Page 66 of The Marriage Mistake

I was suddenly certain of one thing, though: It wasn’t fake.

My fingers curled over his shoulders, and I stopped his retreat. “Wait,” I whispered. I opened my mouth, but nothing else came out. My chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. My pulse pounded.

“Ember.” He stood utterly still.

There was nothing to do but jump into the frothing surf at the base of the cliff and see if I survived. “I think we should kiss,” I said, my voice barely audible. Then I chickened out and added, “You know. For practice.”

His chuckle was little more than a puff of breath. “Ember,” he repeated, this time full of warmth and humor. “You fucking kill me.”

“Is that…” I arched my brows. “Is that good?”

This time his smile was wide, and his hands slid back onto my hips. They dipped under the sweater and tank top I wore to rest on my bare waist. “Yes,” he replied, closing the distance between us. “Yes, it’s good.”

And then he kissed me.

I was almost used to it now, but the kiss still knocked me sideways. All I could do was cling to Jack’s shoulders and moan against his mouth. I drank in the taste of him, pressing my body against his, loving the thrill that went through me when I felt the hardness of his erection against my stomach again. He groaned as I writhed against him, shifting to kiss my jaw, my neck. His hand slid up from my waist and cupped my breast.

I wasn’t wearing a bra.

Jack’s reaction was immediate. His hand squeezed, his hips surging. I felt the scrape of his teeth against my neck, and I lost myself to the sensations.

“Take this off,” he commanded, grabbing the fabric of my sweater and tank in a rough grip. “Want to see those pretty tits again.”

I took off the clothes and gasped when his hands gripped my breasts and his mouth dipped down to take my nipple. My fingertips dug into his shoulders and slid into his hair. Silky strands slipped through my fingers, and I panted as he moved to the other breast. This was a lot. And I liked it—a lot.

“Best tits I’ve ever seen,” he said, pinning me to the counter with his hips as he pulled back to look at me. He framed my breasts with his hands, plumping them up, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. I’d never had a man look at me like this. Never been so utterly on display. Never thought I’d enjoy it quite so much.

Then his words sank in. I let out a tremulous laugh. “I find that hard to believe,” I said.

He squeezed my breasts in response. Ran his thumb over my nipples. Pinched one. Noted my whimper with a dark glance and did it again. “Which part is hard to believe?”

“That my breasts would be anything special.”

“Everything about you is special,” he said, and I was way too far gone to let myself deny that statement. He plucked my nipple again, a little harder, and an arrow of pure fire went straight to my cunt. I gasped, and Jack grunted. “I think you might be the perfect woman, Ember. Perfect in every fucking way.” He pinched me again. Again. Again.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Oh,” I said, but was unable to formulate anything more complex, because one of Jack’s hands slipped under the waistband of my leggings, burrowed beneath my underwear, and cupped me between the legs. I stared at him with wide eyes as he swore, his eyes sliding down to where his hand disappeared into my pants.

“You’re wet,” he marveled, fingers sliding through my slick.

“You”—I inhaled sharply as he found my bud—“you like that,” I noted.

“I fucking love it,” he said, his fingers teasing and stroking and torturing. My legs trembled, and I was forced to let go of him so I could grip the countertop for support. Jack crowded me, one hand down my pants, the other on my breast. He kissed me again, biting and bruising and consuming.

Sensations drowned me. I’d never been touched like this, had never felt a man be so close to the brink, had never imagined that he could feel this way because of me. It was a moment that fundamentally changed me; I’d thought sex was one thing, and Jack was showing me that it was something else entirely. Something hot and messy and overwhelming and incredible. For both of us.

“Let me see it,” Jack said, his lips moving over mine. He shoved a finger inside me. “Let me see this tight little pussy so I know it’s as perfect as the rest of you.”

I gasped as he pumped his finger in and out of me. “Jack.”

“That’s it. That’s the only name you need to know from now on.”

I was falling for him. I could feel my heart cracking wide open for him, the shell around it forced apart by the intensity of this moment. Desperate to protect myself, I said, “Is that what you tell all the other women you sleep with? Arrogant, much?”

His movements stilled as his brows slammed down. “You didn’t hear me the first time, did you?”

I was breathing hard, unable to speak. Unable to think of anything to protect my vulnerable heart from this man who would crush it in his fist.