Rock Me Faster (Licks of Leather #4) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,93

cinched a fist in my hair and held me there, silently commanding me to keep licking, flicking, and sucking.

While skimming kisses across his wide chest to pay homage to his other nipple, I glanced down at our hands, now moving so rapidly they were practically a blur. The hope that one day—soon—his glorious shaft would be spearing me with the same manic rhythm caused my clit to start aching again. Spreading my legs, I repositioned my hips and whimpered as his engorged tip drummed against my greedy nub.

With a strangled moan, Ross moved his hand from my hip and gripped one cheek of my butt before pulling me closer. Flames licked up my spine as his hot, slick tip pierced my folds and battered my clit.

“Jesus,” he panted. “I want inside you so fucking bad…want to feel your sweet virgin cunt gripping my dick and claim your precious hymen.”

The passion in his hungry growl, the images now erupting in my brain, and the relentless stroke of his crest sent me sailing toward the heavens all over again.

Fire whipped through me as Ross’s hand, surrounding mine, jerked to a halt before he squeezed my fingers tightly around him. I felt him expand and pulse in my hand as he threw back his head and roared my name.

Thick streams of hot liquid jettisoned over my clit.

Inundated with the euphoria coalescing off him and the bliss unfurling inside me, I wailed Ross’s name as I shattered with him.

Panting wildly, he slid his arm around my waist and pulled me tightly against him before slapping a palm flat against the wall. He supported us both for long minutes until our breathing evened out. But even then, my body was still quivering and trembling in aftershocks.

“We need to do a whole lot more of that.” Ross smirked.

“Say the word and I’ll give you another private performance any time you want.” I grinned, tossing out the words he’d said to me backstage.

After a decadent dinner of bacon-wrapped scallops—that would forever take the top spot in my book of favorite foods—on the terrace, Ross climbed into bed beside me.

I languidly woke in his heavenly arms, the next morning, and we ate a leisurely breakfast in bed, then packed our suitcases. Ross helped me into another lavish limo before we boarded a private jet to Chicago.

When we landed, we were whisked away in yet another limo. Ross called Angie to let her know we were headed her way and to prepare a guest room for Bernie.

Like ants, anxiety marched beneath my skin.

As if sensing my unease, Ross threaded his fingers through mine and sent me a crooked smile. “Stop worrying. I was never in love with Angie. Ever.”

“But you had sex with her.”

The words had barely left my lips when I felt Ross’s walls close up around him again. My heart sank. How many more ghosts were hiding in his closet? Refusing to let him shut me out after we’d come so far, I lifted my chin and arched a brow.

“If I’m not allowed to keep secrets, then neither are you.”

At first, Ross was visibly taken aback by my challenge, then slowly nodded, and I blessedly felt his walls fall away once more.

“You’re right. No more secrets.” He squeezed my hand and stared off into space. “Lily’s death and becoming addicted to cocaine messed me up really bad. My entire world, my whole identity had always centered around control. Control of my career, my finances, but mostly total control in the bedroom. One day, I’ll introduce you to that dynamic if and when you’re ready.”

A kaleidoscope of questions turned in my brain, but I simply nodded. I didn’t want to sidetrack whatever Ross needed to say.

“I left rehab assuming that I would come home and resume my Dominant lifestyle again. But I couldn’t shake the fear of losing control…of hurting another woman. I stopped having sex. When jacking off didn’t ease my frustration, I started drinking…a lot. I’m not a nice drunk. After several months, Angie had reached her limit. She poured all the booze in the house down the drain, sat me down, and told me she was going to send me back to rehab if I didn’t start talking.

“So, I did. I told her everything, spilled it all out at her feet. When she offered her body to ease my pent-up frustration, I told her no. That I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt her. Since she knew about my need for