Page 79 of Wicked Surrender

I groped for him, trying to take off his clothes, but he seemed more intent on simply kissing me and caressing me.

We eventually got naked and onto his bed, but he lacked the smug attitude and the feral desire like all the other times over the almost two months we’d known each other.

As I lay back on the bed with him hovering over me, blanketing me with his hard, hot body, I stared up at him and worried that this felt like a goodbye. Like he wanted one last time to be sweet with me and savor it before it was gone.

And with that fear, I knew how much I didn’t want to lose him.

Ever.

I couldn’t stand the thought of this wicked heat and deep connection between us fizzling out.

This was much more than a secret sexual relationship.

I cupped his face and drowned in the smoldering heat in his eyes. “Jason?”

He kissed my palm, running his hand down my side as if he wanted to map out every inch of me and hold on to the memory forever.

“I want you to know that I…” I furrowed my brow, hating how nervous I was to admit this.

“You want?” he asked, kissing along my jaw and down my neck.

“I want you to know that I care about you.”

He went still, then slowly, he lifted his dark gaze to me.

“I care about you,” I repeated. “I was just thinking that we’ve prioritized, um, satisfying each other like this, but I hope you know that you matter to me as more than just some guy to have fun with.”

He arched one brow, wedging himself to fit between my legs. I moved with him, welcoming him there where he could slide into me. Hugging him and lifting my leg, I enjoyed the lazy but firm caress of his hand from my knee to my hip. He dragged his fingers along my thigh until he held it up and cupped my ass.

“I shouldn’t,” I added, “but I do.” I really had no business developing true feelings for my bully. He shouldn’t deserve my affection when he couldn’t stop this inexplicable need to bully me at all.

“You shouldn’t,” he agreed, his hot breath whispering over me as he kissed me deeply. He slid into me without a rush, contradicting himself to take me but also confirming that I was right to want a buffer from him. That I could need to protect myself from him.

“I hate that,” I admitted, arching up and accepting the glorious burn of his dick filling me back and forth, in and out. “I hate that I have an instinct to be wary of you.”

He kissed me softly, his breath as labored as mine was while I tried to talk.

“Because you matter to me, Jason. You’ve come to matter so much to me.” I held his face as I kissed him and slid my tongue between his lips, tasting his spicy heat that I would always willingly let myself get addicted to.

“I don’t know why you ever chose me to bully. I don’t know why it had to be me. But I trust you. I’ve trusted you with my body. I’ve trusted you with my mind and soul.” I gasped at the dig of his fingers on my ass, a couple of them so close to my rear hole that I felt like I dripped more cream for him to smear on his thick cock.

“Fuck,” he growled, squeezing his fingers so near my ass hole.

“I trust you with my heart,” I whispered. “I trust you not to hurt me even when you say you can’t help it.”

He groaned, pulling me closer. In the effort, his fingers on my ass slipped that much nearer my rear hole, and I moaned.

Like a wanton, desperate woman, I welcomed the thrill of the taboo to want him to touch me there.

He noticed my reaction, pulling back to stare down at me.

I nodded, realizing that I’d given myself a lead into talking about trusting him withthattoo.

“Yeah?” he asked, grinning at me slowly, just as excited as I was.

“Yeah.”

Oh, God. Oh, my God.

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