I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)(44)

The want on her face nearly undid him.

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this woman’s desire, but no way would he turn it down. Not when his cock felt like it’d tear right through his f*cking pants if he didn’t get some relief. Not when he wanted to bend her over the bed, grab that perfect, tight ass in his hands, and—

She dipped her head slightly, pressing her lips against the center of his chest before moving her face to the side. Her mouth grazed his nipple—just slightly, a brief flick of her tongue, but it was enough.

He lifted her up and all but threw her on the bed before launching himself on top of her. His mouth came down on hers hard as she spread her thighs wide, making room for him.

As their tongues tangled, Jackson’s hands moved around to her back, and she arched for him, giving his fingers easy access to the clasp of her strapless bra.

He roughly shoved the bra aside, then forced himself to go slow. To tease them both as he dragged his fingers all over her torso, skating along her ribs, over the slight curve of her waist, up toward her shoulders, and back down again, his fingers flirting with the line of her panties without sliding under.

She pulled her mouth away from his, her breath hot on his cheek. “Damn it, Jackson. You’re killing me.”

“Good.” His lips found hers again, nudging them open so his tongue slid along them at the exact moment he brushed a knuckle over the tip of her breast.

Mollie gasped.

He repeated the motion more slowly, just the slightest touch. Her hips pressed up against his, her long legs coming up to lock around his waist, rubbing the tiny triangle of her thong against the bulge in his pants.

He hissed, then punished her by slowing down his touch even further, pulling back to watch as his knuckle brushed her nipple again and again. Her breasts were small and perfect, her nipples pebbled and hard and begging for his mouth.

He couldn’t deny her. Or himself.

Jackson dipped his head to her, pausing for a long moment, torturing them both before flicking his tongue over the tip of her breast.

She cried out, her hands going to his head. Jackson’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, pinning them on either side of her as his mouth explored her breasts, moving from one to the other with teasing nips before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue as she bucked beneath him.

He shifted his weight slightly, his eyes looking up to her face, loving the way her breath came in hot, desperate pants as he played with her.

Her wrists twisted beneath his grip, and he released her.

Mollie’s hands immediately went for his head, but he dodged her, his head sliding downward before she could tangle her fingers in his hair, until his lips reached the edge of the tiny black thong.

She glanced down at him, her blue eyes dark and wanting. Jackson kept his gaze on hers, giving her a chance to change her mind as he hooked his fingers into the tiny strings at the sides of her hips. He dragged the underwear down, eyes holding hers until the very last minute when he pulled the panties over her feet, pausing only when the thin fabric caught on the high heels of her shoes.

Mollie started to sit up as though to remove the sandals, but he placed a hand on her stomach, pressing her back to the mattress.

“Leave them on,” he said. “I want to picture what you look like naked except for these hot-as-f*ck shoes when I do this to you.”

“Do what?” she asked, her voice low and breathy.

In response, he slid his hands up over her calves, hooking his fingers behind her knees and spreading her wide for him.

Jackson trailed his lips up the silky skin of her inner thigh, earning a breathy moan.

He stopped just short of where she needed him, waiting until she opened her eyes and looked down at him. Waited until she met his eyes, wanting her to know exactly who was doing this to her.

Only when her eyes locked on his did he reward her, his tongue extending to taste her with one slow lick.

Her low moan urged him forward, and he licked her again, harder. She was already wet for him, her sweetness rushing over his tongue.

Mollie propped herself up on her elbows unabashedly as she watched him lick her, her flat stomach rising and falling as her breath came in short pants.

Jackson pressed closer, using the widest part of his tongue to circle her.

She cried out, one hand coming down to rest on the top of his head, holding him there as his tongue moved faster, urged on by the nails digging lightly into his scalp.

Her hips pushed against his mouth, and he realized in surprise that she was close, already on the verge of coming apart for him. He brought a hand up to join his mouth, easing a finger inside her tight, wet channel.

It was all she needed to explode, collapsing on the bed, gripping his head now, holding him to her with both hands as the orgasm ripped through her.

Jackson gently eased away from her, pressing soft kisses to the front of her thighs and her stomach as he waited for her to come back to him. Then he moved up higher, propping his elbows on either side of her head as she opened her eyes, which were still half dazed with passion. He smiled slightly and brushed his mouth against hers. “I’ll have you know I was just getting started,” he murmured. “You rushed me.”

She gave a throaty laugh and ran her fingernails along his back. “I think I’ve been waiting a long time for that.”

He narrowed his eyes, wondering exactly what she meant by that, but Mollie refused to let him overthink it, her exploring fingers sliding around to his front and undoing his belt buckle and the button and zipper of his pants with an ease that had him lifting a brow.