The Billion Dollar Bachelor(14)

She let out a sharp breath, her head hanging down. She was shivering and yet when he let his hand curve over one buttock, she pushed into it. He reached further down, caressing her thighs, indulging himself in the feel of her skin before sliding a hand between, stroking the soft, wet folds of her sex.

Snow whimpered, trembling even more, and the last tie on his self-control snapped.

Ah, God, but he loved hearing that sound, but he wanted to see her face. Wanted to watch what he did to her.

Leaning forward, Jax collected the silk of her hair into his fist, then wound it around his wrist, drawing her head up and back, exposing her neck. She gave a soft moan, her breathing coming even faster. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, and he could see the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat.

Perfect. She was perfect.

He watched her face as he positioned himself and kept watching as he thrust deep and hard inside her.

She cried out, the angle he was holding her head at making it easy for him to see the bright flash of pain that crossed her face.

Wait. Pain?

This is what happens when you lose it, asshole. Someone always gets hurt.

He forced the thought away, going still and trying to ignore the hot clasp of her body around his cock. “What’s wrong?” he demanded roughly. “Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes stayed tightly closed, her breath coming in short, hard pants. She didn’t speak, just shook her head in a sharp negative. Then she pushed back on him, forcing him deeper and his mind went blank.

Christ, she felt insanely good. So tight and hot and wet. He struggled to keep himself together. “Are you sure?”

A sharp nod this time, a slow undulation of her hips and he was gone. So gone.

He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back further, and began to move, hard and fast and deep. She moaned, moving with him, and this time it wasn’t pain on her face but pleasure, her cheeks flushed, her mouth full and red.

He couldn’t tear his eyes off her. Didn’t want to. He wanted to see everything, hear everything, because he never had before. Never taken a woman like this. Never made her pant and gasp like this.

“Let me hear it, Snow,” he said, his voice guttural and raw, a stranger’s voice. “Let me hear what I’m doing to you.”

Her mouth opened, another long, low moan coming out. “Oh … please … . Oh … God … please … ”

He slid his free hand around and between her thighs again, stroking the hard bud of her clit as he moved inside her, driving them both on toward the edge of insanity.

“Now,” he growled. “Come for me, Snow,” and she did, a hoarse scream coming from her as he let her go. Then he followed, keeping his gaze on her flushed face, aware of one thing and one thing only as the orgasm squeezed him tight, then pulled him apart.

She was his now. And he didn’t want to let her go.

*

Pandora opened her eyes, her cheek pressed to the cool leather of the couch. Tremors shook her, little aftershocks of pleasure like the land shifting after a major earthquake. She couldn’t seem to get her mind working, her brain totally turned to mush. Vaguely she was aware that the position she was in wasn’t the most comfortable but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to move. She may not ever have had sex—if you didn’t count the cybersex and she didn’t—but she’d brought herself pleasure before. Yet the lonely orgasms she’d given herself had never been anything like the one she’d just had.

Like the difference between a fine drizzle and a raging thunderstorm.

Think you can definitely say good-bye to your virginity.

Oh yeah, pretty much. She’d been terrified she’d given herself away after flinching so badly when he’d first entered her. He’d stopped and she’d appreciated that, needing the time to adjust to the unfamiliarity of having him inside her. When he’d resumed it had hurt but the pain had gradually receded, leaving nothing but pleasure in its place. So much pleasure.

She’d pushed him and he’d lost it, and that made her feel … so fucking powerful. Even though he’d been the one to push her down, grab her hair and pull her head back, told her when to come, she’d still felt like she was in charge. Like she could make him do whatever she wanted. God, there was so much freedom in that.

It made her want more.

Someone touched her, gentle hands stroking her thighs. Someone … him.

She couldn’t stop shivering, so oversensitive the slightest touch felt almost too much.

His hands slid around her front, his arms coming around her, pulling her up from the couch and back against him, holding her there.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was dark and rough in her ear and she closed her eyes again, relaxing against the hard warmth of him at her back. “Yeah,” she said thickly. “That was … amazing.”