Page 32 of Carry Me Home
The lookon his face as I stared up at him from my knees was priceless. Absolutely fucking priceless. Hungry and desperate and so clearly fighting with himself to do the right thing.
I could not be less interested in doing the right thing.
I tugged his belt through the clasp, but his large hand descended on mine, stopping me.
“You don’t ever have to get on your knees to thank me,” he roughed out. “Not fucking ever.”
“This isn’t a thank you,” I said, but I wondered if maybe it was, a little bit. I was used to sticking up for myself, with varying levels of success. Mostly I got smacked back down again because truthfully, I was never the one in a position of power.
But Jack. He had power, the kind that no one could take from him. It was carved into every fiber of his being, woven through the muscles and sinew and bone. And he had used it to protectme. No one had ever stood up for me before, not even Claire, who was more likely to broker peace than stand by my side in a battle. Watching him put that fucker on the ground made heat pool low in my belly.
“Then what is it?” he asked, his blue eyes finding mine.
“A fuck you to my parents.”
The bulge in his jeans made my mouth water. With his hands still holding mine hostage, I used the only tools at my disposal. I nuzzled against him, dragging my nose up his twitching dick, then gently bit him through his jeans. The groan that ripped from his throat was downright feral.
I looked up at him from under my eyelashes as I dragged my tongue over the cotton. “I hope that’s okay with you,” I murmured.
His hands spasmed against mine. “Someone could walk in.”
Well, look at that. I just got wetter. “I hope they fucking do. I hope they see their daughter on her knees, being a total slut for the man who protected her because they were too weak to do it themselves.” I smirked. “Who knows, maybe they’ll learn something.”
“Fuck,” he choked out. He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned my face up. “How can I be this turned on and also seriously worried about your mental health?”
I snickered. “Don’t worry, soldier. I’m seeing a therapist.” I licked my lips. “I really think sucking your dick could cure me, though.”
“Janie.”
“Yes or no, Jack. Consent is important.” My hands were free now, but I didn’t move them while I waited for his signal.
He exhaled roughly. “Fuck. Yes.”
“That’s my good boy,” I purred.
His head tipped back on a groan as I worked the buckle and zipper of his jeans. When I pulled them down, his enormous cock bounced free. Damn, I really hadn’t imagined it. For months I’d wondered if I’d built that night up in my head. But no. It truly was a porn dick. I ran my tongue over my teeth andpeeked up at him. His eyes were glowing like blue fire as he stared intently back at me.
God, I was going to enjoy making a mess of him.
I wrapped my palm around the heavy length of him and squeezed. His lips parted but he didn’t break eye contact. I leaned forward, guiding his dick to my mouth. The head bumped gently against my lips and I felt a dampness there. I parted my lips and swiped the flat of my tongue over his slit, lapping up the drop of precum.
“Fuucccckkkk,” he hissed, his hands going to either side of my head. His hips flexed, pushing the crown of his dick into my mouth.
But I wanted more. Palms flat against his muscular thighs, I sucked him deeper into my mouth, taking him so deep that I almost gagged. I paused to breathe, eyes watering, and then took him even further. His fingertips dug into scalp, roughing up my sleek ponytail. It only spurred me on.
Let him make a mess of me, too. I wanted that.
I pulled back off with a wet popping sound that echoed against the marble floor. My eyes locked on his, taking in the way his broad chest rose and fell on heavy breaths. I leaned over his cock and spit, then rubbed my saliva around the crown with my thumb, loving the way he watched me like a man possessed. And then I went right back in, suctioning my lips to his dick with a hum of satisfaction.
And he fucking lost it.
Groaning my name, his hips snapped forward. “God, your mouth. So fucking perfect. You’re perfect, Janie.”
My mouth was too full of him to answer, but I sucked harder because I fucking loved hearing him say that. No matter how hard I tried, I could never be the perfect daughter. I wasn’t a perfect mother, and god knew I had given that my all. But here, on my knees, Jack thought I was perfect.
Maybe a blowjob really could heal me.
His thrusts turned frantic, his breathing choppy. “Fuck, Janie, I’m going to blow. If you don’t want my cum down your throat?—”
