Tessa could feel the intensity of his need for her like a physical force the instant his tongue made contact with the tight, hard peak of her nipple. The sheer power of it was so strong that it caused her to arch her back and let out a cry. It was more than the pure physical pleasure of having his tongue caressing the sensitive nubs that caused her to cry out, although the pleasure was fierce. It was the connection, the electricity that was flowing back and forth between them, not just within their bodies, but also within their souls. That was what really got to her and made her lose control.
She could have handled the pleasure. Pleasure was wonderful and she enjoyed it, but she had been given pleasure by other guys. She had also given herself pleasure on more than one occasion. Simple pleasure was a cheap imitation of the soul-consuming sensation that was currently streaking through her entire being, and that sensation could only be imparted to her by one person—Jake. That was the way it had always been, and it was abundantly clear to Tessa that that was the way it still was.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, pressing herself even harder into his mouth, unable to get close enough to him to satisfy the white-hot fire that was burning within her belly.
“Jake…” she whimpered as she reached for his shirt. She wanted to feel him. Skin to skin. “I want this off…”
Jake lifted his head and looked hungrily into her eyes, the naked lust she saw there, stoking her inner fire to even greater heights. He reached one hand behind him and yanked his shirt up and off of his body.
Then, moving over her, he covered her mouth with his, plunging his tongue inside. Tessa thought that she might explode from the burst of white-hot electricity that surged inside of her at that moment. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling her core tighten at the touch of his hardness through the layers of fabric that still separated them. The bare skin of his chest rubbed erotically against her sensitized peaks, only increasing the pleasure bursting between her legs.
She had forgotten how powerful this was with Jake. She had forgotten what it felt like when she wasn’t just having sex, but when she was making love.
She never wanted to forget again.
*
Jake kissed Tessa with all of the pent-up sexual energy that had been building, on some level, for the thirteen years since she had left. Sure, he had had sex since then. But those girls hadn’t been Tessa. None of them had mattered. He hadn’t felt anything except the most fundamental biological response to the act of two people having sex. It had felt empty and lonely.
Not like this. Not like he felt with Tessa. She was a part of him. When they were together he didn’t know where he stopped and she began.
A part of Jake couldn’t really make himself believe that this was actually happening, that he was actually here—in bed with Tessa—after all of these years. He couldn’t stop touching her, running his hands over her smooth, soft skin. Of course, part of that was because he simply loved the feel of her, couldn’t get enough of touching her. But another big part of it was an effort to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming, that she was actually here, that this was real.
Jake began peppering small kisses down her neck again, then her chest, moving past her breasts this time, and continuing down her belly. He trailed his tongue down the flat expanse and reveled in the feeling of her muscles jumping underneath her skin at his touch. He loved that he affected her that way. He just loved the fact that he could bring her that much pleasure with a simple touch.
When he reached the waistband of her jeans, he unbuttoned them and slipped them down her legs, bringing her lacy panties with him. He needed to see her naked before him. He needed to have nothing covering her, nothing hiding her from him, nothing between him and her gorgeous body.
When he had completely undressed her, his eyes traveled slowly up her naked flesh and he could see her trembling, whether from arousal or vulnerability—or a combination of both—he was not sure.
Without a word, he knelt at the side of the bed. Looking down he saw that her toenails were painted red. She was happy. He ran his finger over her toes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she lifted up on her elbows.
“They’re red.” He looked up and answered. “So that means you’re happy. Here.”
Her brow knitted in confusion. “What?”
“The night you got here, they were purple, so I knew you were sad. Now they’re red so I know you’re happy.”
Her lips parted as she shook her head a little in disbelief. “You remembered that?”
“I remember everything about you,” Jake said as he ran his fingertips up the outsides of her perfectly shaped legs and over her hips, feeling her skin shudder deliciously at his touch.