Crashed Out (Made in Jersey, #1)(19)

Jasmine shot forward and captured his mouth, the kiss desperate. Sarge growled when their tongues met, testosterone gripping him below the belt. There was a warning in the back of his mind, reminding him Jasmine was only avoiding a conversation, but his body felt only the pull of need radiating from her. Physical need. It called to his own and swamped his good intentions. “Tell me now where you want this to go,” he rasped, drawing on her bottom lip. “If we’re going to f*ck, I need to blow off some steam first. You’ve had my cock hard since this morning, and I’m already right on the edge.”

Her fingers flexed on his shoulders, digging into muscle. “I don’t…I’m not ready to go there yet.” She spread her knees wider on the couch, rubbing herself against his bulge with a whimper. “But w-we shouldn’t be doing this, Sar—”

Sarge interrupted her with an openmouthed kiss, an aggressive one that bent her backward over his thighs. “Got it, baby. No f*cking.” He hooked his fingers under the hem of her tank top. “You going to let me see your tits, though, Jas? Going to let me have a suck of those tips?” Through the material of her tank, he licked over one pointed peak. “If you let me take this tank top off, I can f*ck you without taking out my cock.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Jasmine whipped the white material over her head, tossing it beside them on the couch. Sarge almost went off in his jeans. Jesus. Jesus. His youth had been filled with prayers that those breasts would spill out of her bathing suit top, but seeing them up close and personal blew his fantasy to hell. “Gorgeous,” he managed. “They’re…you are gorgeous.”

Why did she look surprised? As if no one had told her in a while. “Show me.”

Sarge gripped Jasmine’s ass and yanked her close, swallowing a groan at the new positioning of his cock, wedged between her * and his stomach. Hunger to taste had him salivating, licking his lips as he leaned in to draw on her nipples. When Sarge finally got there, finally suctioned his lips around one straining, rose-tinted bud, the hunger turned desperate. The unfulfilled needs of his past packed themselves into a right hook, knocking out present Sarge, leaving only the starved, frustrated young man he’d been those years ago. He wasn’t gentle about drawing Jasmine close, so close she was grinding down on his hard dick just by breathing. His mouth slipped from one breast to the other, his parted lips dragging through the valley between with panting breaths. “Kept them from me. You kept them from me. I just wanted to see…needed to see…”

Jasmine’s fingers shook as they transferred from his shoulders to his hair, fingernails raking along his scalp. His grip on her ass gained strength, rocking his body like a ship in a storm, jerking her up and down on his erection. Although “erection” was a weak word for his entire body hovering on the brink of goddamn insanity. Jasmine. He was sucking Jasmine’s tits and his body could barely stand the inferno he’d been plunged into.

“Sarge. Please, I…oh God.” Her thighs strained from their spread position on his lap, inched a touch wider. “If y-you keep doing that, I’m going to—”

“Good.” He all but roared the word against her shiny nipple and felt a shiver pass through her undulating body. “Ride me, use me, come on me. God knows I’ve used the thought of you to come for a f*cking decade.”

Sarge grated the last word with his mouth around her nipple, then hollowed his cheeks getting that sweet peak sucked good and hard. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew his hold on her ass would leave bruises, but stopping the torment of Jasmine dry-humping him through their clothes would be far worse torture. When she climaxed, Jasmine shook like a leaf, breathy, fragmented words bursting free on gusts of breath. “Oh God…you’re…oh it’s…so good.”

Sarge watched her in awe while lapping at her nipples. One, then the other. “Want another, baby?”

Really, he was in no position to be offering her a second orgasm. The head of his cock was wet with precome, probably visible against the front of his pants. Tremors were rocking through his thighs and stomach with the urge to f*ck. To pin her down, plow himself deep, and pump like a nasty dog. This had started as a way to take the fear out of her eyes, hadn’t it? Jesus. He could barely think through the desire eating him alive. Still, if she needed more, he would find a way to hold back.

Sarge leaned in to kiss her mouth, a long, groaning kiss as his hand landed on her backside with a light slap. “You need more? Go get it, Jas. Let’s see how wet we can get that little red strip of shorts guarding your *.”

“No,” Jasmine gasped, pushing him back against the couch, her hips beginning a slow bucking motion, like a dancer in a music video. “You already gave me more. This morning…and now. But you haven’t—”

“You’re not making me come in my jeans, Jasmine.” He almost choked on the male pride that clouded up his throat. The obnoxious buzz of embarrassment left over from his teenage years. “Not now. Not as a man.”

“Yes.” Determination flared in Jasmine’s expression, and then there was nothing but the repeated stroking friction from the base of his cock up…back down…

“Stop,” he groaned, his hands contradicting the command by sliding down the back of her shorts to encounter the bare flesh of her ass, punishing it with a kneading massage. “You can’t do this to me again.”