Page 61 of Reckless
He said nothing, but he got to his feet. As he stood, he grabbed my sides. The man actually threw me over his shoulder, like some kind of caveman taking his prize, his woman he was about to claim.
Me. His prize was me.
He slapped my ass before dropping me on my bed, and I bounced a little as I met his eyes. Jacob reached into his pocket, pulling out a small square wrapper, a lust-filled glower on his face. So he’d come prepared. Tsk-tsk-tsk. He said all those things to me, and yet he came over with a rubber. I see how it was.
Jacob tossed the wrapper at me, ordering, “Open it.”
“Giving orders, hmm?” I asked, my fingers taking the small wrapper and running along its edges.
He said nothing, scowling as he yanked his pants down, having already undone its button and zipper. He had to kick off his shoes in order to fully take off his pants, and once his bottom half was free of all clothing, he hopped on the bed. I had the condom ready to go, and the bastard pointed to his rock hard dick, his way of telling me to put it on him.
I made sure to do it really, really slowly. His cock twitched as I rolled it on, and after it was rolled on all the way, Jacob’s chest pinned me down on the bed. My sheets were unmade, because I never made my bed after getting up, and we got ourselves tangled in them. My legs were wide open, my inner core throbbing with need.
Was it wrong to feel so wanton, so needy? I couldn’t remember ever feeling this horny in my life.
Jacob said nothing, and the moment I felt him push inside me, my eyelids snapped shut. I groaned, my nails digging into his back. Or, rather, his shirt. Both of us still had our shirts on; maybe that made it hotter, more forbidden, somehow. I had no idea. All I knew was that I needed this man, and I needed him right now.
Thank God he’d brought a condom with him. Thank freaking God.
Once all the shit settled—and assuming I was still alive when it did—I’d have to ask my mom about getting a doctor’s appointment and getting on the pill.
Yeah. The pill would be nice, and then I could be one with my guys with no barriers. Not getting pregnant would be a nice bonus, too.
Jacob moaned as he thrusted his hips, slowly at first, but like always, it was only a few moments before things turned hard and rough. Just like his personality, and yet I knew the man cared for me. He cared for me in ways his words could not describe. The slip-up of saying he loved me wasn’t a slip-up at all; I knew it, he knew it. It was only a matter of time until he told me he meant it, and I couldn’t wait for that day.
I surrendered myself fully, my body still riding the high of the orgasm as Jacob fucked me. I bunched up his shirt, my body taking every inch of his thick dick in as he pumped in and out. I could tell when he was getting close, because his thrusts became harder, his moaning turning into straight up grunting.
His orgasm came, and his entire body tensed above mine, his cock emptying inside of me with a twitch. I wished I could hold him close, keep him with me, inside of me, for eternity. Forget about the murders and the frame job. Forget about all of it.
Jacob was slow to pull out of me, breathing hard as he rolled beside me. “Well,” he muttered, his skin a bit sweaty from our exertions, “fuck.”
Yeah, ditto.
I wanted to stay where we were, be close to him for a while longer, but Jacob got up, searching for something to use to pull the condom off. I didn’t have any tissues or anything in my room, so he gathered his clothes and poked his head out of my room, into the hall. My guess, he disappeared into the bathroom just down the hall. Hopefully he’d be smart enough to wrap that condom up in a big wad of toilet paper and bury it in the garbage.
Knowing I’d best get up and get clothed too, I forced myself off my bed and picked up my pajama pants and the underwear wadded inside it. After putting them back on, I also went to find my favorite bra on my dresser, sliding off my shirt and putting that on, too. Just a simple black one, but it was the comfiest, and it fit my boobs the best.
Jacob returned by the time I was tugging my shirt back down over my head, and he made sure to leave the door wide open this time. I’d never look at that door the same way again, honestly. “I’m going to be downstairs,” he said, frowning. How that man could frown so easily after having an orgasm was beyond me. It seriously was his go-to facial expression. When in doubt, frown it out.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to try to finish my homework and not think about how you just pounded me in my own bed.” I spoke it matter-of-factly as I returned to my desk, and I didn’t have to look behind me to know that Jacob’s cock was still semi-hard from our session.
I bet it twitched at my statement, too.
By the time Mom came home, I was done with my homework, and I acted like I hadn’t even known Jacob was downstairs. She then told me she’d invited him to stay for dinner, and he’d accepted.
Right, because that wouldn’t be awkward.
Ollie came home early in the afternoon, and he and Jacob talked a little in his office. I hung out with my mom in the kitchen for a bit, finally having changed out of my pajamas. Mostly because Mom scolded me since we had company over. Not sure if I’d consider Jacob to be official company, but I supposed to Mom he was. To me? To me he was…
I was going to make a joke about his dick, but really, that man was everything to me. He’d saved me, helped me when I had no one else watching my back, and I could never repay him for that.
“I know I didn’t trust Jacob in the beginning,” Mom said, cutting up some vegetables she was going to cook with dinner, “but I’m glad I listened to Oliver.” Was it weirder for her to call him Oliver, or for her to call him Ollie? Ollie was what we’d gone with at the beginning, due to his insistence, though Mom had a habit of calling him Mr. Fitzpatrick to his face.
Hmm. I wasn’t sure, frankly.
“He’s a good man,” she said, glancing at me. “There doesn’t seem to be many of those around here.”
I nodded, reaching over and taking a tiny piece of carrot and popping it in my mouth. Crunchy and hard, just as carrots should be. I wasn’t a huge fan of carrots when they were cooked. Too soft and mushy. Yuck. “Jacob’s nice,” I said, though nice wasn’t really how I’d describe him. For the sake of my mom, though, that’s all I would say.
