Page 21 of Cupid's Beau

“This is becoming a habit,” I murmur, hyper-aware of his solid chest under my palm, the subtle scent of his cologne. Everything that’s Jack Ellis.

“Any complaints?” His voice is low, intimate, and it does things to my insides.

I tilt my face up to find him already looking down at me, firelight catching the angles of his face. “Not a single one.”

His hand slides up my back, bringing me even closer. My fingers curl into his sweater as his other hand releases mine to cup my face. When he kisses me it’s heat and hunger and the feeling that we’ve been moving toward this moment since I first saw Jack in my parents’ lobby.

I rise on my toes, deepening the kiss, and he makes a sound low in his throat that sends heat spiraling through me. He tastes so fucking good, feels even better this close. His mouth trails down my neck. Leaving wet, hot open-mouthed kisses over my tingling skin.

“Jack…” My voice comes out breathless.

His lips find mine again, hungrier this time. Demanding. Like he’s done trying to fight whatever this is between us. Tongue swirling with mine. Tasting every corner of my mouth. It’s hot, filthy, primal.

His hands slide to my hips, and in one smooth motion he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us backward until my back meets the cool window. The contrast with his warmth makes me gasp against his mouth.

“Bedroom?” he growls against my neck, biting me softly.

“Yes, please,” I moan.

Jack carries me up the stairs like I weigh nothing, his mouth never leaving mine. Somehow we make it to his room - more windows, moonlight spilling across a massive bed.

He sets me down gently, pulling back to look at me. The heat in his eyes makes me shiver.

“You’re sure?”

Instead of answering, I grab his sweater and pull him down to me. He comes willingly, covering my body with his, and then it’s all hands, lips and desperation. His sweater hits the floor, followed by mine. The first touch of skin on skin pulls ragged sounds from both of us.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, then his mouth is trailing fire down my throat, across my collarbone, lower, lower…

Jack makes a satisfied sound when he gets to the top of my jeans. His gaze locks with mine, wicked, as he pops the button anddrags the zipper down slowly. I lift my hips, desperate for more, but he keeps going so damn slow.

By the time my jeans hit the floor, I want to beg him to hurry. But Jack clearly knows what he wants and isn’t about to be rushed. He’s got a look of fierce concentration, and it’s hot as hell.

He kisses the soft flesh above the lace edge of my underwear. I moan and fist the sheets. His tongue swirls around my hip bone, and his fingers hook in the elastic band, dragging them down my thighs.

He stops, kneeling between my legs, just looking at me.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers.

“Jack, please,” I pant.

The smile he gives me is pure sin, and then he’s spreading me wide.

“Fuck, Jack!” I cry, back arching.

He laughs darkly, sending vibrations straight to my core. And then his mouth is there. Hot and hungry. Sucking, licking, kissing, and nibbling.

He eats me like a man starved, like I’m his last meal, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

My orgasm hits without warning, and my thighs clamp around his head. He only grips me tighter, not letting up.

When the waves recede, I try to move away. “Please. I can’t take anymore.”

He looks up, his beard glistening and his smile wolfish.

“Just one more, for me, please,” he says kissing me deep and wet, making me taste myself.

Then his mouth is back on my pussy, licking, sucking, driving me fucking insane. This time when I come, the sound I make is a sob.

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