Jackson awoke to the most beautiful sight imaginable early the next morning. One he knew he could easily get used to. He was a side sleeper, and apparently so was Tara, because at some point during the night—after he’d fucked her a half dozen different ways—they’d ended up lying on her bed facing one another, their heads on individual pillows, their bodies less than a foot apart.
He smiled as he took in the view of Tara’s soft, delicate features as she slept, enjoying how peaceful and content she looked and loving the fact that he was responsible for that sated flush still tingeing her cheeks. Her dark hair spilled across her white pillow, her black eyelashes stood out as they swept across her creamy complexion, and her full lips were slightly parted, reminding him that there was one thing they hadn’t indulged in last night, and that was him feeling her warm, eager mouth sucking his cock.
The morning wood he’d woken up with throbbed at the erotic images filling his head. His unruly dick was acting as though it hadn’t been deep inside Tara’s pussy six times last night. Then again, Jackson was quickly coming to realize that he couldn’t get enough of her, didn’t want to, actually. And considering her avid reaction to every new sexual position he’d introduced her to, he was pretty damn sure the feeling was mutual.
He’d discovered that Tara’s body was like a flower, blooming after a long winter’s respite. With each touch and his unfiltered, explicit words, he’d awakened her desires, roused her passions, and it was so fucking hot to watch Tara give
herself over to all the carnal pleasures he’d coaxed—and sometimes demanded—from her gorgeous, responsive body.
She sighed softly in her sleep, and even that small sound had the ability to turn him on. The sheet was pulled up to her chest, and he had to seriously resist the urge to caress his fingers along her bare arm, to gently push her to her back, pull down the covers, and suck on her nipples until he had her writhing beneath him and begging for his cock.
He was so damn tempted, but he’d exhausted her last night, and she probably needed a break. So he decided to take a shower, then make her breakfast. But once she had food in her stomach, all bets were off, he thought with a smirk.
He moved off the bed without waking her and strolled naked into the adjoining bathroom, quietly closing the door. He turned on the shower to let the water get hot. As he waited, he saw toothpaste on the vanity, and since he didn’t have a toothbrush, he did the next best thing and washed his hands, then used his finger until his breath tasted minty fresh.
Stepping into the glass enclosure, he doused his entire body, then glanced at the array of feminine products on a rack in front of him. He had a choice between floral-smelling shampoo and fruity-scented body wash. Nothing even remotely masculine, but with limited options, he went for the peach shower gel.
He drizzled the thick liquid onto a pink mesh body scrubber and got the job done. He even used it to wash his hair. He rinsed off, using his palms to wick away the soap suds on his arms, his chest, and down his stomach. A frustrated groan escaped him as his fingers brushed across his stiff, aching erection. Fuck. He was never going to get through the morning with a persistent bulge in his pants if he didn’t give his cock what it wanted.
“You’re such a demanding fucker,” he muttered irritably to himself as he leaned his back against the tiled wall and wrapped his fingers tight around his length. He closed his eyes to summon any one of the fantasies he’d created with Tara last night as he started to jack off.
After experiencing Tara in the flesh, his dick was “meh” about getting a hand job, and not the least bit impressed with his efforts. Jesus. Not only a demanding fucker but now he was becoming a selective asshole, as well. Jackson dropped his head back and utilized all his normal tricks to get the job done. His shaft remained hard as steel and mocked his attempts to get him off. He swore beneath his breath and pumped harder, faster . . .
“Want some help with that?”
Jackson jumped at the sound of Tara’s soft, seductive voice. He’d been concentrating so hard he hadn’t heard her enter the bathroom and had no idea how long she’d been standing on the other side of the glass partition, watching him. Judging by the amusement curving her lips and the unmistakable lust flashing in her still-sleepy eyes, it had been a few minutes, at least.
Completely naked—yeah, he’d finally peeled away all her self-conscious tendencies last night—she opened the door and stepped inside the steamy shower, her head tipping seductively to the side. “Well?”
Her offer was one his dick wasn’t about to refuse. “Your soft hand would feel immensely better than mine,” he admitted with a sexy grin.
She stepped close to him so that the shower spray was hitting her backside. Placing a hand on his water-slick chest, she slowly skimmed it all the way down to his straining erection. She wrapped her fingers around him and gave him a tight squeeze as she pressed her body to his and placed a hot, arousing kiss on the side of his neck.
“How about my mouth?” she asked, her playful, inviting words skimming across his ear as she stroked his length and gently rubbed her thumb across the sensitive head. “How would that feel, Mr. Stone?”
He placed his hands on the curves of her hips and groaned like a dying man while his boner twitched blissfully in her hand. “Like fucking heaven on earth.”
“Sin number two coming right up,” she murmured huskily.
Jackson had that one memorized, seared into his memory: having her soft lips wrapped tight around his dick as she sucked him, her hot mouth taking him so fucking deep he’d hit the back of her throat . . .
She settled on her knees in front of him, and he angled the shower head so that the water hit her lower back and wouldn’t interfere with the pleasure she was about to bestow upon his anxious cock. She rubbed his muscled thighs with her palms and looked up at him, a sultry goddess at his feet. Her makeup from last night was slightly smudged beneath her eyes, and her hair was disheveled from the many times he’d pulled it, but it only made her look hotter. Sexier. Like a woman who’d been thoroughly, repeatedly fucked, by him.
“Put your hands in my hair like you told me you want to,” she urged in a provocative voice. “Show me how you like to be sucked.”
A strangled laugh caught in his throat. “Trust me, baby. There’s no wrong way.” But that didn’t stop him from sliding his fingers into those silky strands and gripping them securely in his fist. “Just feeling your soft, warm mouth surrounding my cock is going to drive me insane.”
“Good.”
He caught the barest hint of a devious smile right before she leaned forward and her parted lips slid down the length of his shaft. Taking him, captivating him, enthralling him—and making his goddamn dick thrum with pure happiness. This was exactly what the fucker wanted, not that Jackson was about to argue, because Jesus, his hand couldn’t even come close to competing with the soft, lush feel of her mouth enveloping him, the erotic swirl of her tongue heightening his desire, and the perfect suction threatening his control.
And when those sultry blue eyes looked up at him, with her lips stretched around his rigid flesh and the tip of his cock brushing the back of her throat, he knew he was seconds away from climaxing.
“You need to stop before I come,” he warned on a rush of air, and relaxed his fingers from where they’d been clutching her hair to give her room to back off.
Her response was a sweet, tempting moan and another deep swallow that had his blood rushing through his veins and his shaft swelling with the imminent release gathering in his balls. The muscles in his abdomen flexed as he cupped the back of her head in a loose hold and instinctively thrust into her mouth, his restraint vanishing, as it seemed to always do with her.
He had no defenses against this woman. Physically and emotionally, she slayed him.