Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(75)

He redoubled his efforts on her hypersensitive clit. “Look what you do to me, pet. I’m so f*cking hard I’m hurting. Leaking all over you. Dying to have you. And feel your sweet * wrapped around my cock.”

Her release totally blindsided her, hitting her like a freight train. Her ass clenched around the plug while her * spasmed around emptiness.

“So beautiful,” Jack grumbled, his erection jerking against her as she whimpered and shuddered, immersed in her orgasm.

“I’m aching so much,” she said when she could speak. “I need you in my *.”

He lay down, nudging the crown against her folds. “Take my cock.”

She sat on him slowly, relishing the feel of his shaft spreading her inner lips. But that was as far as it would go. He was big enough without that thing stretching her ass. She wanted him so much, she pushed aside the discomfort.

He grabbed her by her hips. “Slowly, pet.”

“I don’t want slowly,” she complained, frustrated when she couldn’t move down on him. “And I’m in charge.”

“Tough shit,” he grunted. “I’m not down with hurting you.”

“One would think you’re one of those kinky, lots of extreme hardware, chains kind of guy.”

“I don’t normally need those. Since I met you, I’ve begun to consider the virtues of roping. And caning.”

“You wouldn’t cane me,” she whispered frozen, shocked at his choice of words. Caning? Really? What was she, a horse that needed breaking?

His eyes softened. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d f*ck you until you can’t see straight. Give you that little bit of pain, the intensity you seem to like with your pleasure. Fuck your ass if you ever let me. Restrain you and make you come like crazy, but I would never hurt you.”

Good, they understood each other.

Relishing his groans and curses, she took him inside her, her body little by little accepting him until his pubic hair was deliciously pressing against her open, bare folds. She remained still, trembling. Fighting to accommodate him. Her ass stretched to the max, her * too.

“Now,” he said with a teasing smirk so uncharacteristic of him that jolted her, “what was that you were saying about the virtues of twerking? So far I don’t see anything unusual.”

Oh he hadn’t dared her, had he?

Elle took her time with him, riding him slowly and fast, mixing it up, her hips swirling around, something that seemed to work for Jack, whose body was gleaming with sweat.

“You are killing me,” he spat, tense as a bow. “So f*cking hot.”

“Don’t come yet,” she said against his lips, breathing through her own need.

“Stop f*cking me so good then,” he let out, repeating the words that she’d said to him once upon a time.

She clenched her inner muscles around him so hard that she almost sent herself over. “Huge payoff if you don’t come.”

He stilled her and she watched as he fought to control his body and managed to suppress his need to come.

“That’s my Borg,” she said.

“Smart-ass,” he grunted, surging in hard and fast, ripping a gasp out of her.

For a guy who was giving her the reins, he was mighty bossy. Then again, this was Jack. He was always bossy. That he hadn’t knocked her on her back by now and taken over was an accomplishment.

She wrested control back and got him and herself to the brink of release twice more; then she couldn’t tease him anymore because she was thrashing and quivering.

He grabbed her hips, trapping her arms at her sides, and decreed, “We’re both coming, now.”

It might have been the authoritative tone of his voice, or the huge cock pulsing against her womb, or the butt plug torturing her ass, or the way he was restraining her movements, but she melted right away. Staring into his eyes as he lost it too sent her even higher.

“I see the virtues of twerking,” she heard him mumble afterward.

She laughed softly. “Told you. Every evil has its flip side. Same goes for the ass thingy.”

“You liked it,” he said, slowly pulling the sex toy out of her, sending new ripples of pleasure all over her tingly body.

She shrugged, not ready to admit this had been one of the best lovemaking of her life. The guy was already too full of himself; he didn’t need any encouragement.

Elle stayed on top of him until their breathing was back to normal, and even after.

“Let me go clean myself. I know you get your Neanderthal kicks out of seeing all your cum dripping from the women you f*ck, but honest to God, falling asleep with that sticky goo on me is frigging uncomfortable.”

When she came back from the bathroom, Jack was still in bed, in the same position she’d left him. His eyes were trained on her, his pose cocky and arrogant, but she didn’t feel intimidated or unsure. She boldly lay on top of him and he engulfed her in his arms.

“For the record, I don’t get my Neanderthal kicks from seeing my cum dripping from any woman,” he said, that raspy voice of his abrading her senses. “I get them from seeing it on you. Just you.”

“Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

He snorted. Yeah, she reckoned in his world that was a high form of compliment. Nuts.

Jack’s cell beeped, and he reached for it.