Page 97 of The Jack*ss in Class

“I can’t wait to taste this, Tempest.”

God, the way he said my name, like a prayer, like a promise. “Yes.”

His mouth replaced his hand, warm and wet, and I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped me. His tongue circled my nipple before he drew it into his mouth, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My hand found his hair, fingers tangling in the damp strands as I held him to me.

Flynn shifted, sitting back, leaving me exposed to his gaze. His eyes traveled over my body with undisguised appreciation. “You’re so fucking delicious,” he said. “Every inch of you.”

I knew what I looked like. According to every magazine, TV show, and social media post, I was too round, too soft, too much in all the wrong places . But the way Flynn looked at me made me feel like I was exactly the rightsoftness, the perfect amount of round, and exactly enough in all the right places.

He kissed his way down my body, brushing his beard down my cleavage, pausing at my stomach to kiss my belly button, nibble at the stretch marks on the curve of my hip, suck on the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Each fresh territory came with him telling me exactly what he was going to do and I didn’t even realize a dirty mouth could be the best kind of request for my consent to keep going. But it was and each of my answers only fueled his hunger.

By the time his face was at the very core of me, I was a wreck of anticipation. “Spread your thighs so I can fuck your wet pussy with my mouth and make you come.”

I know I was supposed to agree out loud, but all I could do was comply with his demand.

He licked his lips and then his head was between my legs, licking, learning, tasting, teasing. Holy moly. I never would have guessed the tickle of facial hair on my inner thighs was a turn on, but whew, boy. I was telling Flynn never to shave his beard. Was beard burn on thighs a thing? I desperately wanted to find out.

When he finally licked across my clit for the first time, it made me gasp so loud, I clasped my hands over my mouth. But nothing prepared me for the way he looked up, watching my face as he brought me pleasure.

“Flynn,” I managed, my voice barely recognizable. “I need?—”

“Tell me what you need,” he encouraged. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you, inside of me,” I whispered. “Please, I need more of you.”

“Just as soon as you come for me, my queen.” He pressed my legs wider and dipped his head back down, not just licking this time, but sucking my clit into his mouth, while pressing his fingers against my entrance.

There wasn’t a rose toy or vibrator on the planet that had anything on Flynn Kingman’s mouth and beard. I went from oh-that-feels-so-good to coming so hard I was seeing stars in seconds. My back arched, and my muscles locked. The only thing I could do was feel, feel the force of the orgasm that rocked through me until I was nothing but a mass of bliss and pure pleasure.

Flynn didn’t let up until my body finally floated down from the high he’d just taken me to, and my muscles relaxed one by one. He crawled back up my body and wrapped himself around me, whispering, “You’re a god damned goddess when you come. You did so well, and taste like a fucking dream. I can’t wait to make you come on my face over and over.”

Somewhere in the haze I found my voice, though it was a little rough. “Is that what they mean when the books say he whispered sweet nothings?”

He chuckled and held me tighter. “They aren’t nothings. I mean every word.”

“Can we do that again?”

His laugh was a little choked this time. “As many times as you want.”

“What if I want something else? Something more?”

“Anything, love.”

God, this was going to sound so corny. But it’s what I wanted, more than anything else. “Make love to me.”

He rolled away suddenly, and I made a sound of protest until I realized he was reaching for his jeans. He pulled out his wallet, extracting a foil packet.

He tore the packet open, his expression turning serious. “Tempest, are you absolutely sure about this? Because once we start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. Fuck, I don’t mean that. I’ll stop mid-fucking coming if you asked me to, but?—”

I reached for him, pulling him back to me. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He rolled the condom on, then settled between my thighs, his weight supported on his forearms. I could feel him, hard and insistent, pressing against me.

His eyes searching mine. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“I will,” I promised. “But don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

He smiled at that, then kissed me deeply as he began to push inside. There was pressure, an unfamiliar stretching that bordered on discomfort but didn’t quite cross into pain. I focused on his kiss, on the feeling of his body against mine, and then he was buried deep within me, our bodies as close as two people could be.

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