“Oh, God, Jake.” She trembles on my tongue as I eat her out, giving herself to me with lusty abandon. I relish every new sound that comes from her luscious mouth. My cock is impossibly hard as I focus on her pleasure, and I ache to bury myself in her and show her how deeply I want her.
When I suck gently on her clit, she raises her ass off the bed and clenches her thighs over my ears.
“Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breaking. “Please don’t stop. Right there!”
Her breathing becomes ragged, desperate, her body tensing as she approaches the edge. I keep the pressure steady, relentless, until she’s bucking on my tongue, her body shaking.
When she finally breaks, crying out my name as her orgasm crashes through her, I feel it like a victory. The taste of her release on my tongue, the way her body shudders and clenches, her broken sobs of pleasure the best sound in the world.
“I need you inside me,” she gasps, her hands reaching for me. “Now. Please.”
When I settle between her thighs, she reaches up to cup my face, her thumbs brushing across my cheekbones.
“Are you ready?” I ask, even though stopping now might kill me.
“I might die if you stopped.” Izzy’s voice is breathless as she echoes my thoughts, her breathing rapid as she looks up at me. One look into her eyes and I can see her hunger matches mine.
She pulls me down and gives me a slow, deep kiss. I rub the head of my cock through her slick heat as we kiss, then push inside slowly. The sensation is overwhelming—heat and silk and perfect pressure that makes my vision blur.
“You feel amazing,” I tell her, fighting the urge to move rough and fast, to take what I need.
“So do you.” She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, making us both groan. “Now move. Hard.”
The careful control I’ve maintained my entire adult life crumbles under the weight of her demand. I rock my hips against hers, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. She meets me stroke for stroke, her hands holding my shoulders as she drives me toward madness.
“Yes,” she gasps, her body arching beneath mine. “Just like that. Don’t hold back.”
I don’t. I can’t. Every time she says my name, every soft cry that escapes her lips, drives me closer to the edge. I wasn’t going to fuck her like this, but by some miracle, she wants this the way I want to give it to her. Izzy is my fucking dream girl.
I growl against her throat, pinning her to the bed with my hips, my cock buried deep in her. How the hell does she make me feel so primal?
Her eyes flutter as her breath catches, and her pussy clenches my cock, and I know she’s close again. I change the angle slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out, and she explodes on my cock.
Her pussy clenches my cock as she moans my name, and it sends me over the edge. My orgasm tears through me, white-hot and shooting up my spine, until I’m weak and moaning her name.
She turns in my arms to look at me, and the smile that spreads across her face is like sunrise after the longest night of my life. Her hair is mussed, her lips swollen, and she’s easily the most beautiful woman in the world.
“I’m never letting you go,” I tell her, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
CHAPTER 6
IZZY
Iwake to the acrid smell of smoke and the piercing shriek of the smoke alarm. For a disorienting moment, I think I’m back in my LA apartment and my stalker is breaking in, but then I see the faded purple curtains and reality crashes back.
Jake. Last night. I’m in Jefferson, at my brother’s house.
Heat floods my cheeks as memories surface—his hands on my skin, the way he looked at me like I was everything he’d ever wanted, the sound of my name on his lips when we made love. My body still aches in the most delicious way, every movement a reminder of how thoroughly he claimed me. He made me come more powerfully than I ever have before. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted.
The smoke alarm continues its angry protest, followed by the sound of Jake cursing creatively in the kitchen. I grab my hoodie and zip it up, then pad barefoot down the hallway, wrinkling my nose as the smoke gets stronger by the kitchen.
Jake is standing in the middle of the kitchen, waving a dish towel at the smoke detector while what appears to be the charred remains of breakfast sit abandoned on the stove. His hair is mussed, he’s shirtless except for his jeans riding low on his hips, and he looks sheepish.
“Need help?” I lean against the doorway to the kitchen, unable to keep the smile out of my voice.
He turns at the sound of my voice, and the way his green eyes heat when they take in my appearance makes my knees weak. The hoodie barely covers my core, and I’m very aware that I’m not wearing anything underneath.
“So much for impressing you with my cooking skills,” he says, finally managing to silence the alarm.
