Jilted Jock - Rebecca Jenshak Page 0,69

up to me. Her pussy glistened. With two fingers I spread her lips and gently teased her with my tongue. She pushed into me silently asking for more.

I took my time, bringing her close to orgasm and then backing off until her frustration made her body hot and sensitive to every touch. Using her juices, I worked my fingers to the tight pucker of her ass.

“Finn,” she said my name like a warning but then added. “Please.”

“A dirty girl with manners.” I looked up to meet her needy gaze before dipping my head to taste her hole. I pushed my tongue in just the tiniest bit at first still working her pussy with two fingers.

Her moans came louder and more frequent and I added pressure and dove farther inside her until she cried out. “Finn. Oh God. Finn. I’m coming.”

Her body tightened and quivered underneath me before going limp. I kissed a path up her stomach and then rested my chin on her chest. “Didn’t even give me a chance to add syrup to your sweet ass.”

“Next time,” she panted. “Definitely next time.”

I stood and grabbed her hands to help ease her up and then off the counter. “Shower?”

She pressed her sticky body to mine and wrapped her arms around me tightly. I felt her nod, but she seemed reluctant to move. I placed my hand under her chin and tilted her face up. Tears leaked from her eyes and she silently sobbed. I panicked and my stomach dropped. I’d pushed and it’d been too much for her.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Was it too much? I got a little carried away.” A lot carried away and I wanted to do it all over and then fuck her tight ass.

“No.” She shook her head. “It was amazing.”

“What is it?” I was afraid of the direction her answer might go. There were so many reasons she might be freaking out. I’d bulldozed into her life, bought her thousands of dollars’ worth of shit she hadn’t asked for, professed my love, and then ate her ass… it’d been a day.

She tried to pull back but stuck to me.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

In the bathroom, I turned on the shower and took off my jeans and boxers. Her tears had slowed, but still fell down her cheeks. I didn’t press her to talk as we stepped under the spray. I grabbed her body wash and giant pink loofah and washed her. My dick strained and pulsed, but I kept my touches soft and purposeful.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” At least I didn’t think it was since I didn’t really know.

“After the rape, I chose partners that were… safe. Not intentionally, but I can see that now. Subconsciously I was probably protecting myself even though physically I was okay.”

I held my breath, afraid I’d do or say the wrong thing. Adele and I’d only talked about her past once before. I knew it was a big part of who she was now – those scars had changed her as all scars do.

I settled on asking, “Safe how?”

“Men who were perfectly happy with missionary sex once a week and maybe a blow job on holidays to spice things up.”

My mouth quirked up at the way she said it, like it was the worst thing she could imagine.

“Why?”

She ran her fingers absently over my chest and down my abs. “I craved the stability and the safety of those types of men. But for them, knowing about the rape, I think they were afraid of hurting me – of bringing back those memories. But instead it was like a constant reminder every time I had sex, that I was so broken they had to be careful with me.”

“If you need me to be a safe guy… I will be that for you. I can think of all kinds of ways to spice up missionary and leave you walking funny the whole week until I get to have you again.”

She laughed and lifted up on her toes to brush her wet lips against mine. “You couldn’t be safe if you tried.”

I swallowed down a lump wondering if that meant I could never be what she needed.

“No one has ever made me feel less broken than you. Thank you.”

I swallowed down the lump that had lodged in my throat. “You’re welcome.”

I spent the next hour proving to her just how perfectly unbroken she was, and