Page 55 of Triggered By Love
She wanted to savor this thing, take her time, but she was surrounded by a wild man. Impatient and so hot she thought she’d burn alive, she ripped his shirt open, popping the buttons. He groaned with undisguised pleasure when she ground her belly against his massive erection, and then, before she could catch her next breath, she was in the air and plopped over Jason’s shoulder.
He lumbered, caveman style, into a small room, and they both landed on a dusty mattress covered with a red-and-black checked hunter’s blanket.
Her tank top flew one way, and she kicked off her shoes. His mouth cupped over her bra, biting and nipping as she struggled with the clasp in back. He lifted her hips enough to yank her jeans down to her knees.
She surprised herself by whipping off his belt, and then, to prolong the suspense, she palmed the bulge of his crotch, marveling at how uninhibited she’d become. From the feel of it, she was about to unleash a monster.
Usually, men slowed her down right about now, but not Jason. Her strokes made him growl with ferocity, and he demolished the rest of her clothing in short order. His mouth lit her like a fuse, sucking and nibbling. She’d never been fondled with such need, and everywhere he touched, sensations sparked and arched, increasing her desire.
She was practically panting when he kissed and licked his way down from her neck. His hot lips encircled a taut nipple, drawing it to a peak, and he palmed the other breast, massaging and filling her with a melty, engorging fullness.
He plumped and sucked, nipping and giving each breast her due, and she was practically arching off the mattress, moaning with pleasure. How was this possible? This rawness, the roughness, the edge of pain that heightened her arousal?
She didn’t know how much more of this she could take, and her insides clenched and throbbed, needing to be filled. His giant shaft was still entrapped in his pants, and now was no time to be polite.
Her hands acted on their own accord. She whipped off his belt, surprising him as he reared up on his knees. And they both fought, hands and fingers busy to unzip and discard his pants.
Out popped the nightstick of her dreams. Hot, wet, with a thick, rosy tip she wanted to suck. She licked her lips and sat up, reaching for it, and he shocked her by shoving it into her mouth.
She laved her tongue over his enormous tip and gagged when it hit the back of her throat. She’d never been manhandled like this and instead of scaring her, it was thrilling and hot.
She’d given blow jobs before, yes, she had, but she’d always been the one giving it and in control. Brando waited for her to set the pace and was extra gentle with her. No, she wouldn’t compare. This was so freaking hot, the way Jason grabbed her head and jerked his hips, taking his pleasure, not holding back, unapologetically not a gentleman.
And she loved it. She clawed at his hips, pinched his butt cheeks and wondered if she dared to tickle his anus. What if she fingered him? Would he let her? She kept her nails short because she needed to stitch by hand. Instead, she cupped his balls, and he spread his legs.
His cock bulged larger than she thought possible, and his balls drew up tight. He had to be on the verge. She wished she could lick her finger to lubricate it, but what the heck. She stroked the junction behind his balls and without warning, jammed her middle finger into his puckered hole.
He exploded, jerking and quivering, and she swallowed through his orgasm, licking him clean.
“Ave, oh, Ave, damn you’re good.” He could barely catch his breath. “How am I ever going to let you go?”
She let his cock go and gave one last stroke of his prostate gland. “Why would you want to?”
“I won’t ever.” His mouth crashed down on hers, and he covered her with his body. She fought back with all she had, wriggling and biting, kissing and scratching him. His cock had come to life again, amazingly even larger than before, and she wanted him inside, wanted him to invade, wanted to be filled to the hilt with Jason Burnett.
She spread her legs, eager, and arched up against him, but he pushed himself away, leaving her high and dry on the mattress.
A wave of rejection crashed over her head and smothered her into the blanket. She covered her eyes with her arm, blinking back the sudden surge of tears. Why didn’t he want her? Why was he backing away?
“You okay?” Jason’s voice tore at her, and she rolled into a fetal position. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?”
“No, no. Why’d you stop? Do you think I’m bad? Did I go too far?”
“No, I was looking for this.” He dropped a condom packet into her hand. “You know you’re so insecure you’re cute?”
Her cheeks burned, but when had she become so unsure of herself? She’d always been attractive. That had been the bane of her existence. Pretty girls didn’t fare well when their fathers knew powerful old men. Pretty girls didn’t stay girls for long—not among the rich and endowed. And pretty girls didn’t tell tales.
Chapter Nineteen
Jason was in deep trouble.
He’d let passion cloud his control and shot far ahead of where he wanted to be with Avery. He’d freaking enjoyed her acting out, and he should have been grown up enough to realize she wasn’t ready.
“I’m okay. I swear I am.” Avery ripped open the condom packet and reached for his cock.
“No, we don’t have to. I mean, I should have held back.”
“Don’t you want me?” Her voice wobbled. “I want this. I want to reward you.”
