All Jacked Up (Rough Riders #8)(72)

First, he took her mouth in a savage kiss. Next, he had Keely naked, facedown on the bed. Her heart pounded crazily. Not out of fear, but out of feminine pride. She’d never affected a man this powerfully.


Never. And to affect such a strong man as Jack Donohue to the point he lost all control and became a raging beast in his quest to have her? That was a heady, once in a lifetime feeling. And she was damn well going to savor it for as long as she could.


Jack’s body heat scorched her back as he angled her ass in the air. “Do you want your vibrator?”


That was his way of saying she’d have to get herself off because her pleasure wasn’t his concern. This was all about him.


It was f*cking hot as hell.


“No.”


Jack growled. Hot, wet, openmouthed kisses trailed down her spine until his mouth met the handle of the beads. Very delicately, he licked around her stretched opening.


Lust slammed into her hard and Keely locked her knees.


He eased the beads out. Then cool gel and one slippery finger pushed in and out of her hole. More gel.


Another finger.


Oh, shit it burned. She held her breath until Jack commanded, “Breathe. Loosen up. Let me in. That’s it.” Then he screwed three fingers in deep and completely out. Satisfied by his preparation, Jack pulled her ass cheeks apart. The crown of his cock nudged her anus.


Keely breathed out as the thick head popped inside the ring of tight muscle. Before she registered the sharp pain, Jack slid the shaft into her anal passage. No stops. He fed his dick in until his balls slapped her * and he couldn’t go any deeper.


She concentrated on the musky scent of sex and sweat. Would Jack ask if she was okay? Or give her an erotic play by play of how tight and perfect her ass felt clamped around his big dick?


Jack did neither.


He f*cked her without restraint. Withdrawing the plump cockhead completely every time he pulled out. He’d rest the tip on her spasming hole and slam back in. Over and over until she began to anticipate the burning scrape of retraction. Began to crave it. She braced herself for the sweet agony of pleasure mixed with bite of pain as Jack plunged back inside her clenching channel in one solid thrust.


A strange buzzing built inside her head as he reamed her. Proved he owned her.


Jack finally spoke. “Bear down on me. Harder. Sweet mother of God.” He shoved hard, stilled behind her and roared.


She felt every hot spurt as he filled her ass with his seed. She milked every drop, until the continual clenching and unclenching of her interior muscles set off a vaginal orgasm that stole her breath.


His body shuddered as he experienced her contractions. He didn’t attempt to pull out of her bowels.


For the longest time Jack let that big dick stuff her to the point she almost got used to it.


Almost. Then he growled, “Again.”


Yeah, she’d been a little sore this morning. But Keely didn’t regret a single minute.


“Keely?”


Startled out of her vivid flashback, she faced Jack, lounging in the doorway to her bedroom. “What?”


“If you really don’t want me to come to the bar and watch you play darts tonight, I’ll understand. I was just giving you shit.”


The vulnerability Jack showed her on occasion, like now, like last night, still had the power to move her. And because he was willing to share that side of himself with her, she grinned.


“Okay. You can come. But if I hear one caterwaulin’ or goat-yodelin’ comment about the music, you’re sittin’ in the truck.”



Chapter Seventeen


Two days later…


Jack paced in his condo, waiting for Keely to arrive.


Why had she insisted on seeing where he lived?


Because you’re supposed to be engaged, dumbass.


He inhaled a deep breath. For Christsake, he shouldn’t be embarrassed. He’d paid a shitload of money for this high-rise condo with a view of the Rocky Mountains.


Jack gazed at the jagged peaks that were covered in snow year round. As a South Dakota farm kid, raised on the flat prairie, he was amazed every time he looked at the majestic mountains.


Yet the view outside presented his living room in an even more pitiable light. He hadn’t spent time or money decorating besides adding two black leather reclining Lazy Boy chairs. True, Jack had forked over serious bucks for the top of the line entertainment system with a gigantic digital flat-screen TV, and theater quality surround sound. His massive collection of DVDs was arranged alphabetically on the shelves of the entertainment center that encompassed the entire wall.


The phrase “entertainment center” caused a snort. He’d never entertained here. Never cooked. Aside from his cleaning lady, he’d never invited a woman over. He feared looks of pity or worse, calculated looks of home improvement ideas.


Working out of his home meant no water-cooler type conversations with his coworkers—but after the ugly situation with Baxter and Martine, he considered that a benefit.


Since Jack had moved to Colorado from Chicago, making money took priority over making friends.


And yeah, maybe he had crawled into a hole after Martine ditched him for Baxter. No one could blame him for holing up and licking his wounds.