Page 41 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

MIA

H is hands were everywhere at once, trailing fire across my skin as we stumbled backward toward the bed.

Our kisses had grown frantic, desperate after weeks of torturous anticipation.

All that action in the office, the racy photos we’d sent each other.

It had all been foreplay for this moment and oh my god, I was so ready for it. Desperate, in fact.

My thighs hit the edge of the bed, making me gasp as I reached for Jack’s shirt, buttons popping free under my impatient fingers.

Jack growled against my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine as his hands found the hem of my sweater, dragging it upward with agonizing slowness.

“Hurry,” I urged, nipping at his lower lip. “I’ve waited long enough.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against my throat as he trailed kisses down my neck. “Patience, Mia.”

I was done with patience. Done with waiting. Done with the sweet, exquisite torture he’d been putting me through for weeks. I shoved his shirt off his shoulders, marveling at the perfection of his chest even as my hands reached for his belt buckle.

He caught my wrists gently, his breathing ragged as he pressed his forehead against mine. The look in his eyes shifted from desperate need to something deeper, more deliberate.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint.

I stared up at him, panting, disbelieving. “You can’t be serious?” My voice came out as a frustrated whine.

Jack cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on my cheekbones. “We only have one shot at our first time. I don’t want it to be over in three minutes.”

“Oh.” Something in me melted, the raw tenderness beneath his words transforming my frustration into a different kind of ache.

“Let me do this right.” His voice was a rough caress, his eyes never leaving mine. “Let me worship you properly.”

How could I refuse him anything when he looked at me like that? I nodded, suddenly shy despite everything we’d already done together.

His responding smile was devastating, a promise of pleasure to come.

He lowered his mouth to mine again, but this time the kiss was different.

Slow. Deliberate. The kind of kiss that wasn’t a prelude to something else, but an experience all on its own.

Jack Sullivan could kiss me like this for all eternity and I’d never get sick of it.

His hands moved to the bottom of my sweater, lifting it over my head with reverent care.

My leggings and the layers we’d needed for the October chill followed, leaving me in nothing but the burgundy lingerie I’d bought with this night in mind.

Jack stepped back, his gaze traveling over me with such heated appreciation that I felt beautiful in a way I never had before.

“You’re exquisite,” he murmured. There was a note in his voice that left no room for doubt.

For once, I didn’t feel the need to deflect the compliment, to shrink myself or make a self-deprecating joke. According to Jack, I was perfect exactly as I was. Hot, exactly as I was. The knowledge was almost overwhelming.

I reached for him again. “Your turn.”

He let me undress him slowly, my fingers tracing each newly revealed inch of skin.

I took my time with his belt, the button of his trousers, the zipper, savoring his sharp intake of breath when my knuckles brushed against his hardness.

When we were both down to our underwear, he guided me back onto the bed, positioning me against the pillows before covering my body with his.

The weight of him was delicious, the heat of his skin against mine sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.

His mouth found mine again, the kiss deeper now, more urgent despite his determination to take things slow.

His hand slid up my side, thumb grazing the underside of my breast through the lace of my bra.

“Jack,” I breathed, arching into his touch.

He trailed kisses down my throat, across my collarbone, between my breasts. He reached for the clasp of my bra and unhooked it. When he drew the lace away, exposing me fully to his gaze, I didn’t feel an ounce of self-consciousness.

“Perfect,” he whispered against my skin, before taking my nipple into his mouth.

I gasped at the sensation, my hands flying to his hair, holding him closer as his tongue worked its magic.

He lavished attention on one breast, then the other, each lick and gentle nip sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

By the time his mouth began its downward journey, I was already trembling with need.

His kisses trailed across my stomach, his hands moving to my hips, fingers hooking into the lace of my panties. He looked up at me, a silent question in his eyes, and I nodded, lifting my hips to help him slide them down my legs.

He settled between my thighs, his hands spreading me wider as he lowered his head. The first touch of his tongue made me cry out, my back arching off the mattress. He chuckled against me, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation as he began to explore me with thorough attention.

“Jack,” I whimpered, my hands fisting in the sheets. “Oh god.”

One of his hands moved to my hip, holding me steady as he continued his relentless assault. His tongue circled my clit before flicking across it in a rhythm that had me seeing stars. When he added his fingers, sliding two inside me while his mouth continued its magic, I nearly flew apart.

