Chapter Thirty
Istayedinthe shower until the water ran cold, replaying my encounter with my dad. I wasn’t sad he was dead. Instead, I felt lighter, like I was finally free. Did that make me a bad person for not feeling the sorrow most do when losing a parent? Probably, but then again, they most likely had parents they loved and would miss. I wouldn’t, not now, not ever miss that man.
An audiobook I’d listened to once said that it took five minutes to calm down. I’d counted exactly five minutes on the drive home from my dad’s house to lose the anger that had been searing through me and, surprisingly enough, that audiobook had been right. By the time I drove to Jake’s apartment and parked next to his glorious collection of supercars, mouth salivating as I walked past them with the desperate need to drive them all, I hadn’t thought of the evening’s events at all.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, engulfing me in a concoction of delicious smells. I toed off my heeled boots and walked further into his apartment, looking around and absorbing everything like I was in a museum appreciating the décor, unlike the last time I was here.
His living room was bachelor chic; a huge black leather sofa spanning most of the living space, a TV at least seventy inches mounted on the wall, and a glass coffee table with a ridiculous number of remotes that controlled God only knew what.
I dropped my purse over the back of the sofa and went in search of the kitchen. It felt a little weird that I only knew my way from the front door to his bedroom, and that I hadn’t seen anything else of the place he called home.
Following the scent of garlic and ginger, I stepped into a large kitchen and the sound of sizzling got louder. I was greeted with the sight of Jake looking far too domesticated as he stood frying prawns. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and the material stretched across his muscular back as his arm shifted the pan across the open flame of the hob.
I stopped in the doorjamb, appreciating the sight before me. My stomach swirled with a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time. Happiness. Here was this amazing guy who wanted to make a difference in the world, cooking for me completely unaware that mere hours ago I was ridding myself of my father’s blood. I was happy, no longer bound in chains, held by the monster that was my father. I was just happy.
“That smells incredible,” I said, pushing from my stop to join him at his side and watch him work. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I’m full of surprises,” he replied, grabbing a dishcloth and wrapping it over the metal panhandle, then removing it off the heat. He turned and kissed me softly, lingering and playfully nipping on my bottom lip. “You look beautiful,” he murmured into my lips as he slid a hand down my side. I flinched at the touch and stepped out of his space.
Jake frowned but turned back to the stove and put some linguini in a pot, setting it to boil. I played with the hem of the turtleneck I’d put on to hide my bruising and pulled it up to ensure the purple marks were completely covered.
He reached up to grab a wineglass from a cupboard and I revelled in the way his muscles moved. Pouring some red wine into the glass, he handed it over and clinked his bourbon with mine. I swirled the liquid and brought it to my lips, taking a sip and eying him over the rim. The cherry flavour burst across my tongue, and I groaned inwardly, shutting my eyes.
Jake was staring when I looked up, his dark blue orbs sparkling with longing. I licked my lips and set the glass on the worktop behind me. Jake stepped forward, throwing the tea towel he’d held in his hand over one shoulder, making him look impossibly sexier. He closed the gap between us and placed his finger under my chin to tilt my face up to meet his gaze. He dropped his lips back to mine, tasting the wine as his tongue demanded entrance to my mouth.
I relented, letting the smoky flavours of his bourbon tangle with the chianti. My back hit against the worktop as he deepened the kiss, bringing his arms around my waist to pull me closer to him.
He tightened his grip, moaning into my mouth as I brought my hands to his chest and pushed him off, dragging a hiss through my teeth. His frown came back and stayed permanently etched on his face as he stepped back, looking at me confused and almost annoyed.
“Okay, that’s twice you’ve flinched when I’ve kissed you. What’s wrong? Did I do something to piss you off?” he asked, pulling the towel from his shoulder and dropping it by the sink. I shook my head and reached both hands up, anxiously carding my fingers through my wavy black hair.
