“Funny thing about first dates that always end early,” I say against the side of her neck as I scrape my teeth against that hollow spot I remember so well. “There’s never any sex.”
“You haven’t gonefouryears?—”
I look her dead in the eye, delighting in the way her blue orbs turn to liquid heat. “So what if I have, sweetheart? Your pussy is theonlypussy I want to call home.”
I position my swollen head at her entrance and thrust inside, gripping her hips to pull her close as I sink in deep.
Her nails dig into my shoulders as she cries out.
I pull out slowly and pummel back into her sopping wet channel.
“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” I demand.
Her lips crush to mine as she reaches between us, fingering her clit. I grip her ass and set the rhythm. Slow to pull out. Desperate to be back home. Slow, then savage. She rolls her hips, meeting me greedy thrust for greedy thrust.
During that weekend in Cape Cod, we made love slowly and sensually, we fucked hard, and everything in between. With Vanessa, it’s always been moment by moment, and I fucking love it.
I loveher.
“Jasper!” she cries out, rubbing her finger against her swollen button like her life depends on it. I drive my cock into her harder, faster. I’m desperate to release myself inside her depths, but I won’t dare come until she does. She’ll always come first.
“Come for me,” I growl. “Come on my bare cock, Vanessa.”
She explodes.
Her cry of ecstasy will probably raise some concern with the neighbors, but their nosiness is a price I’m willing to pay. Her teeth dig into my shoulder as she rocks violently through her powerful orgasm.
I stop fighting my restraint.
I pummel into her over and over. Until finally, I still inside her. My release is so intense my legs shake and force me to fight for balance. Vanessa clings to me as hot ropes of cum fill her. Staking my claim—for good this time.
“I love you,” I say against her ear, no longer giving a fuck if my confession scares her. “I’ve loved you since that day I met you in Cape Cod.”
“Jasper, I?—”
Her body stiffens in my hold, and I sense the alarm.
“What’s wrong?”
“My necklace.”
I reluctantly pull back, freeing my cock from her slick heat, and stare down at her chest. The necklace her mother gave her is missing.
“It’s here somewhere,” I reassure her.
“Maybe I left it at the hotel,” she says, panic taking over.
I cup her cheek and turn her face until she looks at me. “You were wearing it a few minutes ago. I remember it dangling between your tits, sweetheart. We’ll find it.”
She nods, quickly at first, then slowly as the panic dissipates.
I lift her off the counter, and we find the necklace within minutes. It landed in a bowl of apples and oranges.
“The clasp broke,” she says, looking defeated.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll get it fixed?—”
“I need to go,” she says, suddenly scrambling to collect her clothes.
