Sketching.
Chelsea is drawing. Me.
“Am I gonna have to pay you a dime, Jack?” My voice is gravelly with sleep and sex.
She smiles. And it’s beautiful. “This one is on the house, Rose.”
Yeah. Time to remind her I’m definitely not a Rose. I throw back the covers, putting my bare-assness on full display. I sit up, swing around to sit on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. I lower my hand, wrap it around my dick, and bring him back to life with just a few rough strokes. And Chelsea’s drawing suddenly stops short.
“I’ve never done an X-rated sketch. Are you auditioning to be my first?” she asks lightly.
“I wasn’t sure what the focus of the piece would be. I wanted to make sure it’s to scale.”
“That’s so helpful of you.”
“How about you? You in a helpful mood?”
There’s an edge to my voice that only I can hear. It’ll be dawn in a few hours. I don’t really know what happens then. But I’m almost desperate to feel her, everywhere, all at once. To not miss a thing or waste a minute—touch every fantasy. Because . . . this may be the only chance I’ve got.
She sets the pad of paper aside on the chair and comes to stand in front of me.
“I’m in the mood to make you feel good,” she says softly.
I rest my hands on her hips, pulling her to me, and press my forehead to her stomach.
“You already make me feel good,” I whisper hotly against her perfect skin.
Chelsea slides down to her knees in front of me. “Then let’s shoot for better than good.”
She leans forward, placing a warm kiss on the tip of my cock.
Oh Christ.
Her tongue peeks out, laving a circle around the head. And my heart goes berserk. She takes me in her mouth—hot and so wet. She slips down on me, as far as she can go, then slowly back up, making the shaft slick with her saliva. Then she grips me at the base, pumping firmly, while her mouth goes to work, sucking hard and fabulously. After a few minutes, I’m clenching my jaw, but can’t keep the low grunts at bay—Chelsea answers me with a pleasured hum that makes my balls ache. Then she releases me, looks up, takes my hand, and pushes it into her thick auburn locks.
“Show me what you like, Jake.”
Motherfucking god.
She goes back to working me over with her mouth, with her hand, her cheeks hollowing out. And it feels unreal. My hand flexes in her hair, guiding her up and down in my favorite rhythm. It makes me feel powerful . . . and at the same time completely at her mercy. The pressure builds, the blissful tension as her head bobs faster and I climb higher and higher.
With a guttural groan, I grip her hair and pull her off. “Get on the bed.” My voice is harsh. Desperate.
Chelsea climbs on beside me and I stand, yanking my shirt from her arms in one swift motion. Because it’s in my way—and I want to see. Everything. I hold her by the hips, my thumbs digging into the flesh of her perfect ass, conveying without words exactly how I want her.
On her hands and knees.
I get on my own knees, on the bed behind her. My fingers toy with her cunt, sliding and rubbing where she’s already wet. I line my straining dick up and plunge inside with a hard thrust.
Chelsea cries out, back arching, and I have to fucking remind myself to go easy. Short, shallow thrusts make her keen, and then she’s pushing back against me—wanting it harder. Deeper. My hand skims the smooth expanse of her back, tracing her spine down to her ass. I knead the flesh with rough hands, gripping, so I can move her forward and back along my cock. And the view—fuck—it’s beautiful. Watching my full length disappear into her tight heat, over and over, seeing the fine sheen that covers her skin, hearing her groan my name as her hair sways with every vigorous movement.
I’m close now—so close. The only thing holding me back is the need to watch her go first. I guide her down onto her stomach and cover her with my body, my chest and stomach against her back, my pelvis on her ass, thigh along thigh—not an inch of space between us. I kiss and suck on the silken skin of her neck as our bodies slide, warm and damp with sweat. My hips pump into her deep and fast. I wedge my hand beneath her, finding that magical, hard nub between her swollen lips, rubbing it with my fingers, giving it the friction it needs to make her scream. Chelsea’s hands fist the sheets above her head and her muscles clamp down on me as she comes.
“Jake!”
I think it’s her voice that pushes me over. With my mouth against her ear, I grunt and growl, thrusting forward one last time, as my vision goes white and the purest pleasure surges from my gut, spreading out to my fingers and the tips of my toes. Robbing me of the will to move, to think, to do anything but keep this gorgeous woman under me.