“No, it’s not you,” I started to say, absentmindedly dropping one hand to run along my side as I turned away from him. “I’m just a little sore.”
Jake grabbed the bottom of my top before I could stop him and moved the material swiftly up my stomach. The sharp pain from my ribs had me sucking in a breath and I bit my lip, trying to keep the whimper of pain inside.
“Who did this?” he growled, lightly running the tips of his fingers to trace over the purple and blue contusions decorating the side of my torso. His fingers paused over the outline of a boot heel, and he rumbled deep in his throat.
“I’m fine.” I tried to placate him as I took the shirt out of his hands and started pulling it down to recover my stomach. Jake grabbed back at the hem and carefully pulled it all the way off. His eyes immediately raked over my neck and my bare body as a whole, taking in the full extent of my injuries with blown pupils. He clenched his jaw so tight that the cords in his throat stood out.
“This is not fucking fine, Stefany,” he said, his tone almost a growl, bringing his eyes to meet mine. They were full of fire and seething anger at whoever had hurt me. Like he wanted to hunt them down and make them pay. And that was a complete turn on. “Who did this?”
He stepped closer, dropping my top to the floor and brushing the pad of his thumb across the fingerprint marks on my neck. I swallowed hard and decided not to tell a complete lie.
“I was attacked when I was out,” I whispered, my eyes glued to his expression as I watched a mixture of emotions dance across his stunning face. Anger, then sympathy, rage, and finally pain.
Goosebumps pebbled across my skin as he brought his lips to my throat, delicately kissing the marks left by Philip and then continuing down my chest to the swell of my breasts hugged in green lace. He scooped his arms around my ass and lifted me off the ground, walking us both to the large island in the centre of the kitchen, where he set me down.
“I hope you made him pay.”
I nodded as he placed a large palm between my breasts and pushed me down gently to lie on the cool granite countertop. His mouth was on my skin again, lightly grazing down the many bruises as he roamed my stomach toward my jeans, and I sat up on my elbows to watch.
With a quick flick of my button, Jake undid the denim and curled his fingers around the waistband. I tried to help as he shimmed the material over my ass and dragged them down my legs. He stood back, staring appreciatively and adjusting his dick straining against his zipper.
“Even covered in bruises, your body is gorgeous. And when you’re wearing this.” He ran his fingers across the top of my lace panties, his voice husky when he spoke. He scraped a hand over his neatly stubble lined jaw. “But they won’t be on your body for long.”
I let my legs fall wide to watch as he pulled a barstool to the end of the counter and took a seat so he was aligned with my pussy. I was aching for him, letting out a breath of anticipation, waiting for what was going to happen. I wanted his mouth on me so badly.
Jake dropped his head between my thighs and dragged his tongue across the lace of my underwear. I groaned and dropped my head between my shoulder blades, the feeling of his wet tongue against the fabric creating all sorts of delicious friction. He sucked the cloth into his mouth, moaning to himself as he did.
His hands slid up my calves that dangled off the side of the island on either side of his broad shoulders, and continued up to grip my hips. Then, his thumbs looped under the elastic waistband, and I lifted my ass as much as my protesting core allowed. He dragged my panties slowly down my legs, where I then heard them fall to the floor.
One large hand splayed across my lower stomach, his thumb resting at the crest of my very wet pussy. With his other hand, two fingers pressed softly on either side of my slit to spread me apart where he blew over my clit, causing my hips to buck off the worktop. The hand on top of my stomach held me down as I squirmed in his grip.
“Please,” I breathed, curling my hands on either side of the counter, and I flattened my back on the cold hard block granite. Jake’s chuckle filled my ears as he blew again, his warm breath teasing, and I whimpered.
“Does this feel good?” he asked, and I could feel the faint brush of his stubble against the inside of my legs.
“Yes,” I moaned, moving my feet so they were on his thighs. My toes curled into the cotton of his trousers as he moved his mouth closer, his soft lips taunting the exact place I so desperately wanted him to touch.
