Jennie gasps, hand pressed to her throat. I’m gonna squeeze that later.
“Keep your mouth open like that and I’ll shove my cock down your throat, sunshine.”
There’s that sparkle, right there in those electric violet-blue eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
I prowl toward her, excitement stirring as she backs herself into her apartment and right against the wall. “Oh, I would.”
She licks her lips, watching me pull my bloodstained hoodie over my head. “No,” she murmurs, slinging her arms around my neck, fingers creeping into my hair as she kisses my jaw. “You’re just my sweet, gentle giant. That’s why everyone calls you Gare-Bear.”
With a snarl, I sink my hand into the base of her braid, fisting it tightly. I press her chest to the wall and her ass juts, grinding against my cock. Dipping beneath her top, my fingertips dance over her stomach, feeling her muscles jump. I open my mouth on her neck, and her head drops over my shoulder with a moan.
I skim the waistband of her leggings. “You want me to touch you?” My lips glide over her skin. “Taste you?” I drag the tip of one finger up the seam of her legs. “Fuck you?”
“God, yes.”
“Beg for it.”
“Garrett,” she whimpers, trembling.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That’s a good fucking start.”
She whirls around, hands on my chest as she pushes me into the wall. She kicks off her shoes, rips her shirt over her head, and yanks her leggings down. I follow suit, until we’re left in nothing but our underwear.
Jennie holds me to the wall with her palm on my collarbone, free hand gliding down my torso. Sneaking below the band of my boxers, she wraps her fist around my cock. I hiss at the surge of pleasure, and a triumphant grin ignites across her face.
“I don’t beg,” Jennie whispers against my lips. “You do.” She releases my cock, pats my stomach, and…walks away.
I sure don’t mind the view, all black lace and long, golden limbs. I let her get halfway down the hall before I ditch my boxers, eat the distance between us, and cage her in against the wall, my chest against her back.
“Not today, sunshine. Today I want you on your knees.”
I dip my hand into her panties and bury my groan in her neck at what’s waiting for me.
“Jesus, Jennie. You’re fucking drenched.”
“Thinking about mounting Indiana Bones,” she chokes out, gasping as I sink one finger inside her. “He always fucks me so good.”
I pump my finger at a pace I know drives her wild, waiting until she’s arching into my palm, writhing below me. “Take it back.”
“So big,” she rasps, hips rocking. “So good.”
That emerald ribbon is taunting me with feigned innocence, so I wind one end around my middle finger and tug. Her silky hair frees itself from the braid, cascading down her back, and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon encases me, suffocating me in the best way.
Her thick waves slip through my fingers. “So fucking gorgeous.”
She hits me with a cheeky smirk over her shoulder, dimples pulled in. “I know.”
She thinks she’s won.
Slowly, I remove my finger, taking great pleasure in her falling smile, eyes storming as she spins around.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Tasting.”
Her gaze ignites as she watches my finger disappear inside my mouth. She takes a small step forward, reaching for me. I circle her wrists, stopping her. Her body hums with anticipation when I wind the ribbon around her wrists, finishing with a bow.
Taking her chin between my thumb and index finger, I bring her gaze to mine. The eagerness that swims there, the trust, the love, it shatters me. I love her so much, but it’s not going to stop my next words.
“Get on your knees.”
Her eyes gleam as she licks her lips. “Make me.”
I stride forward, staring down at her. She holds my gaze and matches each one of my steps with her own backward, until we’re beside her bed. Wide, blue eyes peer up at me, waiting for instruction but ready to fight it too.
She’s not going to fight it, though.
“Get on your fucking knees,” I repeat lowly, and she falls to them without another protest. “Good fucking girl.”
This endearing mixture of sassy, take-no-shit confidence, sweet innocence, and her desire for praise is what makes things so explosive between us, the way we can switch off, both take control and wield it as we please, always giving and getting what we need.
That and she just makes everything better. I was whole without her but unbalanced, like things weren’t quite right, everything slightly off center. With her, everything is brighter and clearer, stoking the passion that vibrates so intensely between us.
I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “This mouth gets you into a lot of trouble, huh?”
“You call it trouble; I call it fun.”
“The best fucking fun. Now open your mouth, sunshine.”
My fingers plow through her hair as I sink inside her hot, wet mouth. She takes me eagerly, moaning greedily around me.
“Fuck.” Holding her in place, I pull back, then thrust forward.
Her bound wrists lift, and she cups my balls, massaging them gently. My cock hits the back of her throat, over and over, and Jennie starts writhing, rocking, searching for friction. Her hands fall and a satisfied moan vibrates around me as she dips into her panties and works that pink bud at the cleft of her thighs. Her eyes roll toward the ceiling and her throat opens as she takes me farther, like she’s trying to swallow me.
“Jesus, Jennie. Fuck. Just like that.”
I’m gonna come, and I can tell by the desperation in her eyes, the way she’s grinding down on her hand, the garbled sounds my cock muffles, that she is too.
But she’s supposed to be begging.
I yank her hands off herself, holding onto that green ribbon, and she cries out, looking damn near on the verge of tears as I thrust forward once more, spilling down her throat.
“You’re a—”
“On the bed,” I direct gruffly, winding an arm around her and tossing her exactly there. Her chest heaves, swollen lips parted as I fist my cock. “Open your legs.”
She doesn’t hesitate, feet flat on the mattress, showing me her soaked panties, the wetness coating the inside of her thighs. I lie between her legs, and she shudders as my mouth follows the slick line up her thighs, tasting, savoring.
“Garrett,” she pleads, squirming as I shift her lace out of the way just a touch, nibbling, licking. “Take them off.”
“Why?”
“Lick me,” she begs. “Please.”
“I can lick you just fine with them on.” My tongue does one languid pass up the center of her panties, pulling a full-body tremble from her. “Do you want to feel my tongue?”
“God, yes.”
I trail the tip of my finger up her seam, ghosting over her clit. “Ask nicely.”
Her eyes blaze with her unwillingness to back down, so I flick my tongue over that needy, lace-covered clit, and watch how fast she folds.
“Oh fuck. Please, Garrett. Please.”
Hooking a finger in the crotch of her panties, I inch them down. She smells like paradise, a wildly intoxicating mix of earthy and sweet. If this were my last night on earth, I’d happily spend it buried between her thighs, devouring every last bit of her. She’d be my last meal, and I’d die a happy man.