He gripped himself, angling the tip toward her entrance. Finding her wet heat was easy. Persuading her to relax enough to allow him to slide inside, however, was no small feat. She was clenched. Her jaw, her cunny.
“Relax yourself,” he coaxed. “Let me in.”
“Are you certain this will work?” she worried.
He would have laughed or kissed her if he wasn’t so out of his damned idea pot as it was. “Certain.”
The hand that was on her waist urged her forward. She allowed him to move her until his cock was at her entrance. Liquid heat greeted him. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Jasper had to bite his cheek to keep from surging up. Doing so would only hurt his ribs and remove the power from Octavia’s grasp. Neither would be any good, regardless of how suddenly ravenous he was for her.
“Slowly,” he said.
“Yes,” she agreed, brow furrowed in concentration, as if two people fucking was something she ought to have studied somewhere, a debutante’s talent she had somehow failed to learn when she’d taken her lessons on sewing and dancing and curtsying.
“Don’t think,” he said. “Just feel.”
“Just feel,” she repeated.
“Sink down on me.”
“Will you fit?” she asked.
Christ, she was adorable. And vexing.
“I did before,” he reminded her. “Nothing different now, save our positions. I would gladly fuck you into tomorrow, but my ribs ain’t too happy with me now, love.”
“Your ribs?”
The alarm in her voice told him he should not have mentioned his injury. Damn it.
“They’re fine, but better with you on top,” he explained through gritted teeth.
She nodded. “Yes, of course.”
With the hand gripping her waist, he urged her downward, his straining cock at the ready. “Now, Octavia.”
In the next moment, she sank down on him, taking him fully.
“Oh my,” she said, breathless.
He would have repeated the sentiment had he been capable of speech. As it was, no chance of that. Instead, he urged her on, showing her how to move. How to ride him. She required precious little guidance. Within moments, she was taking him deep and then withdrawing, only to sink down on his cock again, searching for her own pleasure.
She was beautiful.
Wild.
Trouble.
His.
The pain in his ribs was agonizing but bearable, just for the sight of her alone, wild and glorious atop him. But the sensation—the tight grip of her cunny on his cock, the slick dew of her rendering each slide more erotic and pleasurable than the last—was almost more than he could bear. Everything inside him was coming undone. He was a searing mess of agony and pleasure, ribs aching with every movement and yet desperate for her to fuck him anyway. He set his teeth on edge to keep his fulfillment at bay for as long as possible.
Too good.
Too exquisite.
She pumped faster, sucking him deep, her inner muscles clenching so tightly he feared he might explode, fill her with his seed. And that was something he was determined not to do. He already had two children he had never planned for. The possibility of another was terrifying. Yet…
Yet, the thought of spending inside her, pouring himself into her, was so damned erotic that, once it had wormed its way into his mind, it would not be removed. She sank on his cock once more, her breasts bouncing, and he longed to suck her nipples. Those stiff buds were begging for his mouth. He shifted, moving with a hiss of pain, until he was victorious. He suckled her, rewarded by a rush of wetness in her cunny, making her so slippery. So hot.