More Than This (More Than, #1)(72)

“God, Mikayla. You are so damn beautiful.” His mouth lifts on one side, “Is this what you bought that-" I nod. It’s the one I bought when we went to the mall with Julie. “It’s about f*cking time I got to see it.”

I laugh as he rips his shirt and pants off, leaving on his boxers.

When his body hovers over mine and I can feel the skin on skin sensation, a guttural moan escapes my mouth before I can stop it.

His mouth is on my neck kissing me and his hands are all over the place like they can’t get enough.

He looks up at me.

Then leans up and puts his weight on his elbows. Our parts joined together. My lace panties and his boxers the only barrier.

“As much as I love what you’re wearing, and that you’re wearing them for me, I’d prefer that you didn’t have anything on.”

I nod my head and he understands my meaning.

Slowly, and effortlessly he unclips my bra and removes the straps of my shoulder, kissing the skin left behind. Once it’s off, his body hovers lower, he’s kissing my bare stomach and his fingers curl around the band of panties, he has to be able to tell how turned on I am, and how badly I need him.

Slowly, so f*cking slowly, he begins to pull down my panties until they’re on the floor. He sits on his heels and looks at me.

His eyes darting all over my body.

His body comes back up and lays next to me. Him on his side facing me. Me on my back, head turned, facing him.

His hand moves hair out of my face, then rests on my stomach.

“Shit, Mikayla. I’m going to regret this,” he breaths out.

“Regret what?” His hands start to move lower and lower.

So close.

“I want to kiss you so bad.” He eyes my lips and licks his, before moving back to my eyes.

“So why don’t you?”

“Because if I kiss you, then I’ll want to taste you, and if I taste you, then I’ll need to f*ck you. And when I f*ck you, it means your mine. And when I make you mine, I want it to be in our bed. Not a hotel room… Is that okay?”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.


I’m so f*cking turned on, an uncontrollable cry escapes and before I know it, his boxers are off and he’s flipping me on top off him, I’m straddling him and my wet heat is on his bare hard dick and he’s moving us so were grinding, but not so that he’s inside, and it’s so intense I think I’m legit crying from the pleasure of it.

“God, Kayla. I just want to feel you,” he whispers.

One hand is reaching the back of my neck and the other is holding my ass.

I want to scream.

It feels so f*cking good.

And I can’t even comprehend if I’m making any noises in reality or if the screams are just in my head.

And then…

He leans his head forward and takes my nipple in his mouth and he sucks, and licks and oh f*ck…

He’s pushing up and I’m moving back and forth. My wetness alone sleeked over both our parts. His hand squeezing my ass, hurts in all the good ways.

I don’t know if my eyes are closed or if the world has just stopped existing.

The build up is so powerful and I’m trying to hold off because I want to feel like this for the rest of my fricken life.

His mouth moves from my breasts and goes to my neck and I lower myself onto him, and he’s thrusting up and hitting a spot I didn’t know could be hit.

Now, I know all the sounds that were in my head, are out loud in reality because my throat is scratchy.

“Fuck, Kayla. I’m so f*cking close.” He starts moving faster on me and thats all it takes.

“OH FUCK!” I scream, while he moans out the most manliest sound I’ve ever f*cking heard.

At some point, he has enough respect for the other hotel guests that he grabs the back of my head and plasters my face into his neck so it catches most of my scream.

I’m riding every wave panting ‘holy f*ck’ the entire time.

When it’s over he starts to chuckle.

I sit up and cock my head at him questioningly.

“You are so f*cking loud, Kayla. Jesus, we need to work on that.”


Chapter 45


Mikayla


HOLE. EE. SHIT.

I feel sorry for all the girls in the world that never get to experience a Jake Andrews at least once in their lifetime.


***


I look at him with my nose scrunched, disgusted look on my face.

“It’s not at all what the rap videos make it seem like,” he’s laughing to himself.

We’re having dinner at the hotel restaurant the next day and we somehow got to talking about strip clubs, I don’t know how.

“So you guys weren’t sitting in red leather booths with ‘stunna’ shades, making it rain money?”

He laughs out loud, causing other diners to glare it him.

“No, Kayla, it most definitely was not like that. More like, sticky pleather chairs, making it rain germs.” He mocks a disgusted shiver.

The waitress comes over for our drinks order, never once looking at me, her eyes glued to Jake, eye f*cker.

“I’ll have a beer,” Jake says calmly. “What about you, baby? Champagne with ice?”

I nod, and smile.

“Make it two of each, we’re on our honeymoon,” he says to the waitress, who then looks at me like she just realized I was sitting here.