I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)(57)

He complied, kicking his shoes off, and the second he did, Mollie hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down along with his pants.

She looked up once they hit the floor, and he watched her with an unreadable expression as he let her peel the pants off one leg, then the other, taking his socks off as well.

And then he was naked too.

Mollie smiled. It was the slow, victorious smile of a woman who knew what she wanted, and what she wanted was to make Jackson Burke beg—for her.

Down on her knees, Mollie sat up slightly, so that she was eye level with his cock. Looking up and holding his gaze, she tipped her head forward until her lips touched the tip. Briefly, as though it was an accident, except it wasn’t, and his throaty groan told her that he knew it.

“Mollie—”

She kissed him again, lingering this time, loving the way the smooth tip bobbed against her mouth.

His hands came up to her hair, tangled there.

This time when she kissed him it was slower. Wetter. Her tongue swiped across his tip and his nails dug into her scalp as he let out a low groan. She smiled, then repeated the motion before dragging her tongue all the way down to the base before trailing it back up.

Mollie glanced up, feeling a surge of victory at the panicked lust on Jackson’s face. Holding his gaze, she leaned forward again, opening her mouth as she slowly took him all the way inside. She moved slowly, letting him watch as his cock disappeared between her lips.

He was big, too big to take in all the way, so Mollie wrapped her hand around the rest of him, tightening her fingers as she began to move her mouth in wet, sucking strokes.

“Mollie,” he said, holding her head. “Yes, baby, yes. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

She didn’t stop. Didn’t want to. If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be on her knees on Jackson Burke’s kitchen floor giving him head, she’d have laughed. And probably blushed.

From the way his fingers pressed against her head and the quickening of his breath, she knew he was close. Jackson’s hands moved from her head down to her shoulders, and before she realized what was happening, he’d scooped her up to her feet, his eyes boring into hers before he crushed her against him in a searing kiss.

“Very naughty, Ms. Carrington,” he whispered as he pulled back.

“You didn’t let me finish,” she pouted.

“I have other plans for the QB,” he said.

She snorted. “QB? Tell me we aren’t talking about…” She glanced down.

“We are. We definitely are.”

Mollie let out a little laugh, oddly warmed by the fact that Jackson Burke, winner of multiple sexiest-man awards, had a sense of humor in bed. Or in the kitchen. Whatever.

He kissed her again, his hands sliding over her sides to her waist before moving idly back up again until his thumbs found the undersides of her breasts, teasing her with soft strokes before moving up and swiping over her nipples.

Mollie let out a little moan as his fingers toyed with her, twisting the sensitive peaks until she was wriggling against him, wanting to get closer. Wanting more.

Jackson bent slightly, his tongue gliding across the tip of her breast as his hand slid down over her belly until his fingers found the wetness between her legs.

Mollie’s head tipped back as his fingers played between her legs in soft teasing motions. His mouth moved to the other breast as he began to stroke her harder, his finger finding exactly the right rhythm and pressure.

“Yes.” She bit her lip as she braced for the building orgasm.

Jackson had other ideas. He gave her one last circling stroke, slowly, torturously, before he pulled away and straightened up.

She narrowed her eyes, and he winked before setting a hand to her waist and slowly spinning her around so she was facing the granite countertop. He pushed the cutting board out of the way as he moved behind her, pressing her to the counter.

Mollie rubbed against him, loving the contrast between his hardness and the slight scratch of his body hair against her smoothness.

He lifted a hand to push her blond waves to the side, his mouth finding the skin of her neck as he moved even closer, his erection pressing hot and hard behind her.

Jackson trailed kisses over her neck and down to her shoulder. He set a warm palm against her back, easing her forward until she was all the way bent over the counter, her breasts pressed to the cold stone.

“This okay?” he asked roughly, running his hands over her sides.

In response Mollie swiveled her hips back against him, and he sucked in a harsh breath. His hands slid down to cup her hips, angling her as he pressed forward.

Mollie was expecting hard and fast—was craving it. But Jackson surprised her by moving slowly, easing inside her inch by inch.

She arched back again, urging him on, and he groaned. “You are so hot like this.”

He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward all the way, and Mollie turned her head, resting her cheek against the cool counter as he began to move with a firm rhythm.

“I’m going to come, babe. Touch yourself, come with me.”

Mollie slipped a hand between her legs as he moved faster, each thrust causing her torso to rub against the counter, her nipples hard against the cold granite.

Mollie quickened the pace of her circling fingers, her body coming closer and closer until she couldn’t hold out any longer. She let out a loud cry, and the second she spasmed, Jackson joined her, his sharp curses mingling with her soft cries as he emptied himself inside her.