Too Hot to Handle (Romancing the Clarksons #1)(34)
Jasper pushed her legs wide with his knees, feeling her ass cheeks spread against his lap, picturing the way that black string stretched, hiding nothing. Christ. His mouth found its way into Rita’s hair, her name freeing itself on a groan. He eased up the downward pressure of his body long enough to slide the vibrator beneath her hips, pushing lower until it met the juncture of her thighs. Right over her clit. And then Jasper dropped the weight of his hips down, pinning Rita between him and the massager. Pressing, pressing.
“Oh my God,” she screamed, clawing at the comforter. “I can’t…you can’t. It’s too much. I don’t usually…”
“What?” It actually hurt to speak because he was exerting so much will to keep his hips still, keep himself from thrusting into the valley of her ass. Fuck, he could feel every inch of her through his jeans. The image of that little black shoestring wedged in between two tight cheeks blazed in his mind. “You don’t usually what?”
“Do it that hard. Or that…much.” She drew that last word out until it became a whimper of his name. “Jasper.”
“Play offense,” he demanded in her ear. “Push down into it. Fuck yourself up against it. I’ll help you get where you need to go, beautiful. You answered the door begging for something bad from me. So that’s what I’m giving you. You and this sweet, neglected *. Now f*ck your vibrator.”
For a split second, worry broke through Jasper’s lust craze. Had he gone too far? He’d all but ambushed her since walking into the room. His needs—he’d been capable of holding them off until Rita. Rita, Rita. God, no one had ever felt this good, smelled this good, sounded this good. This right. Living without sex hadn’t even been difficult until he’d seen her stranded on the road. Now there seemed to be no way to stem the flow of want. The goddamn pressure of it was so immense he couldn’t stop putting marks all over the clean slate she’d given him.
“All for you,” he chanted against the back of her neck. “All for you.”
When he felt Rita’s hips give a prolonged downward roll, they both expelled muffled curses into the dark room, where the only other sound competing with them was the noisy air conditioner. “Go on, Rita. Move. You have no choice, do you? Not with me holding you down, keeping your clit right up against that buzz.” He slid his knees back, applying a touch more of his weight down onto her ass, and she curled her fists into the comforter with a cry. “Nowhere to go. No way to escape. Not until you rub your * on the offering in my hand and come like you’re told.” He breathed into her ear. “Go on, beautiful. I won’t tell anyone.”
Whether it was modesty that had been holding her back or fear of too much intensity, Jasper felt Rita’s tether snap. And, f*ck, did it ever snap. He’d never felt a woman move like Rita, so fluid, like water running over smooth stones. The movements started in her shoulders and rolled down, through her back and over her hips, not even stopping when it reached her thighs. Oh, no. They moved, too, pushing apart and back together with the use of her knees. Jasper’s lower body caged her against the mattress, but she might as well have had him caged, too, because he wasn’t going anywhere. Couldn’t.
“Jesus, the way you move your ass,” Jasper gritted out. “You might as well be giving me a hand job right now, Rita, with those pretty white cheeks moving up and down on either side of my cock.”
“Oh—oh my God. I—please.”
There was no help for him after that because Rita—seeming to be encouraged by his filthy talk—only started to move faster, simulating sex as they bore down on the pleasure device. Up until her hips started to pump in obvious desperation, up until her moans started to crack and shatter, Jasper had managed to remain stationary, merely providing the downward pressure. Now, though, their hips began to move in tandem, their breaths breaking free in violent bursts.
“We’re f*cking it together now, aren’t we, beautiful? Grinding down, making it feel so damn good.” Jasper used his panting mouth to push her hair to one side, giving him access to lick up and down her neck, hips never ceasing their quickening thrusts. “Who’re you going to think about every time you use this thing? Every time you’re alone in your bed, lights off, panties down.”
“Jasper,” she cried.
“I’m going to know every time you use it,” he husked against her neck. “I’ll know what you’re doing, I’ll know what speed you have it on. I’ll know you’re thinking of me pumping against your bare ass.”
God, the hand he held between her legs had grown so slippery. It would be so easy, so f*cking easy, to unfasten his pants and finish her off from behind. She was the definition of ready. Begging for his thrusting cock. He might have broken down and followed through, too, if he hadn’t felt Rita holding back. Just a little. Whether she was struggling against him or the pleasure, he didn’t know. But it sure as hell wasn’t working for him. He wanted everything from her. Wanted to overwhelm and satisfy her enough that she would need him again. And wasn’t that root of it all?
Jasper moved the hand between her legs in a tight, circular pattern, making sure keep the vibrations on her clit. She shuddered beneath him—hard—saying his name like a reproof. Her legs writhed, restless beside his own. Almost have her. Come on, come on. Jasper took a fistful of Rita’s hair, hauling her head back until they locked fevered eyes. There was an electric connection there. Something unexplainable that had Jasper releasing Rita’s hair and sliding his hand around her throat, exulting in the whimper that took shape against his palm.