Page 13

CHAPTER 13

JACK

I push her through the doorway, my hands already tangled in her hair, her fingers clawing at the back of my shirt. The door slams shut behind us, the sound echoing sharper than it should. The apartment’s dim glow—just the city light filtering through the blinds—illumes her face, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed.

“Big plans for tonight?” I mouth against her ear, nipping at the lobe. She shivers, her hands slipping up my chest to lock around my neck.

“Wasn’t expecting company,” she breathes, her voice a low hum, tinged with a laugh.

My fingers trace her waist, her ribs, the curve of her hips. Every touch sends a jolt through both of us. Her breath catches when my hands skim the edge of her shirt, her nails digging into my shoulders in response.

We’re a tangle of limbs and fabric and desperate, wet kisses through the apartment. Her back hits the bed, and she pulls me down with her, her legs hooking around my hips. I press into her, slow, deliberate, the friction sparking between us.

Her hands are under my shirt now, her palms tracing the planes of my back, clawing down my spine. Every touch ignites something hotter, sharper, until I’m blind with it. I yank her dress off, the fabric ripping in my haste, and she gasps, the sound swallowed by my mouth.

Her skin is hot under my hands, her pulse pounding against my fingertips. I’m on fire, burning through every rule, every protocol, every rational thought. She arches into me, her lips parting on a breathless “Yes,” and I know I’m gone, completely, irrevocably gone.

I feel her hands at my waist, the buttons of my jeans popping open one by one. My cock springs out, and her eyes go wide like she's looking at dessert. The air is thick with tension, the space between us charged. "Vanessa," I start, but she cuts me off with a look, her eyes locked on mine.

"Let me," she says, her voice steady, yet soft. There's a vulnerability there, something beneath the surface that makes me pause, makes me want to understand her better.

I don't say anything else. My fingers tighten in her hair as she lowers her head, her breath warm against my cock. The first touch sends a shiver through me, and I close my eyes, focusing on the sensations she creates.

I can feel her intent in every movement, every pressure. She's not just doing this; she's pouring herself into it, each swipe of her tongue deliberate.

The room is quiet, save for the sounds of our breathing, the faint hum of the city outside. It's intimate, the kind of moment that feels like it could stretch on forever. I'm acutely aware of her, of how this moment connects us beyond words.

I open my eyes, looking down at her, her form illuminated by the city light. She glances up, our eyes meeting, and I see something there, a flicker of emotion that makes my chest tighten.

"Vanessa," I say again, softer this time. She doesn't respond, just keeps her eyes on mine while she bobs her head up and down, her movements steady. I can feel the intensity building, the edge of control slipping.

I want to step back, to slow down, but I can't. Not now. Not with her looking at me like that. I feel myself getting closer, the pressure rising, and I know I should warn her, but the words catch in my throat.

Then it's too late. I mutter a curse, the release hitting me hard, and I'm digging my fingers into her shoulders, holding her steady. She stays with me until the end, her touch gentle, her presence grounding.

When I finally open my eyes, she's sitting back on her heels, her hair a little mussed, her lips swollen. She looks up at me, a small smile playing on her lips. "Alright?" she asks, her voice tinged with amusement.

I nod, still catching my breath. "Yeah."

I pull her close, my hands cradling her face as I lower myself over her. She looks up at me, her eyes soft but charged with something unspoken. I can feel the heat between us, a magnetic pull that’s impossible to ignore. My mouth meets hers, slower now, deeper, like I’m trying to breathe her in.

Her arms wrap around my waist, her fingers tracing the small of my back. I shift my weight, settling against her, the friction sending a shiver through both of us. She arches slightly, her legs parting, and I slide my hand down, my fingers brushing against her slit. She’s ready, wet, and trembling under my touch.

“Vanessa,” I murmur, my voice low, rough. “Look at me.” Her eyes flicker open, locked on mine. I push my cock in her slowly, deliberately. She exhales sharply, her hands gripping my arms, her nails digging in.

The room fades out except for the two of us. Her breath catches, hiccupping, as I move, steady, unrelenting. Her eyes never leave mine, even when they start to gloss over, even when her lips part on a soundless cry.

I feel her tighten around me, her body coiling like a spring. She gasps, her head tilting back, and I follow her, my mouth tracing her neck, my teeth grazing her skin. She comes with a sharp, exquisite shudder, her hands clawing at me, pulling me closer. I let go then, letting the wave take me, my release blinding, earth-shattering.

I collapse next to her, the only sound the rapid beat of our hearts. Her fingers drift through my hair, tentative, gentle. I bury my face in her shoulder, her scent flooding my senses. The world outside doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but this—her, me, the way we fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

And in this moment, I know I’m in trouble.