I make a feast of her against that wall. I start off slowly, licking her up each side and then straight through her center. Hitting everywhere except her clit. Getting off on teasing her and feeling her writhe against me as she desperately tries to shift her hips so I hit that spot.
But I don’t give in. I taste her arousal building, feel the tension in the way her legs clamp around my body. I drag my hand down and slide two fingers into her. They go so fucking easy now. I’ve got a front row seat for the second time tonight. Her tight little pussy parts and squeezes around my digits as I scissor them inside her under the bright lights of her dressing room.
Wetness leaks out, making a fucking mess of us.
“Jasper.” She moans. “More. Please.”
“So fucking polite,” I murmur back, glancing up to see her watching me with shiny, heavy eyes. My fingers brush over her clit, and she jolts around me. “So tight and ready and needy for me. And you danced so fucking pretty for everyone. I think you deserve more tonight, don’t you?”
She nods, top teeth pressing into her pillowy bottom lip. How desperate she looks right now makes me grin.
Just as desperate for me as I am for her.
So I reward her for that.
I slide two fingers back into her and drop my mouth all at once. My teeth graze her clit as my fingers work her, and she lets out a little shriek. I latch on, sucking her into my mouth, still working my fingers and tongue, getting off on the way her shriek morphs into a loud moan.
A moan that ends with, “Oh, god. Jasper. I’m going to come.”
My fingers take on a twisting motion, and I don’t let up. She thrashes around me, legs shaking and fingers yanking almost painfully in my hair as she comes apart above me.
And not quietly either. She calls out my name, louder than she should, but I don’t care. I get off on people knowing what we’re doing in here.
After years of keeping it a secret, it feels good to let it out.
When her limbs soften, I glance up, fingers still stuffed inside her.
Her eyes shine down at me. “Well, that was unexpected. Better than going for another tattoo?” She quirks a brow, and I match the expression as I withdraw from her warm body.
“So much better and I’m not even done.” I push to stand, taking her body with me, sliding her up the wall as my free hand grapples with my pants.
Belt. Button. Shirt. Boxers.
I rip through it all and shove into her as her legs wrap around my waist. “Fucking the fancy prima ballerina up against the wall like the filthy girl she really is? Much, much better than getting another tattoo.”
My hips flex as I buck into her again.
“Fuck,” her eyes flash and flutter shut as her head rolls against the wall. She’s so gone right now, and we’re past the point of pretending our bodies don’t drive the other one absolutely insane.
“Eyes on me, Sloane.” My fingers find her throat and give her a warning squeeze.
Lashes flick open, and she looks me straight in the eye. No hesitation. No shyness. I’m sure I’ve fucked all the shyness out of her in the past several weeks.
“Harder,” she urges.
“Which one?” I push my hips forward hard, slamming her into the wall. “Pussy?” Then pulse my hand around her neck, “Or throat?”
Heat simmers in her aqua eyes, they burn so fucking hot when she tips her chin at me in challenge. “Both.”
I snap.
I feel like I unleash a lifetime of pent-up tension.
I feel unhinged as I fuck her into the wall without mercy, spurred on by her loud cries and nails digging in against the back of my neck. My hand squeezing just a little bit harder at the slender column of her throat—just how she likes it.
She’s small, easy to maneuver how I want, but there’s nothing fragile about Sloane. She takes everything I have to give and meets me with equal fervor.
The wet slapping of our bodies mingles with the rattle of the painting on the wall every time I drive into her body.
I’m hard and unrelenting.
But added to our soundtrack is her demanding, “More,” and, “Harder,” and I don’t hold back. There’s nothing tender or sweet about us right now, but we have lots of moments like that together. We reach for each other in the middle of the night, slowly moving together. We’re playful in the mornings, my stubble against her inner thighs making her giggle and gasp.
But right now?
This is therapeutic. Like we’re punishing each other for so many years and moments missed.
If she wants more and harder, I’ll give it.
I’ll give her anything she wants at this point.
“Jasper, I need more.” Her eyes lock with mine. My wildness reflects right back into hers. I drop a rough kiss to her mouth and pull out, flipping her. I’m manhandling her and thriving on the way she moves the way I want her to.
“Hands flat on the wall, Sloane. Bend over. Spread your legs.” She obeys and I reach down, further ripping the wet hole in her tights and tugging the bodysuit way off to the side.
She tilts her ass out in offering, and I step close. “You want me to fill you up, Sloane?”
“Yes,” she moans, pressing herself back into me.
“Say it,” I palm her firm ass cheeks, spreading her and teasing her entrance with the head of my cock.
“I want you to fill me up, please.”
I smirk and lean next to her ear. “Of course, you do. You’re fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”
It’s her turn to smirk over her shoulder at me. “Yeah, but so are you.”
Her hips swivel in a taunt, and I grab them hard, shoving into her. She barely lasts bent over before I’ve forced her right up against the wall as my dick drives in and out of her, hitting that spot I know she loves so much.
I know because of the noises she makes. The way she pushes back on me. The way she cries out.
She keeps her hands on the wall like I instructed but is still looking over her shoulder at me with so much fucking love in her eyes. More love than I’ve ever seen. More love than I deserve or know what to do with.
The kind of love I’ve been known to sully.
I grip her chin and kiss her. I kiss her hard and full of all the feelings I’m too fucked-up to put a title on.
And then we topple over the edge together, into something I’m trying not to let panic me.
I fight to stay in the moment, with her pressed tightly against me.
We’re so in tune.
So perfect together.
So perfect together that icy tendrils slink down my spine. Because I’m me. And anytime something is perfect, it always goes to shit.
The knock on the door is proof of that.
33
Jasper
“Just a second!” Sloane melts against me.
We’re plastered against each other, breathing heavily when there’s another hard knock at the door.
I smirk, running my nose along the back of her neck, damp with sweat and little flyaways loose from the tight bun in her hair. “Someone probably heard you screaming and wants to check if you’re alright.”
Her shoulders shake with laughter as I pepper kisses over them. “I’m not alright. You made a mess of me, and my legs are going to give out if you let me go.”
With a deep laugh, I swoop into a crouch, picking her robe up off the floor, knowing it will be the quickest, easiest way to cover her up. With me holding it wide, she slides her arms into the loose sleeves while I settle it around her shoulders.