“What do you need, Stefany?” he questioned, gripping one ankle in his hand and putting it over his shoulder.
“I…I…” I panted, unable to speak as longing and excitement took over. Jake put my other leg over his shoulder and pushed my knees further apart.
“I need you to tell me what you need.” He sat up straight, hands remaining curled around my knees. I swallowed.
“Please, Jake,” I begged, trying to pull his body in with my legs.
“I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”
“I need your mouth.”
“Where?”
I moaned as my clit pulsed painfully with the need to be touched.
“Where, Stefany?”
“Fuck, Jake, please. Put your mouth on me,” I panted, just as his tongue brushed up my centre and plunged deep inside. I could only moan the end of my sentence.
His tongue thrust in and out of my pussy as my breathing stopped. The hot sensation of his mouth against me as he moved his hand down slightly and pressed his thumb to my clit had me crying out in pure delight. Stars twinkled behind my closed eyes when he replaced his thumb with his tongue, circling my clit in languid strokes.
My head dropped to the side as Jake pushed a finger inside, curling it like he was coaxing an orgasm out of me. And it was working. The distinct build of pressure and tingles grew exponentially as his talented mouth and hand continued to assault my body with pleasure.
I opened my eyes and found my gaze on the pot of pasta cooking away on the stove, and at the same time that the first splash of water boiled over the side, my orgasm came rippling out of me in waves of bliss.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned, gripping one hand on the counter and the other flying to his hair. The water boiled and simmered, splashing over the side and sliding down the cupboard door as Jake continued to pull my orgasm from me.
“Jake,” I panted, my back arching as I tried to pull his head from between my legs with little success.
“That’s it, baby, don’t stop.” His hand moved to my ass, digging his fingers into the meaty flesh of my ass cheek as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue.
“Ah, Jake,” I cried as his moves started to send little shots of electricity to my toes and my body’s sensitivity heightened. I gripped and tugged his hair, realising he wasn’t listening or hadn’t heard me. I smacked the top of his head a couple of times and cried, ”Jake! The food.”
“Oh, fuck!” He shot right up and ran to turn off the cooker. Watching him, I dug my teeth into my bottom lip, trying not to laugh as he grabbed the tea towel and mopped up the spilt water. I slid down from the worktop, my legs shaking as I bent to get my discarded panties.
Jake’s palm cracked down on my bare ass, jolting me forward as I gasped and reached out for the barstool for support. He rubbed a hand over my stinging flesh before taking it away and cracking down again. My whole body quivered, and my panties slipped from my fingers, dropping to the floor once more.
I squeaked as he came up behind me, driving his pelvis into my ass so I could feel the outline of his hard cock between my cheeks.
“Someone likes spanking,” he mused as he dragged his hand down my spine, careful to avoid my injury. “I’ll come back to that later, but right now, if I don’t get inside you, we’re going to have a problem.”
“What about dinner?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him while he flexed a hand on my hip, trying to fight for control.
“We’ll order in,” he said, tugging on my hip to spin me around. “I need to feel you come around my cock, Stefany. I need to feel your tight little pussy squeeze my hard dick like a vice.” He dropped his head, capturing my lips with his.
He began moving us, pushing me backwards toward his bedroom as I clawed at his shirt, pulling at the buttons frantic to get them undone so I could feel his warm skin against my own. My actions were generated by a chaos of need, desperately trying to rid him of his clothing.
Proceeding to the bedroom proved difficult as we moved in a bluster of lips and teeth and tongues. Jake so very carefully explored my body with his hands, keeping his touches light and gentle, ensuring his muscular arm smacked into any objects blocking our path: a wall, the dining table, a standalone lamp.
Jake kicked his bedroom door, causing it to bounce back and smack his hip. He groaned in discomfort against my mouth, but didn’t stop kissing me. His hand tangled in my hair, angling my head in any direction he needed to guarantee the best access, and I let him.
