Watch Me Fall (Ross Siblings, #5)(68)
“Ride it, baby. Don’t you dare f*cking stop until you take everything you want.”
Planting her hands on his chest, she did it. Oh f*ck, she wrung every bit of promise from those hot words—they’d been everything she’d ever wanted to hear. She might not have much control over her crazy life most of the time, but right now, he’d given her control over him, over her own pleasure. He encouraged her, gritted his teeth, held back his own release as she let the sweet ache grow into an all-consuming firestorm and came with deep, gasping sobs. He caught her when she fell over him, but given his hardness still riding high inside her, she knew he hadn’t come himself. Their bodies were slick against each other, sweat intermingling. As she lifted her head to look at him, single strands of her hair caught in his beard. He swept them back, chuckling.
“I can’t believe how good you feel,” she said weakly, still panting. “I thought you said you wouldn’t last long.”
One corner of his mouth turned up in a wicked smirk. “I guess you give me renewed vigor.”
“You said anything I want, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Right now I want more than anything to watch you come. I want to see it all.” She stroked his cheek. “I want to see your face.” She kissed his ear, tugging his earlobe with her teeth. “And I want to hear you.” Then she lifted her hips, letting her * give his cock one long stroke from base to tip as his entire body jerked underneath her. “And I want to watch your come shoot all over me.”
He swallowed thickly. “Damn, woman.”
“I don’t care how you do it, or how you want me to do it for you. But do it. Where I can see.”
He grabbed both cheeks of her ass, giving her back the entire length of him as her head rolled back on her shoulders and her eyes rolled back in their sockets in pure bliss. “Here,” he growled. With one seemingly effortless twitch of his body, she was under him again, legs splayed over his shoulders. Like this, he plucked a chord of something almost like pain deep inside, and she cried out. But she loved it. Men in the past had needed adornments to reach every part of her…piercings, toys, etcetera…and oh yes, there was something to be said for all of it. He sought out her pleasure spots and devastated them with nothing but his natural talents.
“Let me see,” she said desperately, clawing her way to a semi-sitting position and interlocking her fingers behind his neck so she could watch him disappear into her over and over. It was better than any f*cking porno. He was still except for his hips, pistoning his cock into her on their power alone until she began to think she might climax again before he did. Oh God, she was. That spot, that spot, he kept hitting it and every time was like a shock to her system. “I’m gonna come,” she told him helplessly, half in wonder. But it wasn’t so much a peak as a plateau, a long, slow, rolling tidal wave of pleasure washing her under and keeping her there, tumbling her deeper and deeper until she finally emerged wet and exhausted just in time to see him jerk out of her and strip the condom off with one hurried upward sweep of his fist.
And it was as beautiful as she’d hoped. His fingers bit into her thigh, his head arched back, and muscles corded in his neck. Drops of him scattered across her chest and belly, and his groans were rough and guttural and so f*cking sexy, she had to pull him down to kiss him, to taste those sounds.
At last, he exhaled, lowering his forehead to hers, and she chuckled. “Mmm. Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty
They talked and dozed and laughed and caressed and talked more until the sun came up. Jared must have explored every inch of her by then, every tattoo, every color. He must have tasted every inch of her too, and he couldn’t get enough. But if he didn’t get his ass to work today, his own dad was going to fire him. So, reluctantly, he dragged his aching, pleasantly exhausted body from the bed to shower and feed his animals while Starla made breakfast. The sight of her when he joined her in the kitchen—her rumpled platinum, pink, and turquoise hair with her three-sizes-too-big Misfits shirt, long inked legs, and the knowledge she wasn’t wearing panties—was something he could get used to. Her skin still wore the sultry musk of their lovemaking, and he breathed it deep when she gave him a coffee-flavored kiss, hoping he would carry it with him all day.
Naturally, the kiss turned into a groping session, and he damn near bent her over the island right there, but he didn’t have a condom, and he was already so damn late. The little mew of disappointment she gave when he told her broke his heart and warmed it at the same time. “See,” she said. “Hardest man to f*ck I’ve ever met.”
“Hey.” Gently grasping her chin, he made her look him directly in the eye. “I’ll show you hard when I get home tonight.” Then he released her to wrench up the back of her shirt and smack her bare ass, and she squealed happily. Once he’d shoveled down her spectacular food and headed for the door with his truck keys, she trailed after him uncertainly.
“Is there anything you need me to do while you’re gone?”
It was the first day he’d gone to work since she’d been here. He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “No, not that I can think of. I don’t want you to sit around bored all day, though.”
“What about dinner?”