Jake (California Dreamy) - By Rian Kelley Page 0,35

He needed to do it now. So he laid an arm over her chest, pinning her to the mattress, held her shoulder gently in his hand, and used his other to peel the silky material away from her body.

“Sweet Jesus.” His voice was barely a whisper, broken by the intensity of his feelings. “You are beautiful.”

She had a triangle of downy curls, a modest and final covering of her sex. Jake buried his face there, inhaled deeply, and searched for her sweet spot with his tongue. He lifted her thigh to open her and he felt her hand in his hair, her smooth thighs move against his cheeks, and quickly tumbled into her essence. She was wet from wanting him and he lapped it up. He teased her clit and heard her call out. He stroked deeply into her folds, savored her taste on his tongue, delved again for more. But still it wasn’t enough. He released her and slid his hands under her bottom, lifted her firmly against his mouth. He flicked his tongue against her clitoris, suckled it, lapped at the juice his work produced. She trembled with her need to come, bowed against him as though she would snap in two, and finally, enthusiastically, bathed him in her passion as she climaxed.

He stroked her again. And again. Loving the taste of her, wanting her orgasm to be complete. And when he shifted back on his heels and looked at her, he felt his cock jerk and begin to drip his seed.

Never. He’d never been so moved, so connected to another woman. No one had ever mattered so much to him. He watched her chest rise and fall in an agitated rhythm, her eyelids flicker. She lifted her hands and captured her breasts. She squeezed them, maybe to alleviate the last bit of tension, or to stretch out her pleasure. He wasn’t sure. But he could take no more. He took his cock in hand and came in a burst of pure bliss as he watched her fondle her body.

Ivy surfaced slowly. Her dazed and dizzying world settled to a soft rocking, but her body continued to buzz. Mercy, Jake had stoked her need until relief was an excruciating joy. He had been so deeply into her, the memory made her skin heat. Made her core ache. Her climax had been blinding. She had glimpsed him between her legs, thoroughly intent on driving her crazy. She had never known such single-minded determination or its sweet reward. Her lips curled with the memory of it. She was so completely satisfied and felt a peace she’d never known existed. And she hadn’t even had him inside her yet.

Not inside her. She had gotten so carried away by her own pleasure, she had forgotten about Jake. Well, she hadn’t forgotten him. Impossible. But she hadn’t pleasured him.

Her eyes snapped open. She stared at the ceiling, at an angel as her legs were still draped over the side of the bed.

“Jake?”

“Right here.”

She lifted her head and watched him approach from the bathroom, a wet cloth in his hand. He stopped before her and stared at her with a sweet intensity.

“You are amazing, Ivy Warner,” he said.

He was naked. His body flushed, but he was no longer engorged.

“But I didn’t—“

“You did.” He crouched before her. “I’m sorry. I got a little messy.”

His semen was dripping down the inside of her thigh and he wiped it up with long strokes of the warm cloth.

“How?” she asked, watching his tender ministrations. “I mean, I didn’t get a chance to even touch you.”

“You touched me all right.”

He brought the cloth up and nudged her thighs further apart. Then he touched her where his mouth had been. She was sticky and he wiped away her discomfort, but his touch on her sensitive hood was exquisite torture. She heard her breath hitch. Watched his skin flush and the flame in his eyes leap.

Ivy sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. She was no longer edgy with need, which meant she could take her time and enjoy Jake. She placed her fingertips on his forearms and allowed them to drift over the corded muscle, dip into the wells of definition on his biceps and shoulders.

“I thought you might have a tattoo.”

“It’s a small one.”

Over his heart, Semper Fi.

She opened her mouth over it

“The Corps saved my life,” he said.

“You were a wayward teen.” She traced the letters with her tongue and then dipped lower and laved

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