Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,46

up like it’s a dollop of whipped cream. His hips thrust to meet my lips and I grin as I practically swallow him whole.

“Fuck, Bianca,” he groans as he pumps in and out of my mouth. His pace is almost steady, but his breathing is labored, proving that he isn’t as immune to my ministrations as he’d like to be.

But he doesn’t get it. This is the only place where I am in control. Where I know what I’m doing. Where I’m confident. Because my life might be spiraling out of control right now, but I’ve mastered sex, and I know exactly how to pleasure a man.

I’ve just never enjoyed it until this moment.

“Bianca, stop,” he begs, dragging his fingers along my scalp before forcing me to stop sucking him off. With a pop, I let him go and look up at him.

“There a problem?”

“I’m going to come.”

I smirk. “And that’s a problem?”

He pushes me onto my back again, rolling me onto the grass before caging me in with his strong forearms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like talking.”

His chest brushes against mine as he grinds against me. Only the flimsy lace fabric of my thong keeps him from entering me with a single thrust, but it’s his words that penetrate deeper than his erection ever could.

“You think I don’t know you, Bianca, but I do. You deflect any time I ask you something personal. You hide your true self from everyone you ever meet. And you use sex as a way to either distract men or to get what you want from them. But it won’t work with me. Because I don’t want to use you.”

“Then what do you want?” I whisper.

“I’ve already told you.”

“An orgasm?” I offer sarcastically.

“No. The real you.”

Then he kisses me again before shifting his weight to his left arm while his right disappears beneath the fabric of my dress. Shoving aside my underwear, he glides his finger between my folds, and I gasp as it brushes against my clit before squeezing my eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

This is too much. It’s too real. Too genuine.

But he doesn’t stop his movements. Instead he picks up his pace, and I squirm beneath him, my hips meeting his calloused hands as he brings me closer and closer to oblivion.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

So this is what it’s supposed to be like.

Curling my toes, I fall apart, and dig my teeth into my lower lip as I fight back the moan that’s caught in the back of my throat.

But it’s no use. It slips out of me. Low and breathy before Jack’s fingers disappear and are replaced with the head of his cock. Apparently, this guy got an A+ in his interrogation class because the guy is torturing me.

Torturing. Me.

Squirming beneath him, I silently beg him to put me out of my misery. The bastard laughs. He presses himself against my slick center, rubbing his cock up and down my entrance a few times as I come back down from the rush of my orgasm before it builds right back up again. My nails dig into his lower back through his button-up shirt as I hook my ankles around his waist. Waiting for him to stretch me. To finally connect with me physically the same way he’s managed to connect with me emotionally over the past few weeks.

When he doesn’t push himself inside me, I peek one eye open and find Jack staring down at me. He’s waiting for permission. A silent question is on the tip of his tongue that no one has ever bothered to ask me. Blinking away the tears that gather in my eyes at the realization, I nod once before lifting my head to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Then he pushes himself inside of me. And the always elusive orgasm begins its second ascent.

How? How is this even possible?

His back is sweaty as I slip my hands beneath his shirt and feel his muscles bunch and flex beneath my fingertips. There’s so much power in him. Not just physically, but spiritually too.

He could get through anything. Hell, he could move mountains if he wanted to. And in a way, he already has. Because I don’t do this. I don’t like men. I don’t like sex.

But I like Jack.

I like him so much that it’s starting to terrify me. And I haven’t allowed myself to feel fear since I was a little girl.

I can’t help it with him, though. Just like I