The Will (Magdalene #1)(78)
Author: Kristen Ashley

He didn’t look at me.

I slowly stood and turned as he prowled down the aisle and disappeared at the back of the arena.

Not thinking, not me, or not the me I’d made myself be, I bent and snatched up my coat.

I then moved.

Swiftly, I walked up the aisle. At the top, I looked right, then left and saw a burly man wearing a bright yellow polo shirt with the black word “security” printed boldly over his heart.

I moved quickly to him.

I was unable to get a word in when, his eyes going top to toe, he asked, “Who d’you belong to, gorgeous?”

His eyes came to mine and I stated, “Jake.”

He grinned and stepped aside. When he did, I saw a door behind him. I pushed the bar and went through, hearing him continue to speak as I did.

“Left at the hall, first door to the right.”

The door closed behind me as I practically ran down the hall, turned left and went immediately through the first door on the right.

I saw lockers. A trash bin. A table that looked like a medical table in the middle. A big, workout bag on it, gaping open, Jake’s boxing gloves resting on top. The man that accompanied Jake to the ring.

And Jake, sitting on the table, the man before him, but his eyes cut immediately to me.

I opened my mouth but again was able to say nothing when Jake commanded, his one word like a whiplash, “Out.”

Somehow, I knew he wasn’t talking to me.

I was right. I vaguely noticed the man look to me and back to Jake before he dropped his head, grinned at his shoes and did as ordered.

Jake jumped off the table and moved with him instantly. With both of them coming in my direction, automatically I shifted out of their way, moving further into the room.

I turned back to Jake to see him lock the door.

I knew why I was there and I didn’t. I was scared and I wasn’t. I didn’t feel right and I did. I didn’t know what to do but I still knew what I had to do.

I wasn’t me.

Yet I was.

I opened my mouth to speak, not knowing what I was going to say but knowing I was going to say it.

I again didn’t get the chance.

“You goin’ out with Mick tomorrow night?” Jake growled, his eyes burning into me, his fury saturating the room.

“Not anymore,” I whispered immediately.

“Good f**kin’ answer, Slick,” he rapped out, each word hitting me like a blow at the same time they felt like a caress.

I stood unmoving, locked in place by his scowl, my heart beating hard, my breath coming funny, my sex drenched and pulsing.

Then he moved.

Right to me.

I didn’t. Not a muscle.

So when he hit me, taped hands to my hips, I staggered back on a thin heel and dropped my purse and coat.

But Jake was not going to let me fall. I knew this when he kept going, I kept staggering back, and his fingers clenched into my skirt.

My back hit wall and my skirt hit my waist a half a second before Jake’s body hit mine.

“Panties off, Josie,” he ordered, his voice rough and commanding, and it was good I was against the wall for the quiver his words sent through my legs was so powerful, if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to remain standing.

I licked my lips, my sex throbbing so deeply I felt it shudder down my inner thighs and straight up to my throat as I carried out his command. I avoided his hands still clenched in my skirt to hook my thumbs into my panties and I tugged them down.

They slid over my shoes when Jake’s hands came to my bottom and hefted me up.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms around his shoulders and tipped my head back just as Jake’s came down, his mouth slamming into mine.

I opened my lips, which was good because Jake’s tongue was already thrusting in.

When I finally tasted him, that deep need I’d had for what seemed ages finally assuaged, his taste so beautiful, so Jake, I whimpered down his throat. My limbs clenching around him, he kissed me brutally and pressed his h*ps between my legs.

Feeling him hard, the satin of his trunks soft and me so sensitive, I lifted a hand and clutched it in his short hair as best I could and pressed into him as hard as I was able.

His hand left my behind and it was between us. I felt it move then it was back at my bottom, tipping my h*ps and suddenly he was in. Deep in. Slamming inside me, filling me repeatedly, violently, splendidly, magnificently as he grunted into my mouth and I held on tight for the ride, moaning into his.

Suddenly, I was pulled away from the wall and Jake stayed inside me as he moved us to the table and bent us over it. My back hit the table and Jake continued thrusting, drilling, taking me rough and hard in a locker room at an arena.

And I welcomed every stroke, gasping, whimpering, moaning, clutching with my arms and legs and fingers and sex, any way I could hold him to me, take him inside me, urge him to give me more.

He did. One hand going between us, his thumb moved hard over my aching, wet, sensitized cl*t and I cried out, at first in his mouth then I yanked my lips free, turned my head to the side and kept doing it while I came, fast, hard, long, the orgasm ripping through me and if I hadn’t already shed my skin, that would have shredded me and I would have been born anew.

Jake’s hand moved from between us and both of them slid up my inner thighs, the tape wrapping his hands coarse against my soft skin. He caught me behind the knees and yanked my legs high as he lifted his torso away and captured my gaze, his blazing, his eyes a remarkable midnight blue, his handsome face nearly savage with passion.

He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.

And he kept taking me, pounding between my legs and it was arguable but this might have felt better than the time before and even during orgasm. Being in the moment, not lost to it, feeling every stroke, every inch, the power of his body, his fingers clamped tight around the delicate skin behind my knees, his grunts filling the room.

Then it happened. He drove in one last time, the entire table moved several inches and his head snapped back, the corded column of his throat exposed to me, veins standing out in his neck, his groan of release was loud and so unbelievably gratifying, it felt like I’d moved not a mountain but an entire range.

The Rockies.

The Himalayas.

The Andes.

All three.

His head dropped, his neck bent deep so I had a view to the back of it and his fingers clutched the backs of my knees as his h*ps powered out and in for one last glorious thrust that felt divine.

Finally, he stayed embedded.

He didn’t move.

I didn’t either.

Moments passed.

Suddenly, the effect of the last twenty minutes started reversing. Something was coating my skin. Covering me. Smothering me.