Page 89 of Jesse's Girl

“Yeah?” I manage, baring my neck to him in a silent plea for more. “And how does imaginary Ada compare to the real thing?”

“Doesn’t hold a fucking candle,” he says, smiling as he nudges my legs open with his knee, then sucks and bites gently at my neck. He takes my mouth in a drugging kiss as he lowers his hips, resting the head of his dick against my slick entrance. He pulls back, gazing down at me as he rubs the tip against my pussy, coating it in my wetness.

I drag my hands down his chest, drinking in his incredible body once more. I smirk up at him. “Manual labor has been good to you, Farm Boy.”

He shakes his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Was that a… Princess Bride reference?” With a scoff, he adds, “Your dirty talk needs some work.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he pushes the tip of his cock inside me, making my breath catch. When he stops, I try to squirm closer. “What do you want me to say then?”

He pushes in just a little more and lets out a low, “Fuuuuuck.” He’s almost trembling as he withdraws again, like he’s fighting to draw this out. “I want you to ask nicely.”

I groan in frustration, feeling like I’m going to scream. Wicked amusement spreads over his face as he pushes the tip in and out, the too-shallow movement driving me insane.

“I want you begging for it. Begging for me to fill you.”

“Please, Jesse.” I’m ready to give him anything he asks for. I grab at his hips with clumsy hands. “I need more. Please… just fuck me.”

Apparently satisfied, he leans down close, his lips at my ear. “As you wish.”

I’m about to give him shit, but my voice is momentarily fucked out of me. I arch up off the bed with a gasp, digging my fingernails into his back as he thrusts again, deeper this time.

“Oh, shit,” I say. “Again. Hard.”

He obliges and I moan, reaching over my head to press a hand against the wall. I brace myself so I can meet him, the angle filling me so completely that I almost shake with relief.

“Oh my God.” His hips buck again. “You like it hard, don’t you?”

As if the answer isn’t screaming from every cell in my body.

“Yes,” I whine, pushing against the wall, shifting down onto him. “More. Please.”

He speeds up, pounding into me over and over again, seating himself inside me fully now. Then, as if trying not to get carried away, he slows. He fists a hand in my hair and tugs my head to one side, his teeth scraping my neck. “Ada,” he mumbles against my skin, fucking me in a slow and steady rhythm, “I wanna watch you come.” He turns my face back to his, claiming my mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss, and his hips kick forward again—hard—just once, like he can’t help himself.

I arch up. “Yes,” is all I can say.

He withdraws slowly, stopping short of pulling all the way out.

“Show me what you like. How you touch yourself,” he says, then leans down close to whisper into my ear. “Like when you’re alone in your room and think I can’t hear you.” He thrusts in again.

My eyes fly open and my jaw drops.

No way.

At my stunned reaction, he gives me a devilish grin. “Did you think I was asleep?”

Heat flushes my cheeks. “It was so late.”

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, dipping down to nip at my earlobe as he grinds inside me. He licks and sucks my neck, making my pussy pulse. “What kind of dirty things were going through your head while you touched yourself?”

Holy fuck.

When I don’t answer, he draws back and slams into me again. My body arches up from the bed, and I let out a cry from somewhere deep in my throat.

“Because all I could think about was you…”—thrust—“on the other side of that wall…”—thrust—“touching this tight…”—thrust—“little…”—thrust—“pussy.” Thrust.

Oh my God.

He leans down to kiss my neck, whispering his next words against the shell of my ear. “I nearly blacked out, I came so fucking hard when I heard you moan.”

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