Page 30 of Cupid's Beau

“Stop fucking talking.”

His free arm curls around my shoulders.

He pulls me down and kisses me, his tongue sliding between my parted lips, his beard scratching my skin.

He shifts his hips, changing the angle and hitting that perfect spot inside me.

He drives into me, and a scream rips from my throat.

I’m so close.

So, so close.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“Jack.”

“Say it, Neneh.”

“I’m yours. Just, please…please let me come.”

His hand drops between our bodies, and he brushes the pad of his thumb over my clit.

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

He thrusts once more, and I fall apart.

It’s so good.

So damn good.

Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me, and my pussy grips his thick shaft, squeezing, pulsing, milking him.

“God,” he chokes out.

His big body trembles, and a raw, guttural sound erupts from his throat as his cock kicks and his cum fills me.

Then he goes still.

My cheek rests against his shoulder.

Our harsh breathing the only sound in the room.

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

“Yeah.”

Look at us, the Oscar-winning screenwriter and best-selling author. So eloquent.

5

Chapter 5

“We should probably go back to civilization,” I murmur, though I make no move to leave the warmth of Jack’s arms. We’ve spent three days in our island bubble - cooking, talking. Me, definitely not writing.

“Probably.” His fingers trace patterns on my bare skin. The morning light streaming through the windows turns his eyes an impossible shade of blue. “I could get used to this.”

“To what? Being a hermit on your secret island?”

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