”
I could hear the need in his voice, see it on his face, but he’d proven this week that he could put my needs above his own. If I told him that I didn’t want him to touch me, he wouldn’t.
“I’m sure,” I said as I reached out. I carefully unbuttoned his shirt, surprised that my hands were steady. “No more lies or half-truths. I want us to be honest with each other about who we are and what we want. I want us to be able to trust each other with everything.”
He caught my hands as I finished the last button. “I want that too.” He raised my hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “I will probably fuck up again. You can pretty much count on it. But I will try every day to be the man you deserve.”
I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his. “That right there is more important than a false promise of perfection.”
He smiled at me. “Does that mean I get a reward?”
I smiled back as I pushed his shirt off his shoulders. “I think one can be arranged.”
My hands moved across his broad shoulders and down his arms, his muscles firm under my palms. Back up again and then across to his chest. I went slower this time, exploring each dip and curve. Just enough hair to show that he didn’t wax or shave, but not so much that it took away from the work of art that was his body. I could see the definition of muscle in his pecs, his abs, but he wasn’t so cut that it looked unnatural. He’d been blessed with good genes and took care of himself, but not so fanatically that he obsessed over working out. Some women might like the bulging muscles and veiny arms, but in my mind, Jalen’s body was perfection.
I scraped a nail across a nipple, and it tightened. I did it to the other one, and Jalen muttered a curse. I smiled and ran my fingers down his abs to the dark hair below his bellybutton. I loved how men’s bodies, with their v-grooves and their happy trails, blatantly pointed to the body part they prized the most.
I leaned forward and used my tongue to trace circles around one nipple, then the other. My hands were busy undoing his pants when he put his hand on the back of my head, applying pressure until I realized what he wanted. I worked over the sensitive skin with tongue and teeth, biting harder and harder until his entire body jerked.
“Fuck, Rona,” he groaned.
His hand tightened in my hair, pulling on it until I released his nipple with a wet sound. His mouth slammed into mine, and he wrapped his free arm around me, crushing me against his chest. I gasped, and he took advantage of my parted lips to invade my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel his possessiveness in the way he held my body against his, the way his lips and teeth bruised my mouth.
My nipples hardened as his chest hair scratched the sensitive skin, and I moaned, nails digging into his hips as I tried to pull him closer. I growled in frustration as his pants got in the way.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I protested as I pulled away.
He tried to grab me, but I’d refocused my attention on getting him naked as quickly as possible. I finished unzipping him and grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear, yanking them both down to his knees. I ran my hands up his thighs, then back around to his ass. Damn, I loved his ass. One of my neighbors in Hell’s Kitchen used to say that someone’s ass was, “So tight I could bounce a quarter off it.” I wasn’t sure that was actually possible, but if it could’ve been on anyone’s ass, it’d be his.
Then there was his cock. Thick enough that when he was hard, I couldn’t wrap my fingers around it. Over average in length, but not too long. Some women might like that their man hit their cervix with every stroke, but not me. In theory, if the conditions were just right, it would spark off a whole other sort of orgasm, but I wasn’t exactly itching to try. He could make me come hard enough to see spots without that particular maneuver.
I put my hand on his chest and pushed. He let himself fall backward, and I wasted no time removing his pants the rest of the way. Now that he was completely and wonderfully naked, I climbed up onto the bed as well. He watched me as I moved up his body until I was straddling his thighs. I kept my eyes locked on his as I grasped his cock and held it in place. I lifted up, maneuvering myself bit by bit until I was able to place the tip of him at my entrance.
I was wet enough that the head slipped right into me, but the rest had to be done at a much slower pace. I wasn’t nearly ready enough.
“You’re too fucking tight,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Like a fucking vice.”
I dug my nails into his stomach as I dropped another inch. “Fuck, J! Fuck! Dammit!”
“Does that help?” he asked, a strangled laugh escaping.
I glared at him. “You’re not exactly small, asshole.”
He grinned and slid his hands up the backs of my thighs to my ass. I sucked in a breath as one finger slipped between my cheeks. He rubbed the tip of his finger against the puckered muscle but didn’t try to push inside.
“One day, I’m going to discover how it feels to be inside your ass.”
He sounded so sure of himself that I almost nodded in agreement before common sense clicked in, and I thought about what it might feel like to have Jalen’s huge cock trying to fit into that virgin territory.
“You can barely fit in my pussy,” I said breathlessly. He was half-way inside now, and my body felt like it was being split in half.
Oral sex would’ve made this a hell of a lot easier.
“Have you ever done it before?”
I shook my head and started to reach down to play with my clit. He grabbed my hand, stopping me, and then replaced my hand with his.
“I can make you want it,” he said, his finger making firm circles over my asshole as his other fingers played with my clit.
“How?” I grunted as I took another inch.
“I’d have you lay on your stomach, and I’d start with my tongue. Get you nice and wet.” My muscles fluttered as he sank a little lower, and he cursed before continuing, “Have you ever been rimmed before?”
I shook my head. I’d never even considered it.
