Not in the mood for any more foreplay, I climb on top of Jack, our bodies pressed together, my boobs squished against his chest. I love the way it feels, him under me. Me looking down into his face, kissing his lips whenever I want, however I want.
His hands go up and down my back while his cock is nuzzled comfortably between my thighs.
I bring my face down, laying soft kisses on the corner of his mouth.
Once.
Again.
Open-mouthed. A little tongue.
Gentle, flirting. Exploring.
Not a frenzied make-out session but romantic, quiet kisses.
It’s gotten darker in the time I was blowing him, dimmer in the room than it was earlier, and I can see less of his face.
We’re becoming shadows in the dark.
“God, I want to be inside you so bad,” Jack was saying, his voice cracking a bit. It was the first time we were having sex after dating for a few weeks. He had wanted to wait—I had not. I wanted to feel close to him and didn’t feel the need to put off what our bodies wanted, but he had way more self-control than I did.
“Just wait a second,” I told him, liking the feel of the tip at my entrance, wanting to prolong him burying deep inside me. I knew that once he entered me, I would be done for. I knew we wouldn’t be able to control the temp once we started.
“Jesus, I’m going to explode.”
“You’ll live.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting forever,” he says, and I remind him that he’s the one who wanted to wait. That I was the one who wanted to have sex after our third date. He’s the one who wanted it to be special.
I shift above him, lining him up, dry fucking him until he moans.
“Do you like that? Does it feel good?”
He nods, lips parting.
Good.
Something is powerful about making a man like this lose a little bit of control. Always has, but it’s this man and this man only whose face I want to see like this; eyes glassing over, nostrils flaring, hands and fingers digging into my hips.
This big, strong, strapping professional footballer is under me, waiting for me to slide on top of him and sink him deep inside. For the love of god, Penelope, fuck me already.
He hasn’t said it yet, but I can see it in his eyes and feel the tension in his shoulders when I kiss his collarbone.
The tip of his hard dick rests right between the folds of my pussy, and it’s making me just as wild as it’s making him, probably even more so. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to savor the moment, and I want to remember this one for a long time.
I kiss him again.
And again.
Move my body up then back, up and back, easing it in, centimeter by centimeter, excruciatingly slow.
I’m so wet.
He is so hard.
I’m so hot for him I can barely stand it myself.
Self-control can kiss my ass.
I swear on the heavens above I see stars when Jack is inside me, all the way in. I sit up, wanting his hands on my breasts, leading them there before leaning back a bit, savoring the sight of myself riding him.
I’m no longer just a mom. I’m a sexy, bad-ass woman.
“God, you’re sexy,” Jack mutters, playing with my boobs, thumbs stroking my nipples. His hands roam everywhere—my rib cage, boobs, waist, everywhere.
I lower myself, kissing his neck, inhaling how incredible he smells, settling my mouth there as I rock back and forth. The pressure is intense, the feeling…
Intoxicating.
Jack’s arms hug me, his moaning getting loud. He was already worked up from the blowie, so there’s no doubt he’s at the brink of coming. I’m almost there, too.
So close…
So, so close…
I come first, and after I do, Jack lifts me off, tosses me onto the mattress, and comes on my stomach, breathing hard and sweating, beads of perspiration from our five-minute screwing session on his forehead.
He collapses beside me. “Sorry about that, but we didn’t use protection.” He breathes in and breathes out. “I’ll get you a rag.”
“Wait. Stay for a second.” I don’t want the heat of his body leaving me just yet. I felt it when he pulled out and hadn’t wanted to lose the contact.
I kiss his shoulder, then he kisses mine.
Jack eventually rolls off the bed and pads to the bathroom, returning with a wet rag to wash my stomach, and we both change into our pajamas after that and get ready to sleep.
Tomorrow morning will come soon enough, and so will the reality of our real lives.
When we drift off to sleep, my head is on Jack’s chest, and all is right with the world except for two things:
Skipper isn’t with us, and
She still doesn’t know Jack is her dad.
Chapter 17
Jack
I’ve gone over and over and over with Elias about something romantic I can do for Penelope after our date this weekend as a token of my appreciation that she flew out to spend time with me.