Protesting wasn't an option this time. What man with a hard dick revealed and yeah, more than primed and ready, even considers putting on the brakes? Not the one in front of me. As hard as he looked, a distress signal would be needed, and even then, a mayday wouldn't stop a man with an agenda for spicy satisfaction.
He took my hand in his, and in the most erotic dance of an uninhibited beginning, his lips trailed from my wrists to my elbow in slow motion. I was most definitely caught up in the moment. I really didn't realize he had unzipped my pants or his hand had slowly maneuvered my pants over hips and thighs. I didn't pay much attention until his palm cupped right underneath my intimate space. He pulled away long enough to stare into my soul. Forget my eyes, he bypassed them and went on a search for something more.
I swallowed hard. I wanted him to stop long enough to tell me more about him. How he'd spent the last few years of his life. I wanted to know why he'd taken so long to come home. I needed to understand if he knew all there was to know about the agreement between his father and mine. I wanted to find out, but with the look plastered across his face, there wasn't time now. No, not right then. There would be plenty of time for all of it later. Right now, his interests were somewhere far out of reach from the pillow talk later.
His free hand worked my shirt over shoulders and head. By the time he unhooked my bra, his palm shifted, the one he'd never bothered to move, and his fingers locked into place with a somewhat intimate dance he seemed perfectly capable of controlling.
Holding my lower back, he pressed his lips to mine before his foot kicked my stance apart. His knee firmly kept me parted for his pleasure. No, on second thought, the pending gratification seemed mine to own.
Fingers plunged into my pussy with full contemplation. "Damn, baby, you're so wet--incredibly wet and soaking ready, aren't ya?" His words were smiled into my mouth. It was wicked, deplorable. I wanted more.
I reached for him. Down his belly, my fingers moved fast until I had his cock fisted, drawing him into a slow hand-job I wanted him to ride.
His hips moved a little, giving a push and thrust of himself into the palm I closed only tighter.
"Ah, baby. I've waited so long to hold you." His words of truth were either going to be the death of me--or the life. At the moment, I wasn't sure which and if I'd thought much about it, how willing I was to be completely his, it would've stopped the hand motions.
He parted my lips again by thrusting his tongue into my mouth with a sweep of ecstasy. He tasted like peppermint and scotch. Divine, manly, and yep, completely mine. I imagined he'd never kissed anyone with so much passion. The kiss was something he mastered, and in my mind, I knew there was a lot that went with a kiss like his. I couldn't wait to find out just how well he could do the rest of it. Those thoughts scared the hell out of me. A man who could kiss and fuck with restraint should be feared. A man like Jack Dawson possessed the ability to strip a woman of her senses and control her by seduction. I didn't want to be one of those women.
I spread out before him like I was begging for it. Maybe I was. He stood over me, hovering for a minute. I fully expected him to lie on the bed next to me, but a woman who presumes too much often gets what she deserves.
I did--in a way.
He moved his hands over my thighs and hips before dragging my legs over his shoulders. He slumped down beside the bed while his hands moved under my ass, quickly raising me up to meet his lips.
"Sweet mercy hell." I looked down between my legs and liked what I found there.
"Yes, I'll take you there and back cause I promised you already." He made a few carnal sounds and dipped lower. "Baby, you're dripping ... just waiting for me, aren't you?" He taunted more with kisses and those led him straight to the place I wanted him to go.
A truly skilled mouth covered me and he had a true desire. He wanted to rid me of need but the lust fueled strong and once his tongue reached inside, I never doubted his abilities. He could drive a woman quickly to the other side, or at least, out of her ordinary mind. I was that woman--his woman--at least for a little while.
He bit down on my clitoris and sucked gently before lapping at me like I was the only seductress in the world with needs so close to his own. He was talented in every way and hungry. Damn, if he wasn't begging to be fed. If he was thirsty, then he could drink from me any day of the week.
The lapping and licking of sexual stimulation wasn't enough. He had to take. He wanted to satisfy, and he did. Man, did he ever.
"I can't hold back," I warned him before I lost it but I didn't want him to move. My hand went to his head and pulled through his waves, bringing him closer, only pulling him tighter.
"Don't you dare stop!" I yelled. I screamed and hell's fury, I meant it.
