I yelped as Jared curled his fingers around my panties and tugged. They came apart, and he tossed the ripped scrap of fabric aside. His control was slipping the leash as much as mine was.
“Do you have a condom?” I shoved my own fingers inside myself, bucking as my hair fell down over my shoulders.
Jared swore. “No.”
“Shit,” I said between breaths. “Okay.”
“Are you on the pill?”
I shook my head. “No.” Hormonal birth control made me a crazy person, and I hadn’t seen the point in taking it when I didn’t have regular sex. I was regretting that now.
He closed his eyes for a beat, then moved his hands to my hips once more. I ground myself against him like before, but without the layers of fabric separating us. We groaned in unison. My breaths became harsh as I rode against his cock, desperate for an orgasm.
He was right there. I could shift the angle of my hips, use my hand to angle him ever so slightly, and I’d feel him where I wanted him most. I wanted to. I was desperate to. But I didn’t.
Jared used his hands to guide my hips, pressing me down against his hard shaft as my desire made our movements slick. His neck muscles were stark, his biceps straining at the fabric of his sleeves.
“I want you so fucking much,” he rasped, his eyes wild.
“I know,” I panted.
He groaned, shoving my hips back and forth as I twisted my hands into his tee for purchase. The mattress groaned.
And I couldn’t take it anymore. Lust had addled my brain to the point where all I could think about was how badly I wanted to come. All I knew was how good he looked and how much I wanted him. I reached between us and angled him upward-then impaled myself. I fell forward, moaning.
His eyes widened as one hand flew to the back of my head, twisting into my hair. “Iris-” He bit my name off with a groan, his hips bucking beneath me.
I gasped, clinging to him for dear life. Then I was on my back and Jared was holding my knees in the crook of his elbow, driving himself inside me so deep I could think of nothing else.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, eyes wild as he pistoned into me.
I bunched the fabric of my nightgown out of the way and did as he ordered. I felt him entering me, felt the taut skin of his shaft against my fingers, my wetness coating him. Within seconds of my fingers making contact with my clit, my orgasm finally- finally
-detonated.
Every muscle in my body clenched as I arched off the bed. I let out a cry through clenched teeth, riding the intensity of my pleasure until it felt like I’d fly apart. Distantly, I heard Jared swearing. I felt his movements become jerky and uncoordinated. I squeezed my thighs against his arms as he held my knees up, his hands finding my ass to lift me up for a deeper angle.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I knew was the most intense orgasm of my life was blinding me to everything but pleasure.
“Iris-“
I opened my eyes to see Jared clench his teeth. A second later, he pulled out of me and spilled his seed all over my stomach and thighs and sex. All over the hand that was still busy wringing the last notes of pleasure from my orgasm. I trembled, gasping for breath, feeling the heat of his orgasm on my skin. My fingers dragged through it as another, smaller wave of pleasure washed over me.
Finally done, I collapsed onto the pillows as Jared’s gaze took in the mess of my midsection. His thumbs stroked the inside of my thighs, spreading the evidence of his own pleasure over my skin. His breaths were heavy, his cheeks red.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked, dazed.
The sight of my usually surly, confident, competent boss so out of sorts wrung a laugh out of my exhausted body. I squeezed him with my knees in response.
He let out a long breath, then extricated his limbs from mine and padded to the bathroom. The sink ran for a few seconds, and he came back with his pants on properly and a wet washcloth in his hands. When he ran it over my skin in gentle strokes, the washcloth was warm and damp. I melted onto the bed and let him care for me, still too dazed and pleasantly numb to think about the consequences of what we’d just done.
Jared’s POV
Iris looked like a slumbering angel on the bed, her lids heavy, body relaxed. I took my time washing her, enjoying the sight of her mussed hair and crumpled nightgown. She’d made no move to cover herself, so I found myself admiring the curve of her breasts, the shape of her nipples, the way her stomach dipped at the navel.
And lower, the way the petals of her sex glistened in the moonlight.
I found myself liking her like this. Undone. Sated. Mine.
She shivered as I ran my fingers over the side of her breast, a small plaintive noise coming from her throat. I huffed a laugh, letting my hands run down her hips, where I noticed red marks that my fingers must have left. I’d been rough with her. Rougher than I’d intended to be.
Leaning over, I kissed the marred skin. She shifted, her fingers sliding through my hair in a tender caress. I wasn’t ready to let this moment end. Her skin was warm and soft, and she was more relaxed than I’d ever seen her. Hell, I was more relaxed than I’d been in a long time.
In this room, with the curtains open to reveal the expanse of ocean, the big bed with fluffy duvet and feather pillows, we were in a cocoon. Nothing else existed.
I ran my lips along the crook of her hip and kissed the edge of her core, my lips tracing her softness there. With my fingers, I spread her open.
“You’re insatiable,” she complained.
I glanced up to see her watching me, one arm curled behind her head while the other pushed the crumpled nightgown out of the way.
I grinned and curled my hands around her thighs to spread her open for me. And I tasted her. She let out a harsh breath, her hand clenching into the silky fabric of her pajamas. I smiled against her skin and took my time. The taste of her drove me crazy. The smell of her made me hard. I lost myself for a few minutes, feeling the way her hips rolled in response to my ministrations.
This wasn’t like me. Later, I would look back and wonder how I’d gotten so caught up in this woman. When did it start? Why did it happen?
But in that moment, there were no thoughts other than pure, unadulterated need. A need to claim her. To possess her. To explore every inch of her body and uncover all its secrets.
Like the way she gasped when I slid a finger inside her as my tongue worked her clit. Or how she made a special kind of noise when I slipped that finger lower, teasing the rim of her ass. Or how her chest became flushed when she came, and how she said my name like a prayer in the throes of it.
I was drunk with the sight of her, with a deeper kind of lust than what I’d experienced before. She wasn’t just a pretty accessory I wore on my arm; she was clever and funny and sensual. She made me feel like there was a whole new side of life that I hadn’t even known existed. I wanted to see the world through her eyes. I wanted her to tease me with her half-grin and poke me in the ribs with her elbow.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.