“Is everything okay?” he asked.
She twisted her fingers in front of her and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Before we do this, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Concerned, he closed the short distance between them and gently grabbed her hands, pulling them apart and forcing her to look up at him. “What’s going on, Tara? Are you having second thoughts about us tonight?” He hated to think that was a possibility, but he’d respect any decision she made.
“No . . .” She shook her head, causing her silky hair to swirl around her shoulders. “It’s just that . . . I haven’t had sex in six years.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Her confession momentarily rendered him speechless, but it certainly wasn’t any kind of deal breaker for him. “That’s a long time,” he said, rubbing his thumbs along the pulse point in her wrists. “Is there a specific reason?”
Her shoulder lifted in a bashful shrug. “Honestly, there hasn’t been anyone I’ve wanted to be with . . . until you.”
His breath left his lungs as he stared at her in stunned disbelief. Fucking hell. She was so beautiful, so sexy and goddamn tempting, it was hard to imagine that in six years no other man had had the pleasure of fucking this gorgeous woman. That she hadn’t been attracted to any other man enough to give her body over to one. Until now. With him.
She shifted uncertainly on her feet. “I just wanted you to know, in case things are . . . awkward at first.”
Remembering how she’d responded to him when he’d kissed her outside of the donut shop, how she’d nearly spontaneously combusted in his arms, there was no worry that anything about tonight would be even remotely uncomfortable. “Six years is a hell of a long time to be celibate,” he said, humor suffusing his voice. “Are you sure you’re ready to break that dry spell?”
“I’m sure, unless you’re suddenly having performance anxiety?” She raised a sassy brow, provoking him just as brazenly, back to the self-assured woman he enjoyed.
He chuckled. Oh, yeah, they were going to be just fine.
“Fucking tease,” he said on a low, sexual growl. “I’ll show you a performance.”
Gripping her waist, he took a few steps forward, at the same time guiding her backward, until her shoulders were pressed against the nearest vertical surface. He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her blouse and pushed the fabric up her torso and over her breasts. She automatically lifted her arms as he pulled the top over her head and dropped it to the floor. He reached around to unclasp her bra and added that lacy piece of lingerie to the pile next to her feet. He took a moment to look his fill of her gorgeous tits, round and full and perfectly shaped, watched for a few more seconds in avid appreciation how they trembled with each ragged breath she took.
Her anticipation was palpable, and he finally gave in to temptation, filling both of his hands with her soft, lush breasts and plucking her already stiff nipples with his fingers.
She moaned deep in her throat, her eyes glazing over with lust. “Jackson . . . my room is down the hall.”
“Right here is fine for now,” he murmured huskily as he lowered his mouth and kissed the side of her throat. “If I get you anywhere near a bed, I’m going to fucking lose control. There are way too many things I want to do to you before I have you spread out on a mattress for me to enjoy.”
She pushed her fingers into his hair, clutching the strands tight in her fists. He traced his tongue along her neck and felt the goose bumps rising on her skin and puckering the velvet-soft flesh of her areolas.
He smiled against her ear as he lightly skimmed his fingers down her stomach to the waistband of her jeans. “Just lean back against the wall and let me get you ready for my cock. I want your pussy nice and wet and slick, so a few orgasms before I fuck you ought to do the trick.”
Her breathing hitched, and already he felt her melting, her body yielding to his seduction just like he wanted. He unsnapped her jeans and lowered the zipper, letting his fingers graze over the silky fabric covering her mound in a lazy, promising caress.
She made an impatient sound in the back of her throat and pushed her hips against his hand. “Jackson . . . please.”
He lifted his head so he could look at her face, her full lips parted and damp from the sweep of her tongue. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, her eyes dark and delirious with need. A need he was solely responsible for, and that arousing knowledge made him harder than fucking granite.
Ignoring the insistent throb of his dick, he continued to slide his hand into her panties, watching the rapturous expression on her face as he glided two long fingers along her damp sex and lightly tweaked her swollen clit. She gasped and attempted to rock against his touch, brazenly trying to control the pressure and friction she needed to climax.
“Not yet, greedy girl,” he said, refusing to allow her to top him from the bottom. He wanted to be the one to give her every orgasm she had tonight. Wanted each and every one to be so fucking intense she’d crave more of him.
“Put your hands on your breasts,” he ordered in a low, deep voice. “Lift them to my mouth so I can suck on your nipples while my fingers fuck your pussy.”
She was quick to follow his command, pushing her tits up to his parted lips, presenting them like the offering they were. He licked across one pebbled tip, then the other, before drawing one deep into his mouth. Between her legs, he stroked her soft, wet flesh, his fingers mimicking the dip and swirl of his tongue on her breast.
Her head fell back against the wall, her entire body shuddering from the dual assault. She moved shamelessly against his palm, her hips instinctively thrusting, and this time he let her fuck his hand, let her ride his fingers as he pushed two deep inside her tight, slick core and rubbed the tips against that sensitive spot that made a soft cry escape her lips.
Knowing she was about to come, he lifted his head from her breasts with one last scrape of his teeth to her nipples, wanting to watch her expression as she climaxed. Wanting her to see him and know th
at he was the one making her fly apart.
“Look at me, Tara,” he commanded gruffly.
Her lashes fluttered open, her soft, hazy blue eyes meeting his desperately. Without words, she was begging him to give her the release her body was clamoring for. Another deep plunge of his fingers, another rhythmic caress of his thumb against that sweet spot between her legs, and she whimpered as she started to unravel from the inside out.