He worked slower, completely circling me with a tongue driven to punish. My hips rose higher and higher, yet he slowed the fuck down. His tongue gave way with the flood of desire wracking my body. One hand stayed in his hair and the other gripped, clawed even, the sheets beneath us.
"Don't, Dawson. Please don't stop. More. Please. Oh hell, please give me more." I felt the surge of power go through my body, torturing me with selective gratification at the same time he began again with venomous licks. He understood what it took to make a woman scream.
"Jack ... Dawson!" I cried, wept even. I rode the tongue driving me to the place I never wanted to stop finding. "Sweet mercy, baby. Sweet mercy."
"I'll show you sweet mercy until you can't find it anymore." He rose over me just when the last quiver subsided. His look of undeniable lust was more powerful than I'd ever witnessed in a man.
I pressed my lips to his before he mounted me, falling right into an age-old tempo every woman and man can seemingly find. Only, Jack knew how to work it for greater appreciation.
He was demanding. "Move up." My hips drove forward and then instinctively, I scooted up closer to the headboard.
He was divine. "You're beautiful, Darlene. Just tell me everything you want in a man. What turns you on?" He really wanted to know.
He was able. "Feels so good, doesn't it, baby. Doesn't it?" His cock found and stroked places I never knew a man could reach.
Damn if I could answer. Damn if he needed anything else to weigh in with his ego--or his cock.
Rhythmic sliding and gliding drove me to the point of no return. Looking into his eyes, I was lost to him, forever. He always had those fiery but sensual looks about him. I could not tear myself away from him, and in the moment, it seemed heavenly, almost like I'd waited my entire life to be in his arms again. Maybe it was possible. Maybe I'd saved a part of myself with the hope he would one day return.
I nearly ran out of air with each caress. Each heavy beat of his dick moving into me only made me wish, no pray, for more. "You're so damn big. Holy hell. You're killing me here."
"It's okay, baby." He pushed harder. "I'm there, baby. I'm already buried deep inside. Feel me." He grabbed a fistful of my hair and wrapped it around his hand. His hips gave way, and he drove into me in a frantic fury of need. The in-and-out moves seemed to find a tempo and the beat sounded out on the mattress under us and the headboard behind us.
His head bent down, and he bit at my nipple before going for a long, succulent exploration, massaging me under a competent tongue. Even with the pleasure, the pain existed. His cock retaliated against me for some reason. Perhaps it penalized me for ever being with anyone other than him.
I love you. I've always loved you. I wanted to tell him but didn't. It wasn't possible to love someone presumed dead for so many years.
A few more strokes and he pulled me up, yanked me, really, by the hair and gawd how he held tightly. His cock had a motive, and he explored it without apologies. Why bother. He was getting what he wanted, and I planned to help him take it all.
My legs wrapped tighter around his waist. He continued to pound hard and fast while looking into my eyes with true wanton satisfaction. Finally, it was more than I could take. I closed my eyes, ready to enjoy the place I'd almost reached again, with the pleasure winning out over the pain his cock deliberately delivered.
"You look at me now." He held me closer, tighter, and hell yeah, he fucked harder. Desperation lingered there. He apparently wanted no distance between us.
I couldn't open my eyes. Not yet. I was there--damnation, ready or not, it was time. The ripples came on slowly, but the waves. Damn if those waves weren't ready for us to take a willing ride.
His strokes came faster, pleading for more. His hips continued to rise and fall over me. His grip on my hair and head moved to my neck. "I said open your eyes, Darlene. Damn it. Now!" His demanding voice gained him the respect he wanted.
I looked at him just in time to see the sweat bead over his brow and his mouth twist in an expression of pure satisfaction.
"Say my name."
"No, damn you! Say my name. Say it like you want more of me."
In that moment I did. I truly wanted more than he would ever be able to give, because I wanted to feel him in my soul--in the pit of my gut, at the center of my universe. I wanted it like there wasn't another man who could deliver it.
"Jack! Please!" I would've been sarcastic as hell if only my orgasm didn't take me to a place like no other, but in the small window of opportunity, I was all over him for another reason. Tugging him closer, clawing at his back and ass. I wanted it more than any woman should ever desire a man--or what a man can offer. I truly desired the cock I couldn't seem to handle but couldn't quite escape. "Jack, please! Faster! Damn you!"