Page 67 of The Jellybean Dilemma

“It’s not you I’m mad at. It’s never been you.” He laced his fingers through mine, bringing my hand to his lips. “You are beyond gorgeous, and I can’t always control myself around you.” There was an awkward pause.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower and huskier. “Like now for example, I feel like a horny teenager with no self-control.” He brought my hand down to brush against the front of his jeans, against the erection straining behind the denim. He inhaled sharply when my fingers grazed the bulge. “The only person I’m mad at is myself.”

I sat in shocked silence for a long moment, too stunned to even move my hand. “It’s not me?”

Pain laced his face, and he reached up to cup my cheek. “It’s only you, but not like that. You are exquisite. So beautiful it hurts.” He thrust against my hand and leaned over to brush his lips against mine once more. “But never because you did anything wrong. You’re perfect.”

The words sent a wave of desire through me so strong I almost gasped. He wanted me. All those times he’d been mad, it was because he’d been out of control over me. I bit my lip. “Greg.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re in no condition to—”

I shut him down with a lusty smirk. “Well, if you won’t, then I will.” I removed my hand from him, sliding it down my peaked breast, around the splotchy bruises of my stomach and between my legs.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Rhonda.”

“I’d rather have you, Greg, but I’ll take what I can get.” I moaned as I thought of his hand replacing mine.

He swallowed hard as he watched my fingers nestle between my legs, worry creasing his brow.

“I promise I won’t get carried away, but I need this.” I reached for his hand. “Touch me. Please.”

He hesitated as I tugged, but then he gave in and let me guide his hand between my legs. I shuddered at the delicious feeling of his skilled fingers circling my clit, relieved that the only tension between us was sexual. I relaxed against the tub, groaning when his fingers slipped inside me and his palm hit my swollen clit.

The growing bulge at the front of his jeans had me licking my lips. I assessed my movements, deciding I was up for giving him the same pleasure. He had to pause to help me undo his jeans with his wet fingers, the denim dark where the water had soaked in. Then he shoved his pants down along with his boxers, his eager cock springing up to greet me.

I wrapped my hand around his hot length, grinning when he sighed and thrust against me. My grin fell when his fingers eased down my leg once more to slip back inside me. I arched into him instinctively before he shot me a reprimanding glare. Right, I promised not to get too rowdy. His expression softened as he stared at me, then he leaned over the edge of the porcelain tub to claim my mouth with his own.

A wave of giddiness shot through me as I relished being with him. This ease between us, the mutual pleasuring, the incessant need. I wanted it all, and I poured my feelings into that kiss as I stroked his rigid cock.

He deepened the kiss, changed the angle, both of his mouth and his hand. The increased friction against my clit sent pleasure waves through me. He slid a second finger in me, and I fought the urge to arch into him once more. I settled for moaning into his mouth.

I felt him harden in my grasp, and I wondered which of us would cave first. A flutter went through me, signaling I was close. But I fought it until his tongue began thrusting in time with his fingers. I broke our kiss, crying out as I clenched, my orgasm taking over in a flash.

So much for him losing control. My hand was still wrapped around his shaft, and I turned my concentration to him. I expected him to remove his hand, but he kept touching me, teasing me. Did he think I’d come again that easily?

I pumped his cock slowly, loving the groan he let out. I wished I could take him in my mouth, or better yet, feel him fully inside me. But I knew I was already pushing my limits by doing this much.

Increasing my pace, I added a swipe of my thumb over his sensitive ridge on my way up. He hummed, the velvety skin hardening even more, a sure sign he was close. My thumb grew slick with precum, making it easier to slide along his thick shaft. His lips crashed on to mine as he pressed into my hand. I pumped harder as he groaned into my mouth.

Then he went rigid above me, hot liquid spilling over my hand. A Cheshire Cat grin spread across my face as I lay back. A ripple of pleasure went through me as I realized he hadn’t stopped either. His lips tipped up in a cocky smirk as he swirled his slick fingers over my needy clit. I clenched at the motion, surprised to find myself so quickly on the brink once more.

I really had been with the wrong guys.

I leaned my head back against the tub, shifting as he slid two fingers inside me once more. His palm hit just right again, and I moaned. I wanted to writhe at the building pleasure within me, but I had to stay still. I settled for panting breaths and gripping the edge of the tub with my slick fingers, coated in Greg’s cum.

“That’s it, Jellybean. Come for me,” Greg said, his voice full of gravel.

The command was enough to send me tumbling over that edge. Bliss crashed over me in wave after wave as I cried out Greg’s name. He finally removed his hand, giving me a much-needed break.

Holy shit.

I felt like I had no bones left in me. When I saw the grin on his face, it was so smug, I had to chuckle. “Well don’t you look like the cat who ate the cream?”

“I wish.”

I shook my head slowly when I realized the double entendre. “Yeah, yeah. I think I’m ready to get out.”

He glanced down at his state of undress. “Give me a second, to um, clean up, then I’ll help you.”

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