Page 66 of Powerless
Jasper drags his lips along the top of my cheekbone, his stubble rasping over my skin, dotting it in tiny fires that I never want to put out.
He kisses the corner of my jaw and when the tip of his tongue flicks out, I moan. Shamelessly. Desperately.
He tugs me closer. His strong arm wraps around my waist, and he clamps me to him.
“Jasper,” I whisper.
In response he fists my hair and tugs my head to the side, dragging his hot mouth down and then back up my neck. I squeeze my legs tighter on him, hearing only the pounding of my heart in my ears and the deep groaning sound that vibrates from his chest.
“I can’t ever lose you,” he growls.
“You won’t,” I reply quietly, right as the tip of his nose traces the shell of my ear.
“I might.”
“Nev—”
Before I can saynever,he cuts me off with, “Because I think I’m about to fuck everything up between us.”
And then he kisses me.
His lips mold to mine and his fingers weave into my hair as his grip turns soft.
I go still with shock—utter disbelief—and when I do, he stops, pulling away as his warm palm slides down over my throat to look me in the eye.
“I’m sor—”
I cut him off by launching myself back at him. And he doesn’t miss a fucking beat.
He doesn’t kiss me like a friend. He kisses me back with equal fervor. He kisses me like he wants to consume me.
And he does.
His hands are hot brands on my body, touching and squeezing in places I’ll never forget. His lips are warm and firm. He’s gentle but he commands me. He tilts my head the way he wants it. He sets the pace for our languid kisses until he takes on a more demanding pace.
Until his tongue slides into my mouth and his teeth nip at my bottom lip.
And me? I turn to putty in his arms. I’ve been lost to him for years, but today in a quiet truck, in the middle of a snowstorm, I let myself get lostinhim.
He takes and I give.
I take and he gives.
I roll my hips against his and he groans out, “Sloane.”
The hand in my hair tightens, and I feel the dull burn of him tugging against my scalp. His opposite hand moves lazily down my rib cage, coming to rest at my hip, long fingers splayed casually over the curve of my ass, his thumb rubbing against the outline of my thong.
Everything is slow. Achingly slow. So representative of us in so many ways. But there’s also an edge of desperation in us both.
A hard bite to every movement.
My nipples pebble. My heart pounds. My body is alight. My hips roll again.
This time the hard length of him presses back. I whimper, aroused and relieved all at once. I’ve spent years thinking Jasper Gervais couldn’t want me, but right now his body tells another story.
And so do his words.
“Sunny, you’re gonna make me lose my mind.”