“That’s it,” he murmured against me, his voice a rumble I could feel through my entire body. “Let go for me, Mia.”

His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made my vision blur.

His tongue increased its pressure, its pace, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

My orgasm crashed over me in waves, each one more intense than the last, his name falling from my lips in a broken cry as pleasure consumed me completely.

Jack worked me through every aftershock, his touch gentling as the sensitivity became too much. When I finally collapsed back against the pillows, boneless and gasping, he placed one last kiss against my inner thigh before moving up my body.

His expression was a mixture of satisfaction and barely restrained need, his eyes dark with desire. I reached for him, needing to taste his mouth, to show him without words how incredible he’d made me feel. Our kiss was languid, unhurried despite the hardness I could feel pressing against my thigh.

My hand slid down his chest, then lower, wrapping around his hard, impressive cock. “I want you,” I whispered against his lips. “All of you. Bare, just like I promised.”

Jack’s eyes locked with mine, so hot I could have burst into flames. Then he positioned himself between my thighs, the head of his cock sliding through my wetness, teasing my entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

For answer, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With one smooth thrust, he filled me completely. Intense pleasure rippled through me, making me shudder.

“Fuck, Mia,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. “You feel incredible.”

“Straight back at you,” I gasped out.

His entire body trembled above me, muscles taut with the effort of restraint. I could feel him pulsing inside me, fighting for control.

“Jack?”

He dragged in air. “Give me a second, or this will be over before it starts.”

I ran my hands soothingly along his back, oddly touched by his struggle. The mighty Jack Sullivan, always so controlled, now completely undone. By me. The power of that realization was intoxicating.

After several deep breaths, he lifted his head to meet my gaze, his eyes dark with barely leashed desire. “Okay. I’m good now.”

I couldn’t form words, could only clutch at his shoulders as the delicious fullness of him inside me sent sparks of renewed pleasure through my sensitized body. When he began to move, shallow thrusts that gradually deepened, I thought I might die from the perfection of it.

His pace was measured, controlled, each stroke designed to drive me higher without rushing toward completion. His eyes never left mine, the intensity of his gaze adding another layer to our connection. One of his hands slid between us, thumb circling my clit in time with his thrusts.

“Jack,” I gasped, feeling the tension building once more. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his movements becoming more purposeful. “Come for me again, Mia.”

The change in angle, the increased pressure of his thumb, the way he whispered my name like a prayer, it all combined to send me hurtling over the edge for a second time. My body clenched around him, drawing a guttural groan from deep in his chest.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, never stopping his movements as I rode the wave. “So fucking beautiful.”

Before I’d fully recovered, he shifted us, rolling onto his back without breaking our connection. I found myself straddling him, his hands guiding my hips as I adjusted to the new position.

“Take what you need,” he urged, his voice rougher now, his control clearly slipping.

The power of being on top, of setting the pace, sent a thrill through me. I began to move, finding a rhythm that had us both gasping. Jack’s hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts, thumbs teasing my nipples, before sliding down to where we were joined.

He found my clit again, his touch exactly what I needed to spiral toward a third climax. I rode him harder, faster, chasing the building pleasure even as I watched his face for signs of his own approaching release.

“Mia,” he warned, his muscles tensing beneath me. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Then don’t,” I urged, grinding down against him. “Come with me, Jack.”

His thumb pressed more firmly against my clit, and that was all it took. I shattered one final time, crying out his name as ecstasy washed over me. Jack followed an instant later, his hips bucking up into mine, his groan of completion the most erotic sound I’d ever heard.

I collapsed onto his chest, our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing ragged as we came down together. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as if he couldn’t bear for there to be any space between us.

When I could finally form coherent thoughts again, I lifted my head to look at him. His eyes were dark and satisfied, like he was taking immense pride in my disheveled state. And hey, I could hardly blame him.

“Worth the wait?” His voice was low and confident, as though he already knew the answer.

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Almost. But I think we might need to practice a few more times to be sure.”

His answering laugh rumbled through his chest. “Whatever you need, Mia. Whatever you need.”

With Jack’s arms around me and sleep slowly claiming me, I realized something profound: I’d never felt so completely, perfectly myself as I did in this moment.

Not because Jack had given me multiple earth-shattering orgasms, but because with him, I didn’t need to hide, to shrink, to be anything other than exactly who I was.

At some point, I was going to have to examine what that meant.