Suddenly His - Jessa Kane Page 0,39
a gorgeous man crackling with intelligence. More than his trademark blatant cockiness and intense energy. He is those things, but he’s vulnerable, too. Lonely. “You were never put in foster care?”
“Once. But I don’t remember it. I was an infant. The couple couldn’t get pregnant…until I showed up. After that, they wanted to focus on their own flesh and blood.”
Oh no, Jack. Essentially leaving him abandoned twice. Even if he doesn’t remember, the second incident could be imprinted on his psyche, quiet but malevolent.
“After that, some time passed. I was older and I think it was harder to place me—and I made it clear I wouldn’t play nice anywhere.”
“Of course you didn’t want to try again. I understand.” I lean up and kiss his chin, his mouth, lingering there with soft presses and sips of his lips. “This is why you reacted so badly to your business partner selling those shares. You had all that anger left over, ready to dish out. But anger doesn’t make you a bad person, especially when it had so long to grow, no love to keep it from snowballing. It’s your personal damage, Jack. Everyone has it. Some have it worse than others, but it’s always important. You’re important.”
He starts to say something but can’t seem to find the words, stroking my hair with an unsteady hand instead. “Maisy,” he breathes. “I don’t want to be successful out of spite anymore. It’s exhausting.”
Those words seem to drain him, all on their own and again, my heart protests his pain. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You just have to be Jack. You’re the success, not the million-dollar trades or the social status,” I whisper, moisture pressing against the backs of my eyes. “You must have felt very alone for a long time. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t you dare be sorry.” Jack pulls me closer, our kiss deepening. “I’m not alone right now,” he says gruffly, nuzzling my nose. “I have everything I need.”
You need love.
I come very close to saying it out loud. I’m not sure what holds me back except for the fact that everything is happening so fast. Can this breathless feeling inside of me really be love? My chest is packed tight, heart racing. Lying here in the waning sun with this man, I’ve never felt more secure. More anchored. And part of that comes from knowing I anchor him, too.
An intense urge to soothe Jack’s pain, reward him for opening up, be vulnerable for him, has me sliding off the side of the lounge chair onto my knees. His brow furrows, as if confused about why we’re not kissing anymore, but when I reach for the zipper of his pants, understanding dawns and he groans, the bulge behind his fly doubling in size.
“Ah Jesus, baby, I’ve dreamed of this. Day and night.” He helps me draw down his zipper and hands me his rigid inches in a shaking first. “All it needs is a little kiss and I’m going to lose it, Maisy, Maisy, please. Kiss it.”
“I’m going to do more than kiss it,” I whisper, pumping him in my grip.
“No.” The fingers of his left hand dig into the chair cushion, his right hand settling on the back of my head, his thighs jerking open in what seems like an involuntary spasm. “No.”
“Mmmhmm,” I hum, slowly drawing my tongue up the side of his thick stalk, then back down, watching his abdomen heave and shudder in response.
“Shit,” he hisses. I give the same slow treatment to the other side, performing on instinct, somehow knowing to saw the tip of my tongue back and forth in the slit at the top, my confidence building when Jack’s hips lift off the chair, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Fuck. Give that cock a home now, little girl. Bury it in that sexy mouth. Make me come.”
Urged on by his guttural speech, I swirl my tongue around the smooth head and carefully slide his stiffness into my mouth, watching for his reaction, wanting to make sure I’m doing it right. And I quickly learn there is no wrong way to do this. I knew a man’s sex was sensitive, but my tongue seems to heighten that sensitivity to another level, a mere flicker of my tongue making Jack suck in a breath or jerk his lower body. He’s salty and huge and male, the ridges of his arousal passing my lips faster and faster, eventually meeting my throat—and that’s when his