Too Hot to Handle (Romancing the Clarksons #1)(68)
Closing in on Rita, he pressed his lap to her tush, his right hand sliding around to grip her *. “You wouldn’t be going slow on purpose, now, would you, Rita?”
A feminine whimper, a dip of her knees, was his answer.
“Get it done,” he rasped into her hair. “So I can get you done.”
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she chanted, her movements far less graceful now that he was rocking his cock against her bottom, groaning with the need to f*ck. Her hips bumped against the counter with the motion of his body. When he decided a minute had passed, he stepped to the side and delivered a spanking that echoed off the walls of his kitchen. Arrested by Rita’s profile, Jasper watched her go through so many reactions at once he couldn’t name them all and settle on delighted outrage.
“Clock’s ticking, beautiful,” he husked, conforming his lap to her bottom once again, getting back into that dirty, rolling rhythm. Squeezing her compact * in a way that might be distracting to her but turned him inside out. Had him growling into the back of her neck. “Such a hot f*cking piece.”
“I-I can’t think.”
“Don’t think, then.” He looked over her shoulder to find her holding the bowl over the baking dish, getting ready to pour. Almost there. “Just do.”
After only a slight hesitation, Rita let the batter fold over itself—again and again—into the dish. Slowly, like ribbons falling from steady hands. Not even faltering when his palm glanced off her backside twice more. Knowing the moment was more important than his rampant need, Jasper released Rita, allowing her to insert the dish into the oven and carefully close the door.
Rita’s radiant smile when she faced him again almost knocked him over. “Get over here,” he said instead of letting gravity take him.
The command emerged despite his throat being strangled, thankfully bringing Rita running the three steps separating them. She leaped into his arms, legs sliding around his hips like a wet dream. There was no way to hold back now. Jasper set to devouring Rita’s mouth, tongue-f*cking it, blissing out over the greediness of her fingers in his hair. “You did it,” he murmured, pulling away just enough to deliver the praise she deserved. “You did it, Rit—”
Apparently, Rita only wanted praise of the physical variety, and that was just goddamn fine with Jasper. He reversed their positions, ramming Rita’s tight body up against the refrigerator. Giving her lewd thrusts right through his jeans, her thong. Her head fell back against the hard surface, giving him the arch of her neck to feast on.
“I know when my woman needs a f*ck.” Jasper yanked aside Rita’s thong, then set about unzipping his jeans. “I know all about it, don’t I?”
“Was it the naked cooking that tipped you off—”
Jasper cut off her sarcasm with a nip of her earlobe. “Knew you were a smart-ass when I spotted you on the side of the road.”
Her laughter was pure, free exhilaration. “A smarter man would’ve kept driving.”
“No,” he snapped. Then softer, “No. If you were stranded on that road every day, from now until eternity, I would stop, every single time. I would replay the last few days over and over again, trying to change the outcome.”
“The outcome?”
“Yeah.” Maybe it was the clear quality of her gaze, the impending sense of finality, but honesty poured forth like the soufflé batter, twisting and spreading. “There might have been something I could have done differently along the way. Something to make it impossible for you to leave. I’d do it over until I got it right.”
And the flash of genuine sympathy in her eyes was not welcome. Not welcome to a man who was hours from having his heart dragged away like cans on the back of a rented limousine. It pissed him off good. His common sense sent a memo to his male pride and was staunchly rejected. “Jasper…”
“Let’s use that mouth for kissing, instead of saying things you don’t mean,” he said, retrieving a condom from his pocket, ripping the wrapper open with his teeth. He tasted the trepidation in Rita’s kiss when their lips tangled again, but licked her tongue until it melted away. Turned into breathy sounds and writhing hips. Jasper used his body to brace Rita against the refrigerator and reached between them to roll on the condom. “Round two, Rita.”
He pushed himself home, already halfway to a climax from hearing Rita’s shocked intake of breath. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” He sucked her lower and upper lips in turn, scraping his teeth over the curve of her neck, harder than necessary. “Feels real good after you’ve been acting the cock tease, doesn’t it?”
There was anger in his voice, punishment in his harsh movements, but nothing could curtail it. Rita didn’t want him to, either. It was easy to tell by the way she absorbed his first thrust with almost a relieved cry, thighs tightening around his hips. Maybe she even wanted to be punished on some level for leaving him. Jasper hated the idea of that, but his body didn’t pay the logistics any mind. It wanted sustenance, and Rita was a royal feast.
“God, Rita. I can feel that little lace edge of your thong rubbing up and down my cock.” He gave her a full minute of nonstop bucking, stopping only when her * locked up, a telltale sign she was near the edge. She wailed and dug her nails into his shoulders when he paused, but she settled when he started a slow bump and grind. “Yeah, beautiful. Fucking is that much sweeter when you’ve driven a man to the point where he wants to jack off in his own kitchen, isn’t it?” He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder and groaned. “I’m not finishing you down here. You’re going to leave your scent in my bed, you understand me?”