Be The One (Crave 2)
Worst move ever.
“In my bag, which is downstairs.”
“Jesus, I’ve had this hard on all fucking day and I forgot to bring a fucking condom,” he mutters, looking as desperate as I feel.
“I’m clean,” I say, broaching the subject we’re yet to discuss.
“I am too.” He waits for my response and I almost laugh because he reminds me of a teenage boy who’s desperate to have sex. I love that I bring that out in him.
“For the love of God, don’t stop now then,” I say and close my eyes when his hands move to my panties and slide them down.
And then his hands take hold of my hips and he thrusts inside.
Oh God.
It’s nirvana.
Every time he fucks me is nirvana.
His thrusts grow more insistent and soon he’s slamming into me over and over as we chase our orgasms. I reach behind and grab on to his arm, needing to touch him.
“Fuck, baby, feels so good,” he says, his breathing laboured.
My mind begins to lose focus as the pleasure explodes in brilliant light. I lean my forearms against the door because my limbs are growing unsteady, and as I do this, I fall over the edge and tumble into pure bliss.
Jett’s still working for his but I’m lost.
Falling.
Trembling.
Coming.
And then he comes, too, and we’re falling together.
He holds me while his orgasm takes over, his grip on my hips still strong.
 
; Eventually he pulls out of me and puts his arm around my waist to drag me to him. His lip brushes my ear and he says, “I love your sex addiction.”
Laughing, I murmur, “I bet you do.”
His body shakes with his own laughter and he turns me in his arms. His eyes drift over my body for a moment before coming back to meet my gaze. “I’m done for. You know that, right?” His words and the raw honesty with which he says them surprise me. When I don’t respond, he continues, “You have me wrapped around your little fucking finger and you have no idea.”
He stares at me and I can’t help but take in his beauty. I’ve never met a man as sexy as Jett. Tall with dark hair that looks as good rumpled as it does smooth, blue eyes I could get lost in forever, tanned skin that stretches across well-built muscles and the confidence to go with it all, he has everything that screams ‘take me and never let go’ at me.
I’m having trouble forming a reply because he’s stunned me. “You just say whatever you’re feeling, don’t you?” I finally say.
“Not always, no. But you seem to be bringing that out in me.” More honesty that I can’t help but respect.
I pull his face to mine and kiss him.
Long and deep.
I want him to know what his words mean.
I need him to know how much I appreciate his honesty.