Page 46 of The Surrender
I shut him up, claiming his mouth again, as he starts to thrust smoothly, in and out. I’m sure I could kiss him all night long, but he breaks away and pulls out, starting to kiss his way down my body. My spine bends, my eyes close, my skin soaking up the pressure of his mouth, my muscles tightening the farther down my body he gets. Cool air brushes across my opening, before his teeth nibble at the insides of my thighs.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I whisper, every bit of me undulating in anticipation of his hot mouth on me.
“Hmm.” His tongue flicks the tip of my clit, and I cry out, reaching for his hair and pulling. “Violence will get you nowhere,” he rasps, flicking again.
My legs spread wider, my hand on his head applying pressure. I look up at the ceiling, groaning as he licks gently up my core, circling slowly, before plunging his tongue deep. My hips lift off the bed, but Jude soon forces me back down, holding me in place with one forearm across my stomach.
“Jesus,” I whisper, feeling the pleasure rushing forward as he sucks, laps, kisses, moaning his way through, making a feast of me.
My mouth open, I look down my front, seeing his head bob and turn, his hair in disarray. He peeks up, his eyes misty, his mouth never faltering in driving me wild. I don’t need to tell him I’m about to detonate. He must see it in my eyes, feel it in the stiffening of my body, because he tightens his hold of me, licks faster, kisses harder, sucks deeper.
“Oh God!” I force myself to keep his eyes, the sight taking me to the brink faster. It hits me between my legs like a freight train, lifts me off the bed, racks my body, shakes me violently. “Fucking hell.” The sensitivity is too much. “Softer,” I order, making him ease off, every piece of me sinking into the bed, twitching, as Jude laps gently, letting me ride the waves of my release. I’m sweating. Breathless. Burning up. “Oh my God,” I gasp, feeling him crawl up the bed, the tip of his erection dragging across my thigh. “I need a moment.”
“Tough.” He rolls me onto my front and pushes a leg out, giving him room, and eases inside on a sigh, breathing in. “Jesus, you’re still throbbing.”
I close my eyes and absorb his pounds, clenching at the pillow, wincing at how hard and deep he’s going. But I sustain it. Take it. Relish it. It doesn’t take him long, and I’m grateful, not because of the power, but because I’m completely shattered. Literally, fucked to death. He collapses on my back, his hips thrusting slowly as he bites at my ear, making me shudder.
“Hmm, this is nice,” he whispers, his arms coming up and framing my head. He licks the shell of my ear, nibbling the lobe.
“Stop or I’ll want to go again.”
“Not a problem with me.”
“I need to recover.”
“Then hurry up and recover.”
I smile into the darkness, the weight of him covering me lush, and let myself drift off, warm, cosy, safe, and more in love with every minute that passes.
My eyes spring open when I feel Jude peel off my back. “Food’s here,” he whispers, sliding out of me. “To be continued.” He gets up and goes to a chair, tugging on some boxers.
“Come back,” I grumble, rolling onto my side, arms stretched out. “I’m cold.”
“Here.” Jude throws me a T-shirt and heads out, and I pull it on, mumbling my displeasure as I tie up my hair.
“Two desserts? Lucky me.” I smile when I hear him laughing, retrieving my knickers from the floor and getting them on.
Jude’s already got his mouth wrapped around one half of his club sandwich when I make it to the kitchen, humming his pleasure. A blob of mayonnaise sits on the corner of his lip.
“That good?” I ask, rounding the island to him. Jesus, he must have been starving; he’s not even sat himself down to eat.
“The best club sandwich you’ll ever try,” he garbles, stilling when I lift on my tippy-toes and move in on his mouth.
“You have something here,” I whisper, licking the mayonnaise away.
“Thanks.” He swallows. “If I wasn’t ravenous, you’d be on that counter now taking another pounding.” He sinks his teeth back into his sandwich around a cheeky smile as I laugh my way round the island and hop on a stool, reaching for the metal dome on the tray and lifting it off.
“Oh, yum.” My mouth waters as I sink a spoon into the meringue and scoop up some strawberries and cream. “I’ve had a better offer.” I pop it in my mouth on a hum. My God, the cream is rich, the strawberries succulent and sweet, the meringue crisp on the outside, chewy on the inside.
“Is it gooey inside?” he asks, craning his head to see.
“Perfectly.”
“Steady on,” he mumbles around his mouthful as I go in for another spoonful.
“You want me to save you some?”
“Looks like I’m hoping.” He picks up his plate and joins me, dunking a french fry in the pot of mayo and popping it in his mouth. The lack of creases on his tummy when he’s sitting is sickening. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, a definite edge of caution lacing his words. “About your friends.”
