I nearly come as the kiss of air touches the smooth skin of my pussy. “Please, Jennings,” I moan.
“Damn boots,” he mutters, twisting away to yank off one of the things impeding him from getting me completely naked. Glaring at the offending objects, he hurls them across the room. I hear a crash and giggle softly. Jennings pauses in the process of reaching for his own laces. “I love the sound of that,” he whispers.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Your laugh.”
I contemplate him sitting at the edge of the bed. My pants are halfway down my thighs. His boots are about to meet the same fate as mine. “Is now when you want to talk about it?” I demand.
He shakes his head. Toeing off his own boots and socks, he stands and reaches for his wallet. Tossing it onto the nightstand, he mutters, “But we will,” before he shucks his own jeans and boxers to the floor.
Thick and iron hard, his cock springs out at me, begging for my touch. Immediately I reach for it only to be denied when Jennings starts shaking me out of my jeans. “Damn you,” I growl. As soon as I’m freed from the offending garments, I try to scramble to my knees.
He pushes me to my back. “I swear to God, if I don’t taste you in the next minute…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead he presses my legs out and rubs his fingers in circles against my clit. He lets them dance for a few seconds before sliding them lower—and before his lips replace his fingers on the tight bud.
My fingers find his hair. “Oh, God.” My head falls back. My hips arch against his mouth as his fingers slide into me simultaneously. “Jennings.” I don’t know if his name is a cry for mercy, for relief, or for more. It might be all three. My hips rock against his mouth over and over, juices dripping.
I’m on the verge of begging. His fingers plunge inside of me as his beard abrades me, leaving delicate scratches that only enhance my arousal.
I lift my head to find him watching me, and just then he curls his fingers, reaching for a spot that makes my neck snap back in rapture. “Jennings,” I moan just as the walls of my vagina clamp down over and over.
He surges up until he’s lying on top of me. His lips meet mine, and I taste myself on him. I smell the essence of what he did, and my heart trembles. Jennings isn’t done as he lets me ride out the aftershocks with his long fingers still pulsating inside of me to drag out my orgasm.
Then he snarls a word that makes my body tremble from head to toe. “Mine.”
Rolling off me for a moment, he fumbles for his wallet. Fishing out a condom, he makes quick work of rolling it on. In the meanwhile, I recover some of my wits about me to scramble to my knees, and just as he’s done, I shove him to his back.
I straddle him, moving until he’s pressed his cock against my opening. His hands are gripping my hips tightly, rubbing my hips back and forth over his cock, preparing us both for him to slide inside. After a few moments, I demand, “Now.”
Jennings loosens his grip, and I slide down to take him. The feeling of being stretched by him in this position almost makes me come immediately. Only the knowledge I want to drag him over the edge with me keeps me from flying again on my own. Sliding my fingers up his stomach, I reach down and pinch his nipples, which makes him throw back his head against the pillows. His hands slide from my hips to cup my breasts, and I let out a long moan.
We’re both panting when I start to rock my hips back and forth, each and every movement brushing my clit against his pelvic bone. His grunts and the tightness of his thighs beneath my ass telling me he’s as affected by what we’re doing as I am. I slowly pick up the pace. “Jennings.” I can barely get his name out.
Our hips rock together frantically. He rears up to clasp my head as he captures my lips, still thrusting up into me hard even as his tongue licks and strokes inside my mouth. Tearing his mouth away, he snarls, “Kara, get there.”