I unbuttoned my jeans and lowered the zipper. Shimmying out of them, I watched as Jack did the same with his before discarding them on the floor. He paused for only a moment, but it was long enough for me to see him in all his naked glory. I wanted to freeze-frame this second and burn it into my memory. Naked Jack Carter was truly a sight to behold. From his chiseled shoulders and chest all the way down to the manhood that jutted from between his muscular thighs. This man’s athletic body did a number on me.
I pursed my lips together and reached for his length, but he shook his head. His eyes met mine before he lowered his head between my legs. My lips parted as he kissed my inner thigh, slowly, methodically. He teased me until I felt like I didn’t know how to breathe on my own. Every breath felt wrong, filled with too much effort. Who the hell has to think about breathing? Apparently I do when my husband is positioned between my thighs.
His tongue left a trail of wetness up my thigh and close to my sex before moving to the opposite leg. I wriggled and grabbed his head, trying to force him to focus his attention where I desperately wanted him to. He laughed. “Almost, Kitten,” he said, his words hot against my skin.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more and I considered actually killing him with my legs, his tongue found my sweet spot. My chest heaved as I released the air building within me. He licked me in soft strokes before becoming more focused, more feverish. The flicks of his tongue caused my frenzy to build as he moved from one area to another. One moment his tongue lapped at me, and the next it was diving inside of me, moving in and out in rapid succession.
I squeezed my eyes so hard I saw stars. Or maybe it was his mouth that made me see them. Who knew? All I knew for sure was that it was fucking magical. My husband was a magician with a wand for a tongue and I didn’t care who knew.
“Jack. Oh God, Jack. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” I shouted. “You’re like Harry Potter, oh God!”
Instantly, he stopped. Midlick, he lifted his face from between my legs to stare at me, and I swear I felt my vagina curl up and die a little.
“Did you just call me Harry Potter?” Jack’s face twisted with humor and confusion.
“I just meant that you were magical. Your tongue is fucking magic. Get down there and perform a spell. Shut up, Jack. Just get back down there. ” I pushed his head as he laughed.
“He might be magic, but he’s not real. I’m real. This is real. ” His tongue resumed its magical licking as he pushed two fingers inside me. My climax continued to build with each flick of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers.
“Just like that, Jack. Oh yes,” I yelled as my hips twisted and jerked, my orgasm tearing through my body with force.
He pulled his head away from me slowly, a dimpled smile on his face. “Are you going to start calling me Harry?”
“Only if you want me to,” I panted as he positioned himself on top of me and pushed inside. The size of him filled me up and I moved my hips in time with his.
“Fuck, Cassie. Always. You always feel so good. ” He pushed himself hard against me, reaching deeper with each thrust.
“Deeper, Jack. Go deeper,” I begged as he grabbed my shoulders and rolled underneath me, never pulling out. I pushed my body on top of his, taking him in as deep as I could. Moving up and down, I leaned toward him, kissing his chest and licking around his nipple.
My hips continued to move, pumping him in and out of me as his erection grew with each stroke against its length.
“Do you feel that?” he asked, referring to his growing size. His voice was tight, as if he couldn’t get enough air. “I’m gonna come, Kitten. I’m almost there. ”
I nodded as my own climax built within me. As I worked myself up and down along him in a hurried pace, he stiffened, reaching a place in me only he ever had, and I began to shudder. Jack’s eyes closed as he exploded inside me, filling me up. I reveled in the thrill of his orgasm as another one of my own ripped through me. My body pulsed as my heartbeat throbbed in my ears. I collapsed onto Jack’s chest and lay there panting as he ran his fingers through my hair, his breathing fast and his body slick with sweat.
“Mine,” was all he said as he kissed my forehead. “Forever. ”
Traded
Three weeks later …
Today marked six weeks since I’d broken my fingers. Cassie wanted to come with me to meet with the team doctor for moral support, but I told her I needed to do this alone. It had nothing to do with me wanting her there or not, but more to do with the fact that she couldn’t do anything about the diagnosis.
If my fingers were healed, then that was great. But if they were still fucked up, she couldn’t make them better, and I needed time to process that. This was the kind of thing a man went into alone and then thanked God, or whoever, that he wasn’t alone when he came out. Cassie was great about it, completely understanding. But then again, my girl always had been.
She wished me good luck as she walked out the door for work, and I promised to call her as soon as I knew anything.
Nerves twisted inside my gut as the possibility of my career being over hung above my head like some sort of metaphorical rain cloud. I could barely eat or think of anything else as I hopped up on the exam table.
“How you feeling?” the doctor asked, all nonchalant, and I wanted to strangle him for attempting small talk with me at a time like this.
Unwilling to respond, I gave him a curt smile and a head nod instead. It was immature and unprofessional, but if he didn’t get this cast off my arm and give me a prognosis, I was going to throw up all over his stupid shiny shoes.
He grabbed a weirdly shaped contraption and started to cut through my cast. Peeling away at the layers, he gently removed it. Waving off the rank smell that accompanied it, I grumbled an apology.
“Comes with the territory, Jack. No one can go six weeks without washing an area of their body and have it smell like roses,” he explained.
He clearly didn’t know my wife. I’d bet she could. She could do anything.