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The world narrows to just this: his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, the warmth of his body against me. When we finally part for air, we're both breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine, and I keep my eyes closed, savoring the moment.

The rooftop gravel digs into my palms when he lowers us down onto his jacket. His mouth never leaves mine, hungry but controlled, like he’s trying to pace this. My fingers fumble with his belt buckle—cold metal against trembling hands—until he stills them with his own.

"Vanessa." His voice comes out rough, thumb brushing my pulse point. "We don’t have to?—"

I bite his lower lip in answer, sharp enough to make him gasp. His composure cracks. The sound unravels something primal in my gut.

He undresses me like he’s unwrapping sacred text, calloused palms skating up my thighs as he pulls off my tights. The night air licks my bare skin, but his breath on my neck burns hotter. When his teeth find that spot below my ear—the one even I didn’t know about—my back arches off the makeshift bed.

"Jack." His name escapes as half plea, half prayer.

He pauses, pupils blown wide. "Tell me."

I drag his face back to mine instead. His shirt disappears somewhere between feverish kisses, warm skin flush against me. My panties follow, discarded right next to my bra.

Jack's hands explore with devastating precision. No rushed groping, no performative theatrics. Just knuckles skating up my inner thigh, fingertips fluttering against my clit, palm cradling my breast like he’s weighing its worth in gold. When his mouth follows suit, hot and wet against my nipple, I fist the jacket fabric beneath us.

"Look at me." He waits until I obey before sliding his cock into me, so agonizingly slow I feel each millimeter. The stretch burns sweet. His groan rumbles through both our chests, harmonizing with my whimper.

Our rhythm builds gradual—deep rolls of hips that shift gravel beneath the wool lining. His forehead stays pressed to mine, breathing syncing as we move. The city’s glow paints sweat-slick skin mercury bright. I count his expressions between gasps: parted lips, fluttering eyelids, tendons straining in his neck.

"Good?" he asks, thumb pressing circles against my clit.

"Yes—god—please?—"

Stars fracture behind my eyelids. His mouth swallows my cry as my nails carve half-moons into his shoulders. He follows moments later, shuddering through his climax with a choked sound that’s almost human.

We lie tangled afterward, his heartbeat thundering against my sternum. His fingers absently trace nonsense patterns on my hip. I press closer, memorizing the salt-metal taste of his skin, the way his breathing hitches when I nip his jaw. Our legs entwine like roots seeking the same underground river.

I want more.

The gravel bites into my knees as I shift above him, Jack's hands still roaming my back like he's mapping undiscovered territory. His breathing hitches when my thigh brushes against him—cock already hard again, heat pressing against my inner leg. No words needed. I catch his lower lip between my teeth as I rise up, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.

Moonlight catches the sweat sheen as I straddle him properly. The night air raises goosebumps along my spine, a sharp contrast to the furnace heat where our skin meets. I grind down once experimentally, swallowing his choked groan like it's oxygen. His grip tightens, hips arching off the wool jacket beneath us.

Faster this time. Hungrier. My palms flatten against his pecs as I find the rhythm—short, sharp rolls of my hips that make his abdominal muscles jump beneath my thumbs. His eyes stay locked on mine, pupils swallowing the green irises whole. Every thrust jostles the gravel beneath us, the pressure of his fingers digging in my ass keeping me anchored to reality.

He sits up abruptly, surprising a gasp from me as our torsos press together. Calloused hands cup my face, his mouth claiming mine with bruising intensity. I claw at his shoulders, nails leaving red trails as he tilts my hips to change the angle. The new position sends sparks up my spine, my head falling back as he sucks a mark beneath my jaw.

"God, you—" His voice breaks when I clench around him, the muscles in his neck standing out like steel cables. My thighs tremble, the tension coiling so fast it steals my breath.

He growls something guttural against my collarbone, teeth scraping skin as another climax rips through me. The world whites out—stars above blurring with the ones behind my eyelids. I barely register his fingers digging into my hips as he follows, hips stuttering against mine with three final, brutal thrusts.

We collapse sideways onto the jacket, legs still tangled. His chest heaves against me, heart slamming against my chest in double time. I trace the crescents my nails left on his forearm, listening to our ragged breathing sync up again. His lips brush the nape of my neck—once, twice—before settling against my damp skin.

I'm too tired, too utterly satisfied to worry if I've made a mistake.

CHAPTER10

VANESSA

Ican't focus on the espresso machine. My mind keeps drifting back to last night—Jack's hands, his mouth, the way he... The milk overflows, snapping me back to reality.

"Third time you've done that today." Becca's voice carries that knowing lilt that makes my cheeks burn. "Someone got laid."

"Keep your voice down." I grab a cloth, wiping furiously at the counter. My skin tingles just thinking about how Jack's fingers felt trailing down my?—

"Oh my god, you're blushing! Was it that good?"