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Someone made our bed and neatly draped my green jacket across the edge of it—the one I left at the brunch. But it falls away as I push Jake down onto the corner and kneel to undo his belt and jeans. I barely even give him enough time to pull out another condom and kick off his boots.
I want him inside my mouth.
He doesn’t argue.
As soon as the full length of him springs free from beneath his boxer briefs, I take it into my mouth, the taste of my wetness still present, and I concentrate on the head.
His hands thread through my hair and gently grip at the roots. Air rushes from his nose at the sensation of my tongue flicking against the sensitive spot where the hood meets the shaft.
“I’ve missed that too,” he halfway teases, but his voice is husky and dark.
I make a sound of agreement, and it vibrates against his shaft as I continue down until he hits the back of my throat.
His abs tighten.
I hold him there until I almost gag, then pull back.
Go back down.
Up and down.
When my hand finds its way to his balls and hold them, I give them the slightest squeeze. He nearly gasps.
“Scarlett,” is all he can say, his fingers curling against my scalp.
And then he grabs me beneath my arms and yanks me to my feet. Starts undoing my pants.
Apparently, I’m not the only impatient one.
I don’t argue either.
While he works on my bottom half, I peel off my tank and bra, and then climb on top, straddling him but still allowing him enough room to slip on the condom.
Once it’s in place, one of his arms snakes around my lower back and pulls me against him. The other one slides between my shoulder blades, his hand gripping my nape.
My sex is already open and wet for him. No foreplay needed. So I rock myself onto his shaft and moan as he pushes the rest of the way in.
My head involuntarily falls back at the sensation, and his hand at my nape grips tighter, then tugs my head back further to expose more of my neck.
His lips connect there, at the soft spot beneath my jawline, and as he kisses down my neck, across my clavicle, my nipples harden in anticipation.
I’m bowed back, completely naked and exposed, and he’s buried inside me.
I’m his to do with what he will.
“I’ve missed these too,” he says, his kisses making their way to my left nipple. He takes it into his mouth and sucks.
I moan and rock against him.
It makes him suck harder.
“Jake,” I rasp.
He breaks suction, licks around it, and then goes for the other.
I rock against him again. Pull back, his cock almost sliding out. Then slam forward, his dick hitting the end with a delicious ache.
This time, he moans, and it coaxes me into a rhythm. And just as my sex clenches around him, the beginnings of orgasm number four threatening to swallow me whole, he stands, arms still wrapped around me and carries me until my back pins to the wall.
The window shakes beside us. A picture flaps against drywall. I think something falls off one of the bedside tables.
But in this moment, neither of us care.
The only thing we’re focused on is each other. Squeezing every last drop out of our time together.
Who knows when we’ll have another chance like this again?
