Page 99 of Most Likely to Deny Love

“Jack, please,” I whispered, reaching for him.

He caught my wrists, pinning them above my head with one large hand while the other traced a path down my body, between my breasts, over my stomach, to the apex of my thighs. When his fingers found me, already slick and ready, he groaned.

“So wet for me already,” he said, circling my clit with teasing pressure.

I arched into his touch, desperate for more. “Yes, always.”

His fingers slipped inside me, stretching and filling, but not enough, never enough. I rolled my hips, trying to take him deeper, but he withdrew, ignoring my whimper of protest.

“Turn over,” he ordered, releasing my wrists. “On your hands and knees.”

I complied eagerly, positioning myself as he’d demanded. The cool air of the room caressed my heated skin as I waited, trembling with anticipation. I felt the bed dip as he moved behind me, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks.

The first slap against my ass came without warning, the sharp sting melting immediately into pleasure that had me crying out. Before I could recover, he did it again, harder this time, on the other cheek.

“God, yes,” I gasped. “More, Jack. Please.”

He obliged, delivering another slap that had me rocking forward, followed by the soothing caress of his palm over the heated skin. The contrast of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, each sharp sting followed by melting warmth that sent waves of arousal through my core. I’d never experienced anything like it.

When my ass was hot and tingling, he pulled my hair, forcing my back to arch as he positioned himself behind me. I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, teasing but not entering.

“Beg me,” he growled, tugging my hair again to expose my throat.

“Please, Jack,” I whimpered, desperate now. “Fuck me. Please, I need you inside me.”

He thrust into me with one hard, powerful stroke, filling me completely. I cried out, the sensation overwhelming. Pleasure edged with the perfect amount of pain. He gave me no time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that had the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust.

One hand remained tangled in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. Every thrust pushed me closer tothe edge, the angle allowing him to hit that perfect spot inside me that had me writhing.

“You’re mine,” he growled against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasped, the word barely recognizable through my ragged breathing. “I’m yours, Jack.”

His rhythm faltered for a moment, something shifting between us, before he resumed with even greater intensity. The hand on my hip slid around to find my clit.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with exertion. “Now, Mia.”

My orgasm slammed into me, my inner muscles clenching around him as I cried out his name. He fucked me through it, relentless, drawing out my pleasure until I was shaking and incoherent.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he pulled out, flipping me onto my back. His eyes were wild, his hair disheveled, his chest heaving with exertion. Without a word, he spread my thighs and lowered his head between them.

The first touch of his tongue against my oversensitive flesh had me arching off the bed with a strangled cry. He held me down, his strong hands keeping my hips pinned as he devoured me with single-minded focus. His tongue circled my clit before dipping lower, fucking into me with pointed precision that had me building toward another peak embarrassingly quickly.

When he slid two fingers inside me, curling to find that perfect spot inside me while his tongue continued its relentless assault on my clit, I shattered again, my thighs trembling around his head as pleasure crashed through me in overwhelming waves.

Before I could recover, he was moving up my body, positioning himself between my legs once more. This time whenhe entered me, it was slower, more controlled, his eyes locked on mine as he filled me inch by exquisite inch.

“I want to see your face when you come again.” he said, his voice hoarse with need.

He set a deliberate pace, each thrust deep and thorough. One hand cupped my breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak of my nipple before pinching it just hard enough to make me gasp. His other hand slid beneath my ass, tilting my hips to allow him even deeper.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him closer, my hands clutching at his shoulders, his back, anywhere I could reach. The coil of pleasure was building again, impossibly, a third time, my entire body humming with sensation.

“Jack,” I whispered, his name a prayer on my lips. “I’m close again.”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his rhythm never faltering. “One more time for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

The endearment, so unexpected in the midst of our feral coupling, pushed me over the edge. My third orgasm washed over me in gentle waves, less intense but somehow deeper than the others. Jack followed moments later, his hips stuttering against mine as he buried himself to the hilt, a groan tearing from his throat as he emptied himself inside me.

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