Page 117 of Forever Wild
“You want me to fuck you harder?” he asks. His tone is tightly controlled but I can tell he’s struggling not to spiral right along with me.
“Yes.” I dig my nails into his shoulders.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Jack.”
“I love the way you say my name, but I had something else in mind.”
My brain, foggy with lust, struggles to comprehend his words, but then it hits me.
“Yes, Cap.”
He growls and then rewards me by slamming his hips down and pushing his dick even farther. He fucks me with all the strength and stamina I knew he was capable of. I’m falling apart and squeezing him as he continues to piston in and out, and as soon as one orgasm trails off, another one is right there. I feel like I could fly and combust at the same time. Jack finds his release, burying his dick inside me and his head into the crook of my neck.
“Yours.” His voice is little more than a growl. “I’m yours.”
We lie together naked in bed for a while after, talking and kissing, and then have sex again. Eventually, we put on clothes and Jack orders room service.
Over salad and turkey club sandwiches, I show Jack the pictures of the house all staged and ready to list.
He takes my phone and flips through the professional photographs that will go up with the listing first thing Monday. I’m a nervous wreck, but happy with how it turned out.
“This is incredible, Ev. You did such a good job. I love the furniture in the living room.”
“You do?” I ask, beaming at him. His approval makes me giddy. If Jack likes it, then other rich people with money to purchase a three-million-dollar lake house will too.
“Yeah. It’s perfect. What’s the listing price?”
“Two point nine, but they’re going low and hoping for multiple offers to drive the price up. They want to sell quickly.”
“Really?” His brows lift. “It’ll go for well above that.”
“You think so?”
He nods, still flipping through the photos. “Definitely.”
I beam.
“I love it. Truly.”
Something in his words makes me pause. The look on his face is one I’ve seen many times: determination and interest.
“No,” I say, suddenly realizing his curiosity isn’t just because I staged it. “You can’t buy this house.”
I swipe my phone back from him.
“Why not?” he asks with a small laugh. “I’ve been thinking about investing in another house, something on the water not too far away so I can use it in the summers while still having quick access to get back if needed.”
“You can’t buy my house,” I say.
“Technically it’s not yours, and I think I can.”
“No. I’m not even supposed to show these photos to anyone.”
He takes another bite of his sandwich.
“I’m serious. This is important to me. My career depends on this, and I want to do it on my own.”
