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I feel fucked. Utterly fucked, lying in a ragged heap beneath a hulk of a man whose body is burning like an inferno above me.
“Jet,” I breathe, blissed out.
He breaks eye contact for the first time since he pushed inside me. A deep breath expands his chest, then he blows it out, his taut shoulders relaxing.
“Jesus, you feel so fucking good.” He flexes inside me, and I whimper.
“I’ve never come so hard,” I admit, not caring what he thinks. I’m in a beautiful post-orgasmic haze. He shifts inside me, then pulls out. The alien feeling of being filled with hot cum makes me bite my lip. Some of it trails toward my ass.
I like it.
“I’ll even use a glass for you one time after an orgasm like that,” I tease, closing my eyes and tilting my head back as I blow out a relaxed breath.
“Really?” Jet’s gravelly voice sounds faraway. I don’t care if he fucks off to bed and leaves me here. I’m sated and blissfully boneless.
“Mmm…”
“In that case, you can do it now.”
Something cold touches my inner thighs and his large palm slides over my lower stomach, pushing down gently.
“Good girl. Squeeze it out.”
“What are you doing?” I open my eyes and push up onto my elbows.
“You’re full of my cum.” His gaze is fixed between my legs. “Squeeze for me.” He presses his palm into my stomach, making my pussy clench. “Good girl.” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking beautiful.”
He lifts his hand, assessing the glass between his fingers. There’s at least an inch of white liquid in the bottom of it. I stare at it as he moves closer, his hand sliding around the back of my neck and easing me up into a sitting position.
“You know what to do.”
He arches a dark brow.
My core tightens. He’s challenging me, I know he is. It’s another game to him, a demonstration that he’s the one in control.
He doesn’t think I’ll do it.
I part my lips in invitation, keeping my eyes fixed on his. He brings the glass to my lips, his breath stalling before breaking into a sharp hiss.
He tips the glass, and I drink.
His pupils blow wide as my throat contracts with each gulp. The mix of us tastes like sin. I smile as I drain the last remnants from the glass.
“Good girl.” He places the glass down on the table and lowers his mouth to kiss me. It’s slow and lingering. I trace a finger along his jaw.
“Ava,” he groans, “you taste like—”
“You?” I murmur.
“Us,” he rasps, sliding his tongue over mine.
I sigh into his kiss. “I like it.”
He kisses me slowly, savoring it, before finally easing back. His thumb traces my cheek as his eyes roam my face. His lips curl a fraction in one corner.
“It’s time you went to bed.”
Chapter 16
