Page 31 of The Good Girl Effect (Salacious Legacy #1)

Camille

I must cry myself to sleep because I wake in the middle of the night feeling drained, physically and emotionally.

Lying in the silent, pitch-black room, it dawns on me that I am falling for Jack St. Claire.

I don’t know when it happened or what I’m supposed to do with this information now, but all I know is that I am on my way to loving him.

And I had no idea love was supposed to hurt so much.

Sitting up, I look at the clock and see it’s nearly three in the morning. I climb from my bed, intending to go to the desk to find a piece of paper and a pen, when I hear a creak in the hallway.

I freeze, my hand halfway to the desktop.

Everything inside me feels too raw to know how to handle this. If he is out there, then what? Is he just creeping into my hallway to see me? To talk to me?

If we can’t keep doing our sessions, then surely we can’t keep doing this either, right? Whatever this is.

I take a step toward the door. It’s closed, so I press my hand to the surface, knowing he’s on the other side. Can he feel me standing here? Does he know how much I want to reach for him?

We didn’t ask for this. I only took a job, not intending for the chemistry between us to be so visceral. Who are we to fight against it?

I hear another creak, this one even closer. Then something soft scratching against the door, and I know he’s there, likely suffering the same agony I am.

For a while, we both wait. And in each passing second, I realize that I have a decision to make. Open this door or keep it closed. If I open it, I welcome in more confusion but also indulgence and maybe…love. If I keep it closed, then it could—and probably should—stay closed forever.

When my hand lands on the doorknob, I know there is no choice. Not really. Not where he is involved.

Twisting it, I pull the door open and stare into the dark hallway at the man lurking outside. He looks into my eyes with intensity, and somehow, I know he feels the same way I do.

“I never hated you,” he says, and it’s almost silent. Then he takes a step toward me so I can feel the warmth of his body.

“I want to believe that.” We are standing at the precipice of something grand, ready to jump.

His hand lifts to touch my face the same way it did that first night I found him here.

“We really shouldn’t do this,” he whispers so quietly the words drift off into the darkness.

“I don’t care,” I reply.

“Neither do I.”

With that, he wraps a hand around the back of my neck and drags me forcefully into his arms. We don’t utter a word before our lips crash together.

His kiss tastes familiar, although it’s the first one. Our tongues collide in harmony like we’ve been doing this for a hundred years. I squeeze my arms around him tighter as I kiss him deeper, trying to get every single morsel of him, his nearness, his touch.

As he lifts me from the floor, I wrap my legs around his waist, and he devours me with both his lips and his hands.

Stumbling into my room, he closes the door behind him until we’re alone.

When he groans against my mouth, I tighten my legs around his waist, and heat blossoms in my core for him.

He has one hand on my ass, squeezing it hungrily as the other slides up my spine to hold the back of my head as leverage to kiss me even deeper.

We are a storm, a violent force of nature that can’t be stopped.

It’s only seconds after he drops me onto the bed, draping his body over mine, that we start tearing each other’s clothes off.

He only breaks the kiss long enough to pull my shirt over my head.

I do the same with his, letting my hands skate their way down his chest, over his pecs and abs and then back to his face to bring his mouth back to mine.

As he works to unclasp my bra behind my back, he grinds his hips against me, and I let out a purring sound. He’s already hard for me— for me.

My bra unclasps with a pop, and he quickly swipes it from my body before moving his ravenous lips to my breasts. They are small, barely a handful, but I don’t bother feeling self-conscious because he moans and growls with his teeth around my nipple as if he loves it.

The cool metal of his ring slides along the sensitive skin of my breast, and I’m ashamed of the way it causes the warmth in my belly to grow into a blazing fire.

Moisture pools in my panties, and I find myself moving against him, needy for more.

But he’s intent on teasing me, drawing out my arousal to torture me with it.

He moves his mouth to the opposite breast, humming as he sucks and nibbles on the sensitive bud. His hips keep up their grinding so that we’re both writhing in need.

When his lips move downward over my belly, he kisses me tenderly until he reaches the waistband of my pants. I feel breathless as goose bumps cover my flesh.

This can’t be happening. But it is. And it’s happening so fast.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband and tears my pants off with passion, taking my underwear with them. I am exposed and naked, something that feels so right and so wrong at the same time.

I barely get my pants kicked off before he’s growling hungrily against my core. There’s not a moment to breathe or think as his warm, wet mouth brings me to the brink of pleasure.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he mumbles against my sensitive flesh. Then he sucks eagerly on my clit, and I start to lose my mind.

Slamming my hand over my mouth, I hold it in when all I want to do is scream.

He’s rubbing his coarse jaw against my sex, and it burns.

But it’s such a good burn. It’s like he’s trying to cover his face in the moisture between my thighs.

The sensation has me so vulnerable and self-conscious while he’s delighting himself in my arousal.

Holding my legs open, he licks and sucks the most intimate part of me as if it belongs to him. And at this moment, it does. All of me belongs to him. My body, my heart, everything.

