Page 33 of The Surrender (Arlington Hall #2)

Light floods into the bedroom through the slatted blinds, making me squint as I sit up and look around.

I can hear noise coming from the kitchen, so I pull my hair into a ponytail as I follow the sound, finding Jude in his boxers opening and closing cupboards.

He sees me by the door and smiles timidly.

“I was going to make coffee, but I can’t find a kettle. ”

“I don’t have one yet.” I pass him on my way to get a glass of water, but don’t make it.

He seizes my arm and gently pulls me into his front, kissing me soft and slow.

The smell of him and feel of him against me wakes up my senses, and I succumb to the energy between us, accepting his tongue in my mouth, pushing my front into his.

“I’m not talking to you,” I mumble, my hands disappearing past the waistband of his boxers.

“I’m not asking you to.” He lifts me to his body, and every limb curls around him as he walks us back to my bedroom. He sits me down on the edge and kneels on the floor, putting his hands on my thighs and spreading them.

“Shit,” I whisper, as he kisses the insides of my knees, sending ripples of need through me.

He peeks up at me, his lips moving agonisingly slowly, his eyes telling me he’s enjoying my building condition.

I lift my T-shirt over my head and throw it aside, dropping to my elbows and looking down my body into his hungry gaze as he dots kisses up the insides of my thighs, alternating between legs, each press of his lips into my flesh having me tense a little bit more in anticipation.

Then when he reaches the sensitive, delicate skin just shy of my entrance, he nibbles and sucks, and I groan, my head rolling.

The tip of his tongue skims the tip of my clit, making me convulse, and then swirls deep, making me shake.

“Jude,” I murmur, and he hums against me, lapping greedily through my wetness, sucking me into his mouth, pushing his tongue inside me.

My shoulders start to ache from holding myself up, but I don’t tumble to my back.

I want to see him. I sit up, spread my legs more, hold his hair in my fists, and look down at his face buried in my pussy.

It’s the most erotic vision, his lips wet, his eyes sparkling, his fingers clawing into my thighs as he licks me out, feasts on me, his hot mouth encasing me, kissing, biting, sucking, swirling.

The fingertips of one hand un-claw, and he reaches between his legs, groaning when he takes himself in a fist. “Oh God,” I whisper, my pleasure pushed into a whole new frenzy. “Jude.”

He works himself as he works me, taking us higher, my fists in his hair brutal, making him hiss when I yank.

“I’m coming,” I yell, out of my mind, dizzy, every inch of me burning.

“I’m coming!” I feel myself reach the point of no return, my breath held to take the hit, but suddenly his mouth is gone.

“Jude!” He yanks me off the bed onto his lap, and I sink down on a yell, my build revived.

My mouth homes in on his shoulder, clamping down as he fills me to the absolute brim.

“I won’t be long,” I warn, knowing the moment we start moving I’m going to be flung into delirium.

I kiss the spot I’ve just bitten and across his neck to his jaw, onto his lips.

“Me either.” He lifts his arse from his heels, raising to his knees and then his feet, all the while keeping us connected. My back meets a wall. His eyes explode with intent. “Ready?”

“No.” The word is pure air. “I’m never ready for you, Jude Harrison.”

He groans and swoops in, taking my mouth hard and pushing me up the wall with a swivel of his hips, kissing me violently.

And it’s glorious.

The sweat is instant. The shock waves relentless. His control and accuracy are faultless, every drive measured. I slide up and down the wall on constant yells, fighting with his hair, pulling, biting at his lip, the deepness he’s achieving sending me wild.

“Still not talking to me?” he grunts, following up his question with a particularly brutal pound.

“No.” I fist his hair at his temples and hold tight, making him face me.

I look into his eyes, enduring his power and pace, taking it all.

“Fucking hell, Jude,” I gasp, slamming my head back, the friction of the plaster rubbing against my spine becoming sore, my hand throbbing.

“Oh God.” I puff and pant, my stomach muscles in pieces, enduring his power.

“Keep making those noises, baby.”

“Oh, Jesus.” I can feel it threatening, slithering through my body. “Oh God.”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Jude!”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

“Oh God!”

“Come on!”

“Oh, yes!”

“Fuck, you look incredible.”

“I’m coming!”

He growls and hammers on, faster. Harder.

“Jude!”

“Yes!”

I bury my face in his neck on a yell, my throat instantly raw, my body out of control, shaking against him as he spills himself into me, cursing to high heaven.

It goes on forever, our shouts, the pleasure, my world spinning out of control, until he convulses, his fist smashes into the wall, and he crumples to the floor, cushioning my landing.

I lay, spattered all over his sprawled body, panting, replete.

Tingling everywhere.

“I take it I’m forgiven,” he wheezes.

“I take it that means you’re sorry,” I puff back, beat, but somehow finding the energy to lick my way across his chest, up to his salty neck.

