Page 74

He doesn’t wait for me to adjust to him, he’s already pumping in and out. Slow strokes that seem like they should soothe but all they do is make me wild.

Over my shoulder, Jameson’s watching, his gaze hungry and out of focus.

He withdraws completely, and I’m about to protest when he returns with two fingers.

My breathing is shallow as he fills me, my body stretching to take him.

“If you knew how many times I’ve pictured this.” His voice is a rasp. “How I’ll look over and fucking wish I was inside you.” Jameson’s mouth comes back to mine, swallowing my needy sounds.

Another firework explodes in the sky, raining shimmering pink sparks that burn the backs of my eyes.

His thumb joins in, rubbing my clit as he presses inside. His rough breath keeps the time, the slow drag of friction punctuating each breath.

I arch against him, trying to absorb the sensation. I’m lost in pleasure, in him.

There’s another crash. This time, I hear people crying out. Probably on a balcony off the ballroom, celebrating the fireworks. Celebrating him.

Out there, they’re cheering for one Jameson. The public one, the cool, restrained one.

In here, I’m learning about the real one.

“Fuck me back.” Jameson’s voice is a command.

My hips respond. I reach up, my fingers threading in his soft hair.

I can’t stop. I couldn’t if a hundred black-tie-clad guests barged through the door.

He groans and kisses me deeper, holding my concentration, his hand moving between my thighs.

Racing on track has nothing on this feeling. It’s wanting and needing and having and somehow knowing it will never be enough.

Every stroke of his fingers winds me tighter. He’s tuned into each moan and shiver.

I’m close.

I’ve never felt this powerful or powerless.

“More,” I whisper.

Instead of speeding up, Jameson goes deeper, slower, more determined.

No.

I want to protest but I can’t find the words.

From his rough breathing, I’m second-guessing the part where I thought he was in control.

Suddenly my body pulls tight, every part of me collapsing into a sparkling explosion of sensations.

My nails dig into his neck. I cry out, my sounds swallowed up by the oohs and aahs of the crowd nearby.

Jameson drags every ounce of sensation from me. I ride out the feeling, each ripple of pleasure somehow more consuming even as it fades in intensity.

I’m in trouble. My blissed-out body is a warning sign even before my head falls back against his chest, the muscles beneath still tense.

His lips press against my neck, and I feel the asshole smile.

“Told you I wouldn’t let you lose.”