Looking for Trouble (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 1)

He unzipped his jeans and reached into his briefs and then, good Lord, he fisted his cock in his hand and eased it out. Sophie made a noise. She couldn’t help it. He was thick and beautiful, the head a perfect plum she wanted to taste. And when he reached for her hand and wrapped it around the base, she moaned. She couldn’t help that either, because he was even thicker now with her small hand wrapped around him. So thick and hard and heavy that she felt faint with lust. She wanted all of that.

He tugged his wallet from his back pocket. He must have been getting out a condom, but Sophie couldn’t bother to look. She was too busy watching her hand squeeze him. Then stroke. All the way up to that gorgeous head and then back down. He hissed in a breath, so she did it again. More firmly this time. She was rewarded with a tiny bead of liquid at the tip. Sophie slicked her thumb over it and swirled it around.

“Jesus,” he groaned. She heard the tear of the condom wrapper and let him go so he could put it on.

There was clearly no need for more foreplay, and she was glad he didn’t pretend. Alex simply bent his knees and lifted one of her legs to his hip. He notched his cock to her opening and he penetrated her. Slowly. Patiently. But without a hint of hesitation. He pushed in, forced her open, and Sophie groaned at the way her body stretched for him.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “God. Yes.”

He pulled back a little, then thrust hard, burying himself deep and tight inside her. She couldn’t breathe for a moment, so stunned by the brutal invasion. But she loved it. She was so wet that it didn’t matter how big he was, her body let him in.

Alex pulled her other leg up, wrapped her ankles around him, and began to fuck her. Her shoulders were pressed to the wall, but his big hands held her ass in a steady grip as he thrust hard and slow, looking down to watch as his cock disappeared into her. Sophie twined her arms around his neck and took him.

“God, you’re hot,” he growled. “So hot and wet for me.”

“Yes.”

“You’re perfect. Fucking beautiful.”

“Yes,” she repeated. She was. Shoved against the wall and fucked like an animal. She was wild and amazing.

He kissed her and she tasted herself on his mouth and loved it. She wanted more, so she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and began to move with him. Alex groaned into her mouth. His hands got a better grip on her ass and he moved her like she belonged to him. Like she weighed nothing. Like she was just an extension of his body and he could use her any way he liked.

His cock filled her over and over, shoving out thoughts of anything except him. His thick, hard flesh. His need to be inside her, as deep as anyone could get. Sweat made his neck slick beneath her hands, and she liked making him work hard for it.

He shifted his hold, hooking his arms under her thighs and lifting her higher against the wall. Now she was spread wide and vulnerable. Alex thrust hard. Sophie screamed.

“Is that how you like it, Sophie?”

She shut her eyes and nodded. He slammed his hips into her, his cock sinking deep and true.

“You like to be fucked hard? Tell me.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Look at me.” His voice was a snarled order. “Look at me and tell me what you want.”

She didn’t want to. It was too much. She’d already shown him just who she was. But his hips slammed into her again. “Look at me,” he growled.

She opened her eyes. Alex looked like someone’s deepest fears. His shaved head and stubbled face and wide, muscled shoulders and the vivid threat of his tattoos as his biceps flexed to hold her still for his pleasure. His face offered no reassurance. He looked furious and desperate as he fucked her. An animal bent on violence. Like he wanted to hurt her with his cock.

Sophie’s stomach clenched inside her. Her heart tripped over fear and lust and danger. “Fuck me, Alex,” she said.

He snarled and fucked her faster.

“Fuck me,” she repeated. “Hard. Please, just...Please.”

He lifted her hips, tipping them up, pressing her shoulders harder against the wall. His motorcycle boots provided the perfect traction on her wood floor. Sophie whimpered as he pistoned into her.

“Are you going to come again?” he asked.

She shook her head. She couldn’t. Not even for him.

“Yes, you are,” he growled. “Touch yourself.”

“I can’t—”

“Touch yourself.”