looked down at him with a gasp. Instead of pressing his mouth back on her, he continued to look at her as he pumped his fingers in and out. Their eyes locked. He felt her thighs begin to tremble and the walls of her pussy tighten around his fingers, and he couldn’t look away from her eyes.
“Oh, God!” she cried as she shut her eyes once more and pressed her head back. He took that opportunity to bring her over the edge by putting his mouth back on her clit and sucking hard, drawing her orgasm out of her until he felt her legs start to give way.
“I got you,” he said while cradling her in his arms.
“Good, ’cause I can’t walk,” she moaned dreamily. “Sugar, if your definition of letting loose is to give me orgasms and talk dirty to me, I’ll take it.”
He chuckled, turned off the water, and carried her out of the bath. He sat her limp body on the counter, draping a towel around her. He dried himself as quickly as possible, popped his contact lenses out of his eyes and dumped them in the trash, and slipped on a spare pair of glasses he kept on the counter
“Nice,” she said.
“Nice? You like the glasses?”
“I kind of do.” She smiled and straightened them. “Sexy.”
He finished drying her, then tossed the wet towels in the hamper and carried her to his bed. “Didn’t think we’d ever make it onto an actual bed.”
She hummed into his chest. “That was so good. Had I known you could rock sex like that, I’d have gone out with you sooner.”
He pushed slightly away so he could see her face. “You thought I’d be bad in bed?” He put his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“Well, the suits, the hair, the glasses…”
“If someone shouldn’t be judging a book by its cover, Ms. Tattoos, it’s you.”
She cringed. “I know. I know. Sorry. How can I make it up to you?”
“Well, for starters”—he lifted her by the waist to straddle him—“you can tell me just how much I rock in bed and how turned on I make you.”
She reached for his face and took off his glasses, carefully placing them on the bedside table. “Will you be able to see anything?” she asked sincerely.
He squeezed her waist. “I know where everything is. I don’t need to see,” he said wryly.
She leaned down and kissed his chest, running her fingers through the small feathering of hair. “I’m not on the pill.”
He wasn’t used to having these kinds of conversations. Admittedly, all the women he’d been with were very refined, and topics such as birth control weren’t the usual things discussed. If it was just a casual relationship, he’d simply put on a condom. These kinds of conversations always seemed to be crass for some reason. But with Jamie Lynn and the intimacy they’d shared and the day they’d spent together, it seemed natural and honest, and he felt completely at ease for the first time in his life.
“I have condoms in my nightstand.” He reached over and grabbed one.
She flicked her tongue on his nipple as he rolled it on, making his dick harder than it had been just a moment before. Still kissing his nipple, she took him in her hand and pumped it up and down a few times.
“Jamie Lynn, sweetheart…” He was about to tell her that if she didn’t fuck him soon, he was going to either come in her hand or flip her over and fuck her senseless, but the minx shifted up, positioned herself over his cock, and slowly lowered herself down. He flung himself back on the mattress moaning, reveling in the feel of her. She was so warm and tight against his throbbing dick.
Her hands were now on his chest and instead of moving her body up and down, she swiveled her hips in a circle. “You feel good, darlin’,” she said with her eyes closed, lost in her own pleasure. He’d already noticed that her southern drawl was thicker when she was in the throes of ecstasy. “Tell me what you want.” She continued to swirl her hips. “Talk to me. Tell me.”
The woman wanted dirty talk. It was what got her off, and he’d give it to her—he’d be someone else tonight. Actually, he realized in a flash, he wasn’t being someone else. He was being himself—only it was the part of himself he never allowed out.