The Lover’s Promise (No Exceptions #3)(36)
Author: J.C. Reed

“I have many needs,” I said, pushing the dark thoughts to the back of my mind. “You don’t know half of them.”

“Then I’d better make sure to find all of them and fulfill them one by one.” He grinned as he dipped one long finger slowly into my wet sex. His eyes locked on me as he spun his finger, pulling it out slowly, the motion making me wetter and hotter before he sucked it into his mouth. “Tasty.” He grinned. “Now don’t even pretend you don’t enjoy this. You’re into this…a lot.”

Damn. He was good.

Inside, I was wet and ready for him.

I wasn’t just into this. I was into him.

My head was throbbing. My legs were trembling. And my heart was racing at the way he kept looking at me with that dangerous glint in his eyes. As his thumb kept rubbing my clit, my pulse spiked and heat rushed to my cheeks.

“I’m more than just into this, Jett,” I whispered, thinking of the crime scene evidence I had hidden in the car. Of all the things I had done for him, without having any answers. His face flickered with amusement. I wasn’t sure he heard me or the seriousness in my tone.

Jett leaned forward and kissed me deeply, so tender that there was no way to say whose air I breathed. Was it mine or his? Was it air intermingled? Or was my passion the product of us two?

It struck me that I wanted him to leave his mark on me, something I could always treasure. If his kiss could have burned me then I would have wanted him to kiss me harder. More fiercely, until the feeling lasted for all eternity.

His hands caressed my shoulders, moving lower and between my legs again, brushing them apart. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch, his breath on my face, the warmth of his body.

I should have seen it coming, but it still took me by surprise when he entered me. It was slow and tender as he pushed inside my core, into my being. His gaze looked at me with a depth that equaled the way he penetrated me—demanding, possessive—just the way I needed it. Maybe it was the gentleness of a usually primitive act, or that there was nothing dirty in it, but it felt right, like two beings trapped in a cocoon. With the heat flooding over my body, I let out a deep moan, and lifted my hips against his in need for more, closing my eyes to enjoy the moment.

“Look at me,” Jett whispered. His voice sounded hoarse and I opened my eyes, my breath coming heavy. My heart skipped a beat as I peered into his green eyes and noticed that his mouth had softened as his thick shaft moved inside me, stretching me, filling every last corner. And yet something felt different.

“Do you love me?” he asked at last.

I drew a long breath. Here I was, in the middle of an argument, lying on the mat, with him moving inside me, and he was asking if I loved him.

I swallowed hard. How was I supposed to answer that? With my body so exposed and open for him I was barely able to think straight as every slow thrust sent a new wave of pleasure through me, announcing my imminent release. My hands grabbed his shoulders, my fingers dug into his skin. That was the only answer I could give him.

Anytime now the thrusts would send me over the edge. As though sensing my impending orgasm, Jett replaced his slow thrust with even slower moves—painfully slow moves that sent the whole room spinning and my insides clenching for more. My breath was barely more than a shudder. I could feel every rub, every motion, every drop of moisture of him inside me. He pulled out, only to push in deeper, his thrust hitting my core. His eyes never left mine as he continued to slowly thrust inside me, his body moving against me. I moaned, shifting my hips to let him slide in just a little bit deeper.  Hot waves of fire shook my abdomen as he impaled my flesh and I lifted my hips to give him deeper access when he suddenly pulled out again, only to let the slick head of his erection nudge my entrance. Ever so slowly he plunged in and stopped until I could feel nothing but him pulsating inside me, waiting…waiting for what?

Right. For my answer.

“What kind of stupid question is that?” I asked.

“Just be honest.”

“It’s not like you are.”

“Well, I try to be.” He moistened his lips. His beautiful kissable seductive lips. I swallowed, both intimidated by the question and the rising need inside me. “If I love you?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

His intent gaze landed on me again and for a few seconds there was silence between us. At last, he stirred again,

“Do you, Brooke?” he probed. “Do you love me?”

I looked up. His eyes peered intently at me, waiting, watching. Doubting. It felt as though the question was different. It felt anxious. Careful. Uncertain. Almost as if he had started to believe my lies at some point.

All those years I had the unprecedented and unspoken belief that even the most sparkling stone of a relationship would become dull. Not so with Jett. He was a multi-faceted diamond that blinded me with its brilliance and hardness. And right now, he was cutting me into the core, his eyes resting on me, and his hardness teasing me mercilessly by staying lodged deep inside me without moving. I quivered beneath him, my body pleading for more.

“I do,” I whispered. “Sadly. Maybe even too much.”

“Then tell me you’re mine.”

“You’re killing me,” I whispered, feeling like I was about to cry from sheer pleasure. “Can’t it wait until later?”

He grinned. “That’s just the start of the punishment I’m about to give you.” Wedging himself between my knees and lifting my legs a little higher, he forced his shaft deeper inside me, filling every inch so slowly I felt like helping myself to get the release I so desperately craved.

Damn.

I should have seen it coming. He was going to make me beg and plead. He was going to torture by filling me, impaling me, building up my orgasm without letting me come. A stroke of passion rushed up my spine like lightening.

Damn him.

I was so damn near and yet he stalled.

He carried a weapon more dangerous than a gun. And right now this weapon stretched me, giving me the feeling of being invaded. Now I understood what La petite mort meant. If Jett kept going like this, I would experience the little death and it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Jett, please. Don’t make me plead.”

His lips twitched. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

His erection plunged another inch into me, building a bigger, growing momentum until I felt I might just be about to pass out.

“Say you’re mine, Brooke.” His hands grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head until I could do nothing but look at him. His breath brushed my mouth, stealing my air, my oxygen, my soul. There was no him and me, only two hearts.