“When you move in here, panties are optional.”
“Who said I was going to move in here?”
“Me.” I grabbed her ankle and tossed a leg over the back of the couch. Then I dove for her, dragging my tongue through her wet slit.
“Oh my God.” Her hands threaded into my hair. She hummed, relaxing and letting her other leg fall toward the floor. Opening herself up for me entirely, her body so fucking responsive it made my cock weep.
“You taste so good, El.” I lapped at her, flattening my tongue against her center before dropping to my knees to lick and kiss the inside of her thighs.
Eloise trembled, her hips lifting to meet my mouth.
“You like my tongue, angel?”
“Yes.” Her hands wandered over my shoulders, then up my nape. Like she’d done with the couch, for every lick, for every suck, she drew a circle in the back of my hair.
I feasted on her, lost in her sweetness and the sexy moans escaping her throat. When I latched on to her clit, she gasped, her back arching off the couch as her legs began to tremble.
But before she could come, I eased away.
“Make me come.” She lifted, seeking more. “Please. Don’t stop.”
I slid a finger through her tight heat.
Her whimper filled the room. “More. Babe, I need more.”
Babe. I’d do this every fucking day to have her call me babe. Eloise wasn’t the first woman to use that endearment. But I liked it in her voice the best.
It was just more paint. More color, more beauty, covering up my ugly past.
My arousal was painful, straining against my jeans, but I kept my pants on. “Come on my tongue. Then you’ll get my cock.”
Eloise moaned, writhing against my mouth as I devoured her, fluttering my tongue while I plunged two fingers inside, curling them to the spot that made her limbs shake. Her fists gripped my hair, holding me in place as her inner walls began to pulse. “Jasper, I’m—”
Her warning was cut off by a scream, her body nearly rocketing off the couch as she exploded. Every muscle in her body quaked. Her grip on my hair was unforgiving. But no matter how hard she pulled or pulsed, I kept at her, drawing out her orgasm until every last tendril of her pleasure was mine.
She collapsed, boneless and panting, her legs spread wide and her drenched center glistening.
I’d have her in bed next. I’d have that lithe body spread across my sheets, that hair undone and tangled with my pillows.
“Okay.” She let out a dreamy sigh, her mouth turning up at the corners. Her cheeks had a beautiful flush.
“Okay, what?”
“I’ll move in with you. But only because you asked me so nicely.”
CHAPTER NINE
ELOISE
“Do you think it’s a bad idea for us to keep having sex?”
“Now?” Jasper’s cock, still buried inside me, twitched. “You want to talk about this now? When my come is leaking down your legs?”
I giggled. “Okay, let’s talk about it later.”
“Yeah.” He held me tight for a moment. His arms were wrapped around my shoulders, his chest pressed to my back.
But like always, he let me go too soon and slid out. Then he tucked himself into his jeans before bending to pull up my panties and joggers.
“Back to work.” He swatted my ass. “What room do you want to pack next?”
“Bedroom?” We’d been in the middle of sorting through the kitchen when Jasper and I had brushed against each other.
He’d been closing a box. I’d been filling another. Our elbows had touched. That was all it had taken for the spark to ignite.
We’d flown at each other, kissing wildly. Then he’d ripped down my pants, freed himself and fucked me against the counter.
Since last night at the A-frame, we’d had sex three times. Once last night in his bed. Once this morning in the shower. And now in my kitchen—former kitchen. This desire for him was overwhelming. Startling. Every time we were together, I wanted more and more.
That was normal, right? This was just chemistry. It would fade eventually. Most newlyweds probably couldn’t keep their hands off each other too.
Granted, most newlyweds had probably intended to get married. And to stay married.
While I was lost in this sexual haze with Jasper, I’d asked my attorney to get a jumpstart on preparing our divorce papers. That way they’d be ready once we returned from this wedding at the end of June.
“So.” I put a set of measuring cups in the open box. “Do you think it’s a bad idea for us to keep having sex?”
“No.” Jasper hefted a box in his arms, the muscles of his biceps flexing as he strode from the room.
I waited, thinking he’d just set it with the other boxes in the living room and come back to expand on that answer. But then the front door opened and closed.
“Good talk.” With an eye roll, I went back to packing.
My husband, I was learning, had a proclivity for tiny sentences. The shorter the better.
I’d just finished packing the last of the kitchen boxes when he strode into the room.
“Do you want to stop having sex?” he asked.
“No.” Before Jasper, I’d had no idea sex could be like this. Addictive. Freeing. Thrilling. There were no inhibitions. We came together with fireworks. The moment he touched me, the world beyond us disappeared.
He snared my focus with that gorgeous face. With the way every muscle in his body flexed and bunched with raw, primal power as he drove inside me. Jasper delivered twice as much pleasure as he took.
Sure, maybe sex would muddle feelings. Maybe it would make it harder in the end when we parted ways. Or maybe we could just take it for what it was.
Sex. Crazy, phenomenal sex.
“I like fucking you, Eloise.”
A flush crept into my cheeks. That rugged voice, his rasp, always made my breath catch. He might not be a man of many words, but when he used them, I listened.
Jasper crossed the kitchen with that slow swagger, like a man on the prowl. Even his walk was hot. As intoxicating as his voice. He stopped, towering in front of me. It forced me to tilt my chin to keep his gaze. “I’m going to keep fucking you.”
“Right now?” I was okay with right now.
The crinkles at the sides of his eyes were the only sign of his amusement. It was like Jasper’s secret smile.
And it was all mine. For now.
“Let’s wrap up here.” He lifted his hand to my face, his fingertips skimming my cheekbone. “Head back to the cabin. Spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“Yes, please,” I breathed.
“You like that, don’t you? I talk about fucking you, and your face turns this pretty pink. Almost as pretty of a pink as your pussy.”
“Jas,” I whimpered. If my face had been pink before, now it was a flaming red.
He bent, his mouth a whisper against the shell of my ear. “You call me Jas later, okay? When I’m so deep inside you that you’ll feel me in your throat. You call me Jas. And I’ll make you come so hard you’ll scream.”
God, I loved his dirty mouth.
His fingers came to my throat. His hand was so large that he could wrap his palm all the way around my nape and his thumb could still trace the line of my windpipe. His teeth nipped at my earlobe before his lips skimmed my cheek.