“I’m very sorry.” He tilts his head back, lengthening his neck for me, giving me more licking space. “And I forgive you too.”

“What did I do?” I ask, making it to his chin. His cheek. His eyes. His forehead.

“Threatened abstinence. I told you, that’s a hard no for me.”

“And interfering with my career is a hard no for me.”

“Are we establishing boundaries?”

I smile despite myself, sitting on his hips and admiring his sweaty, shiny chest, my palms on a feeling mission.

Jude rests his hands over mine, stilling them, and checks my dressing. “Really, Amelia?” There’s some blood on the edges. Not a lot, but still. It shouldn’t be bleeding.

“I needed to put my bed together.”

“You didn’t, though. You could have laid off on the stubbornness and stayed at my place.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“But you are now?”

“Since you apologised, yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The smile that breaks his face could break me , and he sits up, tackling my mouth again. “I love your new place.”

“Me too.”

“Can we have sleepovers?”

I laugh into his mouth, holding him in a firm hug as I devour him. “Whatever you want, baby,” I say with an edge of sarcasm, giving him one last peck before lifting from his body. “I have to go to the gym.”

“It’s Saturday. You’re on my time.”

I snort unattractively in amusement. “I’ve been on your time all week.”

He scowls. It’s quite endearing. “You can go to the gym at Arlington Hall. In fact, you should cancel your membership. It’s a waste when you have a gym at your disposal. It’s better too.”

“I’m not cancelling my membership, Jude.”

“Fine. Are you driving?” he asks, falling to his back, his eyes following me into the bathroom.

“I was going to take the Tube.”

“That would be silly because you’d have to come back here to get your car so you can come to see me.”

“Why can’t you come to see me here?”

“Because I stayed at your place last night,” he calls.

I flip on the shower, smiling to myself. My place. It sounds good. I drape a towel over the top of the door and step in the stall. “Fine, I’ll drive to the gym.”

Jude appears in the doorway, beautifully bare, his semi-erect cock still twitching. My God, he’s just too beautiful for words, and he knows it.

“I need some help,” I say, coy, opening the door for him while holding up my injured hand.

He smiles—it’s wildly stunning—and saunters over, casual.

He’s firming up again, a little more with each step.

“Keep your hand out of the spray.” He places it on the pane of glass, eyebrows high, and eases me back against the tiles.

The cold has me inhaling sharply. And when he slowly falls to his knees, I brace myself for another Jude Harrison Special.

“Greedy,” I murmur, as he reaches forward and forces my legs apart.

“Then you’d better keep feeding me.” His hot mouth is on me in a second, and my knees instantly give, sending me sliding down the wall on a broken groan, my eyes crossing with pleasure.

Pulling the door closed behind me, a travel cup of coffee in my hand, I aim my fob at my car, thoughtful. New apartment, new car.

New boyfriend.

“What are you thinking?” Jude says, taking my freshly dressed hand gently and walking us down the path to the road.

“Nothing,” I say, hearing another door close.

I look back and see a man leaving the door next to mine that leads up to the apartment above.

Mid-twenties, I’d say. Smart in a creative’s type of way, his jeans too tight and too short, his duster coat definitely from a vintage store.

He spots us, and I sense a wariness I’m not sure I should like.

“Hi.” I pull Jude to a stop. “I’m Amelia. I just moved in.”

He looks between me and Jude. “Jasper,” he says, getting his rucksack on his back. “Welcome.” He eyes Jude.

“Boyfriend,” Jude pipes up, moving closer.

I roll my eyes at his blatant claim on me.

“Do you live here too?” Jasper asks, making me laugh out loud.

“No, Jude lives in Oxfordshire.” In a hotel on grounds probably bigger than this district. “He stayed the night.”

“Yes, I heard.” Jasper holds his hand out to Jude, his eyebrows brushing his hairline. “Or at least I heard this morning.”

I die on the spot as Jude chuckles, accepting Jasper’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure,” Jasper says.

“For Amelia, yes,” Jude quips.

I shrink, elbowing him in the ribs, making him laugh more. “It was nice to meet you, Jasper.” I pull Jude on, seeing his black Ferrari parked in front of my Jaguar, and I’m soon pressed into the side by his big body. I semi-scowl at the further blatant display of ownership.

“Looks like I might have to invest in some gags if you can’t keep your screams for me under control, baby.” He nuzzles into my face, biting at my cheek. “We don’t want to upset the neighbours.”

“Or I just resist you when we’re at my place.”

He lets out a sharp bark of laughter, and I laugh too. Because that statement was truly laughable. I can’t resist the irresistible. Proven.

“Have a wonderful time at the gym missing me.”

I shove him away and go to my car, dropping into the seat and watching him as he walks backwards to his Ferrari, a stupid, shit-eating grin on his face.

God, he’s maddening.

Adorable.

Mine.