Page 33 of The Hero She Loves

She should be embarrassed about how wet she was, but she wasn’t. It felt too good. He found her clit and she moaned.

God.

He took his time, playing with her, stroking her. It was like he was memorizing every inch of her. Then one thick finger pushed inside her. She writhed on his clever fingers and moaned. Her fingers dug into his arm. “Park.”

“You feel so good, Jenna.” He pressed his face to her hair, his breathing uneven, his breath hot on her neck. “Haven’t touched something so pretty, so good, in a long time.” He worked his finger in and out of her until all she could feel was pleasure. She couldn’t think at all.

“Park,” she cried.

His hand moved, and she gripped his wrist.

“Don’t stop.” Her voice was breathless.

“No plans to stop. This sweet pussy is so wet for me.”

His voice was low and gritty. Her belly clenched. He pushed another finger inside her, and made her feel the stretch. Then, with a curse, he shoved her shorts and panties down her legs, and she felt his hard cock throb against her ass.

For a second, his hand slid up under her pajama top and cupped one of her breasts. He pinched her nipple, and she let out a husky cry. Then his hand was gone, delving back between her legs. His fingers were back inside her, thumb on her clit, working her hard.

Now she was making desperate little sounds, her legs restless.

“You’re getting close,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to watch you come, Jenna.” He stroked deeper, his thumb pressing on her clit. “Come on my fingers. Let me hear you.”

She couldn’t hold back. She arched, pleasure exploding inside her. Her climax burst—hot and bright. So good. So damn good.

When she came back to reality, pleasure was a low hum in her blood and she was still breathless.

Park was still tense behind her. His cock felt even bigger, still pressing hard against her ass. There was a voice in her head yelling that she shouldn’t have done this. Shouldn’t have crossed this line.

She ignored it.

She wasn’t going to leave him like this. If there was one thing Jenna valued, it was fairness. She spun, her hands pushing at his boxer shorts.

“Jenna—”

“I want to touch you.” She met his gaze. “Is that okay? Can I touch your cock, Park?’

He swallowed. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

She took his cock in both hands and stroked. He was long, with a lot of girth.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

Something flashed in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s okay. More than okay.”

She ran a finger down a thick vein on one side of his cock, liking the way his muscles tensed. Then she pumped him, and his groan filled the room.

She kept working him, and pre-come beaded on the swollen head. She ran her fingers through it.

That earned her a tortured groan. She met his gaze and found it locked on her, unblinking. The muscles in his neck were taut. She stroked harder. God, she wanted him in her mouth.

On the next stroke, his body locked, and she heard his fierce growl. “Coming. Jenna,fuck.”

She didn’t let go. She squeezed, and his release spurted on her fingers and hit her bare belly. His groan was low and sexy.

Finally, he sagged back on the bed. His dark gaze was on her, his eyelids hooded, his chest rising and falling fast.

She swallowed. She suddenly felt stripped of her defenses, her rock-solid control soft and crumbling. This man affected her like no one had before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

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