When he eased a second finger into her, his hand moving in a steady rhythm as his thumb circled harder, Grace exploded.
This was no well-isn’t-this-nice? orgasm that she was used to. It was her personal apocalypse. Her hands clutched frantically at his hair as her hips writhed on his hand. Too-wide hips that she hadn’t once tried to hide from Jake the way she might have with Greg.
She pushed the thought aside. Ex-boyfriends did not belong in her bedroom. Not here, not ever.
Jake gently laid her back on the bed, giving her head a chance to stop spinning as he eased off her jeans and thong before lying alongside her, running a hand up her side as his lips nuzzled her neck.
“One of us is more exposed than the other,” she said, shocked to feel herself responding all over again as his hand cupped the underside of her breast.
“Imagine what we must look like,” he said, his teeth grazing her shoulder. “Tell me it doesn’t turn you on. You all naked and wanton and wild, and me all calm and reserved and, well … dressed.”
“Think we should change that?” she asked playfully, her fingers finding the button of his shirt.
“Next time,” he said against her breast. “This time I want you like this. Naked, out of control, and mine.”
Grace gasped as he flipped her over onto her belly. He moved closer still, and Grace realized that he’d been right. The roughness of his clothes against her bare skin was almost painfully erotic. He planted damp kisses along her spine, his hands moving briefly over her butt before gripping her hips and pulling her up onto all fours as he moved behind her. She whimpered when he pressed his cock against her, feeling his hardness even through his jeans.
“You want this, Grace?”
“Yes,” she said, her fingers gripping the comforter in anticipation.
“You want me?”
“Yes.”
His hand briefly toyed with her nipple before sliding down her belly and touching her still sensitive center. He swore when he found her wetness and his hand disappeared briefly before she heard the sound of a zipper, followed by the crinkling of a condom wrapper.
His hand came between her thighs, pushing them apart roughly before he moved behind her, positioning himself at her opening.
They both groaned when he entered her, just an inch at first, then another, before he pulled almost all the way out. Then he started all over again, giving it to her inch by inch in a teasing, rocking motion.
“You’re so damned perfect,” he said, his hands finding her hips. With one final thrust, he was all the way inside her.
They found their rhythm immediately, and now that Jake had put the thought in her head, Grace couldn’t stop thinking about the picture they made, her naked on the bed, with a fully clothed man taking her from behind.
She’d never cared much for this position in the past—it had always felt a bit demeaning. But with Jake’s hands all over her body, his words all over her mind, it felt delightfully dirty.
Jake’s thrusts were getting more frantic now, and his hand fondled her ass cheek briefly before sliding around again to her wet center, finding the spot just above where he filled her.
Two fingers circled her then and she bucked and moaned. “Again, Grace.”
“I can’t …”
She’d never been a two-orgasm-a-night kind of girl. She knew Riley’s articles said it was possible, but it never had been for her.
But then she’d never been good and totally taken by Jake Malone, because his fingers knew exactly how to play her, rubbing in smaller and smaller circles, centering on just the right spot, until she was once again on the edge of sanity.
She cried out loudly, her fingers scratching at the covers as though in a useless attempt to keep from losing her mind. The second she clenched around him, Jake swore roughly, pounding into her furiously before he let out a guttural cry as his hips hammered against hers.
When her head stopped spinning, Grace could do little more than slide down until she was lying on her stomach, Jake following her down, his warm weight pressed against her. He pressed a lazy kiss to her shoulder blade before pulling out and retreating to the bathroom, presumably to discard the condom.
She told herself to move. Told herself that lying diagonally across the bed, completely limp and naked and sweaty, was not exactly sex-kitten behavior. But her limbs refused to cooperate.
A sharp smack on her butt, however, had her bolting upright onto her knees as she rubbed the smarting cheek.
“Couldn’t help it,” Jake said, looking devilishly rumpled. “It was a fantastic view.”
“Well, it should have stayed a view. Look and don’t touch, and all that.”