And right now?
All I needed was him.
I pushed up on my elbow, wrapping my hand around the back of his head to grip a fistful of his hair. Yes, I had little to no experience with sex but with Jansen? It was pure instinct, pure primal demand. “I want you, Jansen,” I said again. “I want you to do whatever you want with me. To me.”
He shuddered against me, the motion sending hot shivers up my spine. “What if I want to take you hard and fast?”
I became liquid—all limp limbs and breathless moans.
“Then take me hard and fast.”
He lowered his mouth to mine, claiming my lips with a searing kiss as he rolled his hips against me. Teasing me. I arched into it, seeking more. “What if I want to take my time?” he said against my mouth, his hands traveling down my ribs. “Worship your body until you can’t stand a second more of the torture.”
“Then do that,” I said, yanking him to me and kissing him just as hard and hungry as he had me.
I reached my free hand down between us, shifting so I could grip his hard length. He hissed against my lips as I squeezed him.
“What if—”
“Any way. All ways. As long as it’s you.”
Jansen stilled above me, his eyes flaring like blue flames. He shifted on the bed, reaching toward a nightstand near the head—
“I want all of you, Jansen,” I said, stopping him. “You already know I’m clean,” I hurried to add. “And I got on the pill after that night in the hotel.”
He shuddered above me. “I am too,” he said. “But, London—”
“I trust you,” I said. “If you don’t want to then I understand. But you asked me to tell you what I wanted.” I bit my bottom lip, wondering if I was asking too much. “I want to feel you inside me with no barriers.”
Something snapped, some restraint he’d held himself back with.
One second, I gripped him, and the next?
He’d drawn back, rising to his knees between my legs. He hooked his hands behind my knees, yanking me to him.
And he plunged inside me in one, fast, hot, thrust.
I moaned, arching off the bed to meet him as he pulled out and thrust in again.
And again.
And again
All the while, those burning blue eyes watched me, seared me down to the very quick of my soul. I raised my hands above my head, gripping those sheets as I held that gaze. He smirked at the submissive move, and God, he looked glorious. All the hard ridges of his abs on display as he slammed into me. The whorls of ink decorating his chest, his ribs. The muscles in his arms rippling as he yanked on my legs with each thrust.
“Harder,” I moaned, damn near demanded as I fisted those sheets.
“Fuck, London,” he growled, upping his pace. “You’re so tight, wet. You feel fucking amazing.” He accentuated each word with a harder thrust, his cock filling every inch of me.
I arched off the bed, using his hold on me for leverage as I explored the angle. Hot damn, he slid in deeper, the head of his cock touching some inner spot that pulsed and sparked with each graze.
“Faster,” I said, and that smirk deepened as he pounded into me.
Each stroke, each thrust, those sparks ignited to writhing flames. Consuming me, twisting me into a tight braid desperate for release.
“Jansen,” I breathed his name, my body a tingling, buzzing thing completely at his mercy. “God, yes. That. Keep. Doing. That.”
He pounded into me harder, his hold on my legs keeping me in place so I could feel every exquisite stroke.
“Fuck, London,” he growled, driving into me like he wanted to brand himself on my skin, my body, my soul.
Everything inside me clenched with an all-consuming fire, the flames licking up my spine. I tightened and trembled, a glittering storm winding up and up until I was sure I’d shatter completely.
“Jansen,” I moaned, writhing beneath him. “I’m. Going. To. Come.”
“Fuck, yes,” he growled, shifting his position so that he hovered closer to me. The move had his pelvis grinding against my clit with each strong, fast, pump—
I screamed his name, my entire body bursting with exquisite sparks as I completely and wholly unraveled. Jansen hardened inside me, the length of him filling me so deep, his long strokes drawing out my orgasm as he found his own release.
I shook against him, even as he lowered himself, planting a slow, languid kiss on my lips. Trembling, I released the sheets and wrapped my arms around him. He fell to my chest, our bodies sweat-slicked and blissfully, deliciously spent.
And as I ran my fingers through the dark strands of his hair, doing my best to calm my racing heart, I knew two things for certain.
One, there would never be anything as torturously wonderful as him.