“I’ll show you how it’s done. Lick you open, then slide a finger inside. Just one to start with, but it’ll feel huge at first. I’ll go slow, letting you get used to it as I work in spit and lube.”
The fingers on my clit moved faster, rubbing back and forth, then in a circle, and he watched my face with an intensity that made me shiver.
“When you’ve just gotten used to one finger, I’ll push a second one in, twisting and stretching. It’ll burn, giving you little twinges of sharper pain, but I’ll start working your clit then.”
His fingers pressed down on my clit, sending a rush of liquid over his cock, allowing me to slip lower on him until only an inch remained. If I hadn’t taken all of him before, I might’ve doubted that I could now.
“Good girl,” he murmured as I gasped and squirmed on top of him. His fingers were doing amazing things to my clit, and my pussy felt impossibly full in this position. “Do you think I’ll be able to make you ready with just two fingers, or should I plan to use a third?”
My head swam. We’d fit together fine before, and I knew it was just the difference of position and preparation making it more difficult this time, but just because he fit in my pussy didn’t mean he could fit everywhere. Could my ass really take him? I cursed as I fell the last bit, his cock lodged completely inside me.
“I think I’ll need a third finger.” His voice was rough. “Maybe you’ll ask for even more.”
More?
I opened my eyes to find him watching me.
“Maybe you’ll want more than two fingers, or even three,” he said again. “But three would be enough to make sure I didn’t hurt you but still keep you nice and tight.”
I splayed my hands out on his stomach and moved back and forth with deliberation, adjusting to the new position and how it changed the w
ay he moved inside me. He put his hands on my hips, fingers flexing, but not pushing me to go at his pace. For the moment, he was letting me have control.
I rose up on my knees, keeping my eyes on his face as I sank back down. I swiveled my hips, leaning forward enough for the base of him to rub against my clit. Over and over I repeated the motions. Up. Down. Around. Up. Down. Around.
“You have no idea how big of a turn-on it is to watch you like this.” He slid his hands up my sides and around to cup my breasts. He pushed them together, then let them fall back to their natural position. His hands moved across my torso, fingers tracing my scar. “Does it bother you?”
“What?” A familiar tightness was starting low in my belly.
“Me touching your scar. Does it bother you?”
I shook my head. “You don’t act like it disgusts you.”
He sat up, wrapping his arms around me. He lowered his head, pressing his lips between my breasts so that he was kissing the place where the scar began. “It doesn’t. It’s a part of who you are.”
I linked my fingers behind his neck, taking advantage of the new position to move faster. I used my grip for leverage and leaned back, working my hips up and down. He put a hand on the small of my back, giving me extra support. Sweat glistened on my skin, and the only sounds in the room were of our ragged breathing and the slap of flesh on flesh as our bodies came together again and again.
His free hand moved to one of my breasts, covering it. He squeezed, and I shivered. He pinched my nipple, and I moaned. Each extra little jolt fed the fire burning deep in my belly, pushing me toward the point where it would finally consume me.
It didn’t matter that we’d only slept together a couple of times or that we hadn’t known each other that long. He knew exactly what I needed, even more than I did myself.
As I leaned farther back, his mouth replaced his hand. He took my nipple between his lips, worrying at it with his teeth. Light pressure, then increasing it more and more until the pressure became a pain, and I cried out. He licked along the scar between my breasts, then up over the soft skin until he arrived at my other nipple.
“J, please, please, please, please,” I begged. My movements were frantic now, little jerks of my hips as I desperately sought release. Breaths came in ragged sobs, and I squeezed my eyes closed, every cell straining toward climax.
“You can do it.” He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck. “Make yourself come. Come on my cock.”
Fuck.
“That’s it, baby. Use my cock to get yourself off.” His voice had taken on this gravelly tone that made me even wetter. “Let me see those tits bounce. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Let me see you come. You’re so fucking hot when you come.”
I shuddered, my muscles quivering as everything inside me tensed.
“Dammit!” he growled. “Keep squeezing my cock like that and I won’t last much longer.”
“Come with me,” I begged. “I want to feel you come inside me while I’m coming.”
I practically threw myself forward, grabbing at his shoulders as I ground down on him, my throbbing clit sending sparks of painful pleasure through me until I finally came with a wordless cry. He gripped me tight, body twitching against mine as he followed, emptying himself inside me.
We still had work to do on this relationship and returning to Fort Collins tomorrow wouldn’t make things any easier, but we were in this together, and I believed we could make it. Still, I was glad we’d have the night here in our little bubble, far away from the outside world.
Thirty-Five
He brought his hand down on my ass with a resounding smack, and I moaned in pleasure even as the pain spread out from where my skin burned. My ass had to be a bright shade of red by now, and I knew sitting after this was going to be an issue, but at least I worked a job where I didn’t need to be behind a desk all the time.
“You have the best ass,” Jalen said as he smoothed his hand over the burning flesh, the gentle touch the perfect balance to the sharp slap he’d given seconds ago.
