Page 75 of Until You Say Stay
His hand catches my jaw, tilting my face up to his, and he pulls me against him, kissing me so hard I see stars, so thoroughly I forget my own name. He backs me up until we hit the door with a solid thud that rattles it in the frame, that probably echoes into the hallway if anyone’s out there to hear it.
Footsteps pass by outside. Voices. Someone laughs. The music pounds through the walls, bass shaking the floor under our feet.
I don’t care. Let them hear.
His hands find the clasp of my bra and it’s gone in seconds, joining our shirts somewhere on the floor. Then his mouth is on my breasts and I gasp, the sound loud even over the music still pounding through the walls. My hands fly to his hair, holding him there, and he makes this satisfied sound like my desperation is exactly what he wants.
He makes quick work of my jeans and underwear, pushing them down my hips in one smooth motion. The fabric pools at my feet. I step out of them awkwardly, almost tripping because my legs are already shaky, and kick everything aside.
For a split second I feel exposed standing here completely naked while he’s still partially clothed. But Jack’s looking at me like I’m the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. His gaze travels slowly down my body, taking his time, and everywhere his eyes touch feels like a physical caress. My skin heats under his inspection, flushing from my chest up to my cheeks.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice coming out rough and reverent at the same time. “Every part of you, Lark.”
Before I can respond, he presses against me and he’s everywhere. Like nothing else exists in the universe except this moment, except us. I can feel every hard inch of him throughhis jeans and the friction makes me gasp, makes me roll my hips against him desperately seeking more contact.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says against my ear, his breath hot on my skin, his voice wrecked. “How crazy you make me. How much I’ve wanted this.”
Oh my God.The way he says it makes my knees actually weak.
I reach for his jeans with frantic hands, fumbling with the button. Button popped. Zipper dragged down. He shoves his jeans and boxer briefs down and then?—
Oh.
His cock is huge. Bigger than any man I’ve ever been with, and part of me is wondering how that’s going to fit. I can see pre-cum glistening at the tip, evidence of how much he wants this, wants me.
Before I can wonder much longer about the logistics, he’s grabbing me and pressing me back against the door, capturing my mouth with his and kissing me so hard and desperately that I moan into his mouth without caring who might hear.
Then he’s lifting me, his hands gripping my ass like I weigh nothing. He carries me across the room toward where I vaguely remember seeing that desk, and when we reach it he sets me on the edge and sweeps his arm across the surface. Papers and pens and supplies scatter to the floor with a loud clatter that makes me laugh breathlessly.
His mouth finds my breast again and I lean back on my hands. Some small corner of my mind remembers there’s no lock on the door, that if someone came in right now they would see both of us, me spread out on this desk like an offering while Jack Midnight devours me whole.
And I don’t care.
Any bit of shyness I had has transformed completely into exhilaration. It’s like the fear I get before performing, but the thrill is too fucking good to stop, too intoxicating to resist.
His mouth moves lower, kissing down my stomach, my hip bones, teeth grazing skin, and lower still until he steps back slightly to look at me, fully naked and spread before him. His hands run up my thighs slowly, deliberately, pushing them apart wider, opening me up to his gaze.
“Fuck, Lark,” he breathes, staring with such raw intensity it makes me shiver, makes me feel seen and wanted in a way I’ve never experienced before. “Look at this perfect pussy. Already so wet for me.”
I’m panting, chest heaving, but I can’t even find it in me to be embarrassed. He looks up at me, lips hovering just above where I desperately need him, eyes questioning and hungry, looking at me like a predator through those dark lashes.
And I like it.I like the way he’s looking at me. I like feeling wanted and desired and powerful all at once.
“Lark, are you sure?” he asks, giving me one more out. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes, please, yes I want this so much,” I sound whiny and desperate and I don’t even care. I’m panting, wriggling closer to him on the desk.
He grins like the devil himself. “First I want you to beg for it.”
He punctuates this by slowly kissing my pussy, sending shivers and waves of pleasure through me but not giving me what I really need, teasing. I’ve never had a man talk to me like this before, but my body responds instantly.
“Please,” I gasp. “Jack please, I’m begging you. I need your mouth on me.” Fuck. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life.
“As you wish.” His mouth is on me properly and I cry out. The sensation of his lips and tongue on me makes my wholebody arch. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can only feel. My hands fly to his hair, gripping tight, and a broken sound escapes my throat that I don’t even recognize as my own.
“Fuck yes,” he growls. “I’ve been dying to taste this pussy. Been thinking about it all goddamn night.”
He licks me, slow and deliberate, and I whimper. My thighs start to shake. I can hear how aroused I am, the sound embarrassingly loud even over the music pounding through the walls.