And he proves it as he forces me into a fast and violent climax, no matter how much I fight against it. My legs start to tremble as I’m assaulted by the intensity. I’ve never felt my heart pound so fast.

The moment my climax recedes, I reach for him. He retraces his steps with his mouth until he reaches my lips.

I’m eagerly fumbling with the zipper of his pants, and he’s helping to undo them. When we finally have them loosened, he wrestles them off and then lies back down on top of me, one naked body against another.

His lips taste like me, and it only heightens my arousal.

“I’m on birth control,” I whisper against his lips.

“I’ll pull out just in case,” he replies. “I just need to fuck you now.”

Hearing those words from his mouth causes goose bumps to break out over my skin. He needs to fuck me, as if he couldn’t stand to live another moment without it. I want to believe it’s more than physical. I want to believe he needs me in more ways.

Boxing me in with his arms resting on either side of my ears, he kisses me as his cock finds my core. I’m already so wet for him, mostly thanks to his mouth, that he slips in an inch without trouble. Then he moves slower, letting my body stretch and accommodate him.

We are breathing the same air as he thrusts himself in, one slow inch after another. I wrap my legs around his hips, my heels digging into his backside as I try to force him deeper. I need more.

As he reaches the hilt, pressed in as far as he can go in this position, he freezes. Lifting his head up a few inches, he stares into my eyes.

“We’ve done it,” he whispers. “We crossed the line.”

I know we should feel bad about that, but at this point, it feels like a relief. The damage is done.

“There’s no going back now,” I reply with a smile.

Pulling back, he grinds his hips forward, pressing slowly inside me as he says, “I like breaking the rules.”

A moan is pulled from my lips as he does that again, thrusting his hips fluidly, and I savor every second of having him inside me. “Me too,” I whisper on a gasp.

Finding my hand with his, he intertwines our fingers and presses them into the mattress above my head. Then he starts to pick up speed with his hips, finding a rhythm as he moves. My body seems to know this rhythm well, following him down a trail of pleasure.

We keep our voices low, but I find it more and more difficult the faster and harder he moves. When the bed starts to squeak from the motion, he stops.

The next thing I know, he’s pulling out and rising from the bed.

He reaches for me one second, and then I’m being hauled back into his arms. He hoists me against him like I weigh nothing.

My legs wrap around him again as he carries me to the wall, pressing my back to the cool, hard surface.

Then his cock finds its home again, and he impales me on his length, fucking me hard into the solid wall.

I cling to his neck as he thrusts, finding places inside me I never knew existed before. I’ve had sex with men, but never anything like this. Never with such passion and lust. Never with such a connection and chemistry. Never with such need and love.

I don’t want this to end. I want Jack St. Claire to lay claim to my body, bury himself inside me, and never leave. I want my body to be his home.

My back is pressed flat against the wall as his eyes find mine.

Even in the nearly silent room, I hear his heavy breathing and quiet grunts, and I kiss them right off his lips.

Our mouths are entangled as he continues to pound into me, the friction from his body sending me into another spell of heat and desire.

“N’arrête pas,” I murmur against his mouth. “N’arrête jamais.”

I don’t even realize I’m mumbling in French, begging him not to stop in a language he doesn’t even speak.

“I won’t,” he whispers in return, and my eyes pop open, staring at him in disbelief.

Now is obviously not the time to ask him if he really does speak French, but I’m so struck by this revelation that I almost miss the goose bumps erupting on my skin and the torrent of sensation coursing through my body.

My back arches, and I cling to him tightly as it all becomes almost too much to handle.

He lets out a growl as he pulls out, staring down and panting. I’m still gasping for air as he sets my feet on the floor, kissing me hard on the mouth. My limbs are weak, and my body feels like ice melting into water.

But he’s not done with me yet. Spinning me around, he tugs my hips back and enters me again.

I have to press my hands to the wall to keep myself upright as he thrusts fast, hitting new spots and making my body sing an entirely new tune.

I can only hold on as Jack makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.

My free hand covers my mouth again because it’s all too intense. When I sense his body begin to tense and tighten, he quickly pulls out. A moment later, the warm jets of his cum land on my back.

When he’s done, he wraps a hand around my throat and pulls me upright, pressing my back to his chest and kissing me on the side of the neck.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers, moving his mouth to my ear and then my lips. “So perfect.”

Turning my head, I lean into him as I stare into his eyes. Our bodies are warm with a sheen of sweat, pressed up against each other as we gasp for air together.

I have never known sex to be so consuming. And I don’t want to think about anything but this moment. Not tomorrow or the next day. I don’t care about the consequences. I just want to savor this feeling of being so close to him that it feels like we are one.

Jack disappears from behind me and goes into the bathroom. When he reappears a moment later, he has a warm, wet washcloth that he uses to clean my back.

After he’s done, he pulls me toward the bed. We both know we can’t sleep together here, but we can just lie together for a little while.

So as he drapes me over his chest, holding me close without saying a word, I know that’s all we’re doing, savoring a good moment for what it is—a moment.