“Yours isn’t bad either,” I said, my breathing heavy and sharp. “Does that mean I get to spank you next?”
He chuckled and smacked the other side of my ass before sliding his hand down between my legs. I gave a small yelp as he shoved two fingers inside me, and he laughed again.
“Always wet for me, aren’t you?” He twisted his fingers, and I pushed back against his hand. His free hand smoothed up my spine and then back down again before he slapped my ass once more. “What do you think we should do about that?”
“Fuck me,” I begged. “Fuck me, please.”
He pulled his fingers out and buried himself inside me with one thrust. I cried out, coming again as he bottomed out. Even as I shook with the force of my orgasm, he pounded into me, not giving me the slightest respite.
We’d gotten back a few hours ago, thanks to his private jet, and he’d taken me to his place after asking if I wanted to go to my apartment. We’d barely made it through the door before we were stripping off our clothes. This was round two, and he’d already made me come three times. My entire body was on the edge, primed for another climax, and I knew he’d give it to me.
Every stroke hit me deep, hard enough to be painful, or at least they would have been if I hadn’t been flooded with endorphins. I’d feel it tomorrow for sure – probably sooner – but right now, all I felt was good. Amazing, actually. Like every cell in my body was vibrating, full of ecstasy, just waiting to be released.
“Damn, I love you like this.” He slammed into me hard enough to make me gasp. “Ass in the air, those firm tits of yours jiggling.”
He reached beneath me to squeeze both of my breasts, then rolled my nipples between his fingers. I whimpered, the already tender flesh sending pain shooting through me. He’d been pinching, biting, and sucking on my nipples from the beginning, and they were excruciatingly sensitive at the moment.
“I’ve been a little rough on you, baby.” He slid his hand across my stomach to slip a finger over my clit. I shuddered, tightening around Jalen until he cursed. “Or maybe not rough enough.”
A moment later, I felt his finger pressing against my asshole. My eyelids fluttered as he pushed just the tip past the ring of muscle. The burn that would have made me gasp instead made me cry out as I came again. And again. One orgasm rolled into another until he finished with a loud groan.
The two of us collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of sweaty, trembling limbs. I knew we’d sleep now, exhausted enough that I knew we’d both go under soon. We’d need to get up eventually, but right now, I was content where I was. We’d doze, then do what was necessary when we woke again.
Tomorrow was a new day, a new start. My past was gone. Jalen and I had worked out things between us. Clay and I were friends again. I had a job I enjoyed and one I was good at. One that would allow me to help people the way I’d always wanted. I’d keep Burkart Investigations going and grow it into something that would have made Adare proud. And I’d offer my services to Jenna when she and the FBI worked on human trafficking cases.
I’d be a part of making the world better, making my mother proud of me.
And I’d have a life with Jalen.
I was feeling more optimistic about life than I ever had before.
It was time to start living.
THE END
The New Pleasures series continues in Played by Him. Turn the page for a free preview.
Thirty-Six
Preview: Played by Him
I studied my reflection in the mirror, a strange feeling of self-consciousness attached to the happiness I’d been feeling ever since we’d arrived back in Fort Collins, Colorado. It wasn’t really about my appearance. I was used to being self-conscious about that, wondering if my scar was showing, if the shirt I was wearing was long enough to cover everything when I moved, if the neck was high enough. Now, when I looked in the mirror and saw the familiar ash blonde hair and china blue eyes, I wondered if people sa
w beyond that, if they could see the way I felt. Even though I knew it was silly, I felt like I should be glowing or something.
I’d had moments of happiness with Clay as a friend and as a lover. Moments with Uncle Anton where I’d forgotten that I should have had a different path. My life since my mother’s death hadn’t been all doom and gloom, but it hadn’t been like this either. It wasn’t about perfect circumstances or not being sad over Adare’s death. It was about letting myself see a positive future, and with Jalen, with this life I had begun to build here, I could see it.
I turned away from the mirror and headed back into the office. I’d spent the last couple hours organizing and sorting through things. It had been less than two weeks since Adare’s death and I hadn’t exactly taken the time to go through Adare’s things. Even when she’d been dying, she’d kept up with the bills, with the clients, and when I found the envelope with my name on it, I knew why.
I walked back over to the desk and sat in the chair. The envelope sat on the top of the desk and I stared at it, trying to work up the courage to open it.
This was how I knew I was really happy. Even the grief at losing Adare wasn’t the sharp, debilitating agony that I’d known in the past. I missed her, and that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, but I’d known her well enough to know that she wanted me to be happy.
I let out a slow breath, picked up the envelope and opened it.
Rona,
I’m guessing, right now, you’re pretty pissed at me for not telling you I was sick. I’m sorry about that. I’m sure we had this discussion at some point, and this letter isn’t to go over it all again. It’s to reassure you that you can do this. I wouldn’t have left Burkart Investigations to you if I didn’t have faith that you could make it into everything I always wanted it to be. Don’t doubt yourself.
I’m getting close to the end now, and now I’ll ask you forgive me for taking liberties that I might not have yet earned.