Chapter Eleven
I was still leaning against the door when there was a knock, jolting me out of my stupor. Ben had good timing, actually. There wasn’t any way I was getting out of my tank without help unzipping it.
But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Ben I found standing there. It was JC. The hormones, which had just started to calm ever so slightly, roared back into a storm. The look in his eyes said his had never calmed at all.
I was rushing to him even before he spoke. “I’m here for our second date,” he said just as our mouths collided, our teeth clacking in the frenzy of our kiss. He was already taking off his jacket as he pushed me toward the wall, and I was madly working at the buckle of his pants, my lips never leaving his, my tongue slipping and sliding against his.
Then his hands were under my thighs, lifting me to perch on the console table. My shoes fell to the ground as I spread my legs to let him stand between them, the movement knocking my mail organizer and the roses he’d brought me to the floor. I barely noticed, my sole focus on him, on getting as close to him as possible, as soon as possible.
His buckle was undone now, and after another couple of seconds, his pants were unzipped, and I slipped my hand down to grasp his cock through his boxer briefs. It was so big—bigger than I remembered—and hard and hot under my palm. I squirmed, wanting it out and inside me, my desperation ratcheting higher the nearer it got to happening.
JC was just as desperate. His hands fell to my knees, sending a delicious shiver down my spine as he skated his hands up and under my skirt.
And then he found the hem of my shorts. He pulled away to examine the clothing that stood between his fingers and the sensitive skin of my thighs.
“Fuck,” I hissed, wishing now that I hadn’t been so goddamned precautious. “Take it off,” I urged. “Take it off.”
He didn’t hesitate, moving to the waistband of my skort. I braced my hands on his shoulders and lifted my ass while he pulled the garment and my panties past my cheeks, then sat and lifted my thighs so he could take them all the way down and off.
Huh, I guess they weren’t that hard to take off after all.
I threw my arms around his neck and scooted toward the edge of the table, eager to be pressed against him in all the critical places.
But JC’s fervor slowed, his attention moving to my now exposed cunt. He smiled as he slid two fingers down the length of my folds toward my opening. I let out a soft sigh as he entered me, so wet that his fingers slipped in easily.
His eyes flew up to mine. “Holy shit, Gwen.” He added another finger, and I bucked as he rubbed against the magic spot inside that only he had ever been able to find. He pressed his thumb against my clit, and I thought I might come right then.
“You’re so beautiful when I’m fucking you with my fingers.” He stroked in and out of me, his tempo excruciatingly lazy. “I could watch you like this for hours.”
“No, no,” I moaned. “Please.” I couldn’t form anything more coherent while he was pleasuring me, but as good as it felt, I wanted him to stop. I needed his cock inside me, and every second that passed that he made me wait for it was torture.
“Shh.” He bent in to nip my lower lip before pulling his hand from my pussy and placing a single wet finger over my mouth. “I know what you need, Gwen. And I’m going to give it to you because I need it too.”
He smeared my juices over my lips, then leaned in to kiss me, his mouth bruising me with his greediness to devour my taste. Damn, it was hot. Naughty and dirty and so, so hot.
As he ravished me, his hands were absent—taking out his cock, I hoped. I inched my hips toward him, frantic to sheath him.
Somewhere in the haze of my desire, it struck me how much this was like the first time we’d been together, when our lips had been molded and my legs spread around him as I sat on a stainless steel table and eagerly waited for him to enter me.
Then it struck me how different it was as well. How far we’d come since then. I wasn’t doing this to hurt myself. We were sloppy in our kisses, but out of longing, rather than newness. And I didn’t have to be in charge like I did then. So far we’d come together pretty equally, but the minute he demanded my submission, I’d give it to him, willingly.
Eventually, his hand tangled in my hair and he pulled me backward, abruptly breaking our kiss. Now, I thought. Now is when he’ll let me become his again. I glanced down and saw his cock was out. I watched with hungry eyes as he lined himself up to my entrance. “Please,” I begged. Please, please, please.
But he paused, and I knew why. Because this was the time where a condom would go on. Or not. We’d never used condoms. I’d been on birth control and he’d provided a medical record that showed him free of disease. That first time, however, before we’d discussed it, we’d been reckless and ignored any thoughts of responsibility.