In a suit and tie, Jacob Weston was a businessman, chivalrous, generous, and kind. In the bedroom, he was demanding, domineering, and downright delectable, and I would let him control me in any way he deemed fit.
The backs of my legs hit the mattress when Jake leaned into me, prompting me to lie on the bed. I scooted up the sheets and watched as he undid the buttons I had hastily missed half of, still tucked into his dress pants, and it looked stretched out in places where I had tried to pull it from his chest.
He unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the belt loops, his face turning up to look at me through the shadows from the window. The bedroom had gauze curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows that I hadn’t noticed the last time I was in his bed, and it created the perfect setting for what was about to happen.
Jake pushed his trousers over his hips, taking his boxer briefs with them, so his hard cock sprung free and hit his stomach. I licked my swollen lips as my eyes dropped to the most perfect dick I think I had ever seen lightly resting against the dark line of hair running from his belly button to his perfectly trimmed pubic hair.
I wanted to spend hours looking at and touching every inch of his body, running my fingers over the velvet smooth skin of his cock, feeling every vein, every part of him but the desire to have each other didn’t allow for my sordid perusal of him as he crawled up my body and reached inside the small drawer of his bedside table. He pulled out a strip of condoms, taking one off the line with his teeth.
Removing the foil, he slid the latex down his shaft while reaching between my legs and running a finger along my slit. He moaned, rubbing me up and down a few times before he brought his finger to his mouth.
“Still wet and ready for me, Stefany,” he remarked, licking his finger clean. He nudged my thighs apart with his hand and fisted his cock with the other, lining himself up with my pussy before pausing.
“Tell me to stop if I’m hurting you, baby.” He glanced down at my side, his expression a cross between serious and painful restraint as he set ground rules for my benefit. “I’ll try to be gentle, but I can’t promise you that I will be.”
I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled his head closer, kissing along his jaw and sucking on the edge of his ear. I could feel Jake’s shuddery breath against my shoulder, and I grinned. Running one hand up the back of his leg, I gripped his ass and whispered in his ear, “Shut up and fuck me.”
With a growl and one swift thrust, Jake filled me up completely. His thrusts were soft and gentle as he tried to keep his weight off my broken body. His eyes were closed, and a sheen of sweat lined his forehead where his brows were scrunched tight in the middle.
I reached up and pushed back his damp fringe. His deep blue eyes blinked open, and I traced my fingertips down his stubble lined jaw.
“Don’t treat me like I’m broken, Jake,” I said, moving to take his earlobe between my teeth again and biting down. “I’m not fragile. I can take all you have to give me.”
He let out a short breath and dropped his mouth to my throat, sucking hard to create new bruises in the places where my old ones lay. His thrusts became deeper and harder, each grind of his pelvis against mine building our pleasure together and blurring the line of lust with something deeper. When he slipped out from me, my body protested at the loss.
“Turn over, baby,” he ordered huskily, tapping my thigh. “Get that gorgeous ass of yours up.”
I did as I was asked, moving to my knees and resting my face in his pillow so my back was sloped down towards the bed. He gripped my hip roughly and positioned himself at my entrance before slamming in hard. He groaned, flexing his fingers on my hips and ran his other hand up and down my spine.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathed out, reaching his hand to my hair and gathering it in his fist. He pulled sharply at the strands and my back bowed as arousal flooded my body. My hands fisted the bedsheets as his strong thighs met my ass at each downward thrust, pushing my shoulders further into the mattress. The hand holding my hips moved around and found my clit.
“C’mon, baby,” he repeated over and over as my body started to shake and spasm with my orgasm, triggering Jake’s, the feeling of him shuddering inside me making me cry out.
He rolled us to the side, keeping himself buried in my pussy, and kissed between my shoulders. I melted into his touch and let my eyes fall shut. For once, everything felt right, like this is where I was always meant to be.