“It’s funny,” he says, taking his shirt off over his head with a wince. “Because I had my fingers and dick inside of you just last night, so I don’t understand why I’d be uncomfortable with this.” He raises an eyebrow at me as he tosses his shirt onto the chair across the room. “You on the other hand are full of regret.”
“Oh my God.” I feel every word pound into me just like he did last night and busy myself with the table he has to lie on, ignoring the way I’m blushing furiously.
Lawrence was never a dirty talker. Not like this. When I’m ready, but still blushing, I turn to face him. It’s a mistake. He’s not wearing a shirt and seeing his ripped body like that on full display is a reminder of what we did, a reminder that makes my fingers shake because of how badly I want to reach out and scratch every perfect cut as he reams into me. God help me. Jagger starts to close the distance between us, his gaze heating with each step. When he reaches me, he lifts my chin up so that I’m looking at him.
“Tell me you don’t regret me.” His words are a low growl.
“I don’t regret you,” I whisper, unsure of why tears are suddenly springing to my eyes.
Maybe because all those years ago when I walked out after we had sex, I had the awful feeling that he would think I regretted him. Maybe because all these years that’s the reason I’ve dodged him, because I couldn’t face the fact that I definitely wanted him more than I cared to admit and didn’t want to look in his eyes to see whether or not there was hatred there, or worse, pain.
“Tell me what you need, Josephine,” he says, bringing his hand from my chin to the nape of my neck.
I tilt my head back and he kisses the exposed curve of my neck, he traces wet kisses up and down slowly. My nipples pebble in my shirt and my hands fly to the waistband of his shorts. He pulls away, desire clouding his eyes, igniting a fire inside me that makes me feel exposed, feral.
“I want you,” I manage.
“Hm. How do you want me?” Another growl, this time as he kisses me, his lips soft, his tongue lashing as hard as the grip he has on my hair.
“Any way. Any way I can have you.” I whimper, but I don’t want him to stop.
I lean into him, against him, wanting more, begging for more. Anything to douse the fire and sate this ridiculous need for him. With his free hand, he starts undoing the button of my jeans. He’s still kissing me as he lowers them and only pulls away to take my shirt off quickly before his lips attack mine again. He takes off my bra quickly and lowers it slowly, reaching for my nipple and tugging it. I moan at that, pushing against him, needing more. He pulls away again and lets go of the hair on the nape of my neck, backing up an inch to study me.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, like it’s a curse, like he’s upset.
I huff out a laugh because I could say the same about him. I’m just scared to say anything at all right now, not wanting to break this spell. He dips his head and pulls my breast into his mouth, licking, tugging, making me squirm. He uses one hand to steady himself on the bed behind me and runs the other down my stomach and into my panties. A sound elicits from his lips, the guttural vibration of it against my nipple is almost too much. I grab a fistful of his full, messy hair with one hand and his hand beside me with the other. He lets go of my nipple, a soft pop in the otherwise quiet room, and makes his way up to my neck, burying his face there as he begins to stroke my folds with his fingers.
“So wet. So fucking wet,” he groans against me. “Get on this thing.”
I comply, kicking off my jeans and pulling myself onto the patient bed behind me. The white paper that covers it scrunches beneath my fists and Jagger lowers himself to his knees, pulling my thong to the side as he settles between my legs and licks along the seam of my folds. I grip the paper harder, letting out a huff of a breath.
“So good,” he murmurs against me, biting the inside of my thigh before sucking on my clit.
“Oh my . . . don’t stop.” I buck toward his mouth, letting go of the paper with one hand, and grab a fistful of his hair.
He groans against my clit and brings his hands up to grip my ass, pulling me against his mouth as he moves hungrily, his tongue unyielding. I can barely breathe, my heart quickening more than ever before as the shock of the orgasm hits me. Jagger continues licking, teasing, biting my thighs as I come down from ecstasy. When he stands, he’s already pulling down his basketball shorts and briefs, freeing himself between us. I reach out and wrap a hand around him, stroking as he gets closer to me. He hands me the condom wrapper and I take it, letting go of him only to slide it on slowly. With the way his muscles are all tight, I know he’s doing everything he can not to pounce.