Chapter 3
“You want the last strawberry?” Without thinking, she popped it whole into her mouth.
She froze before biting down, realizing her faux pas.
Amusement played over his face, and he gave her a wicked smile. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
He was having way too much fun at her expense. Straightening her spine, she stared him in the eyes and pushed the berry out with the tip of her tongue. She raised her brows with a come-and-get-it look.
Disbelief flickered across his face, giving her a burst of satisfaction. Seconds later a wave of lust replaced it, and his eyes pinned her with a promise of paradise.
“With pleasure.” He leaned in slowly and bit off the tip of the berry, brushing his lips softly across hers. After swallowing the small piece, he ran his tongue gently along the bottom of her lip, capturing a small bead of juice. He tasted of strawberries, desire, and sin.
The erotic playfulness of his mouth was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced while fully clothed, heck, maybe even naked.
“That was one hell of a sweet strawberry,” he hummed, running a thumb along her bottom lip.
She swallowed the fruit and resisted the urge to suck his finger into her mouth. “Maybe it wasn’t the berry,” she said, with surprising boldness, relishing the way he fixated on her mouth.
“Maybe not.” His voice was laden with desire. “I’ll need another taste to be sure.”
He leaned in, pressing his lips tentatively as if waiting for her to pull away. When she didn’t, he explored her mouth with a little more heat. His tongue brushed against hers, like the sweep of a match before tossed in a can of gasoline and just as hot.
She grasped his shoulders then ran a hand to the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair. His hand traveled up her thigh while he ravished her mouth with delicious expertise; the myriad of sensations was exquisite. The brush of his lips and the scrape of his rough stubble against her sensitive skin sent a coil of need between her legs. He made her simultaneously melt and ignite with need.
His hands snaked around her waist. “Come here,” he rumbled.
The desire in his voice matched her own, and it didn’t even occur to her to resist. She moved to sit sidelong on his lap.
Maybe later she’d regret her impulsiveness. Right now, all she wanted was to lose herself in the warmth of his muscular body and sensual touch.
Her hands returned to his hair, and this time she dug her fingers around the thick locks and tugged him closer. A deep moan escaped him, thrilling her to the core and emboldening her.
Breaking the kiss, she slid off his chair and stood on shaky legs. His fingers gripped her waist, urging her back toward him. Straddling him, her dress slipped farther up her thighs. He ran his calloused hands around and cupped her lace-covered bottom. She couldn’t resist rocking against him.
“Greta…you’re killing me,” he growled against her mouth.
He gathered the material of her dress in his hands and skated it up her body. They separated long enough for him to pull it off. Tossing it to the floor, he cupped her breasts and ran his tongue over the tops of them, sending shivers of ecstasy throughout her body.
Needing more contact with his skin, she tugged at the hem of his shirt. He took the hint and leaned back, yanking it off. His naked torso was a sight to behold. Even the tattoo covering most of his upper left chest and shoulder was appealing.
She ached to touch him everywhere, to run her tongue along every inch of him. She settled on running her fingers lightly along the design of an intricate Raven, beak starting at his collarbone and the body moving to his chest.
As she traced along the wings to a broken clock on his bicep, she murmured, “Why a Raven?”
He didn’t answer, and Greta glanced at his face. His concentration riveted to the trail her fingers were making. Maybe he sensed her gaze because he looked into her eyes and gave a small shake of his head.
“They represent renewal, reflection, heal--” His words cut off when her fingertips circled one of his nipples. He sucked in a sharp breath then captured her lips in a kiss so hot she swore her blood might set fire. He ran his mouth along her jaw to her neck, not stopping until he reached her breasts.
He pushed down her white lace bra, placing his mouth on her nipple and breast. Using his lips and tongue, he teased and tasted her, bringing her close to climax. The part of her that could think was amazed. Orgasms were few and far between for her, and to be teetering on the edge of one when he hadn’t even touched her below the waist was a miracle.
“Fuck, you taste good. I want to lick and taste you everywhere, not just your breasts but your arms, your stomach, your thighs…between your thighs,” he rasped against her flesh, never stopping his heavenly assault.
His explicit talk should shock her, be a turn-off. Instead, she loved as much as his touch. She tried to slip her hand between them, to his slacks but was distracted when his mouth trailed back her neck and bit. The pressure was perfect, a little pain and so much pleasure.
“More,” she pleaded.
A clap of thunder reverberated through the house, followed by a flash of lightning. The power flickered then went out. Jacob didn’t seem to notice, and she wouldn’t have cared if a tornado carried them off to Oz.
All that mattered was he didn’t stop.
His hands slid under her bottom and picked her up. “Where’s the bedroom?”
“Down the hall, last room on the left.”
He stood, supporting her with his hands under her bottom. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and as he carried her, he continued to ravish her with his lips, tongue, and mouth.
They somehow made it to the bedroom, though she would’ve let him take her in the hallway. She’d never desired a man as she did him.
He stopped at the side of the massive oak bed, sitting on the edge with her on his lap. She readjusted her legs from around his waist and crouched on her knees, his body inches from hers. Resting her palms flat against his strong shoulders, she pushed until he lay against the scarlet duvet.
The storm had turned the day dark, but the window over the bed let in enough light for her to take in his magnificent body. Her gaze took in his perfect chest and torso, following the enticing trail leading into his gray work slacks. Her eyes widened, taking in the impressive bulge straining to break free.
With shaking hands, she trailed her fingers down his body and stopped at the button of his pants. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating, then ran her palm along his erection.
A gratifying shudder passed through him. “Your touch is a mixture of sweet bliss and torture,”
“Torture?”
She glided down his body, removing his slacks and boxer briefs. Standing, she stared. Stark naked he was even more gorgeous than she’d imagined.
“Yes, torture,” he grated, scooting to the center of the bed. “You look like you want to devour me. Come here.”
She did as commanded but stopped at the edge of the mattress. Placing shaky hands on his ankles, she slid them up his body. His muscles went taut at her touch, and, by the time her hands reached the junction of his thighs, most of her timidity had evaporated. She kneeled between his legs and took his hot, pulsing erection in her hand.
He arched toward her touch, a guttural growl escaping.
In the face of his sensuality and obvious pleasure, her inhibitions fled. She wanted every inch of this beautiful man. With her hand grasping him, she leaned down and took him in her mouth.
His hand buried into her hair and her name rasped from between his lips. His words sounded like both a plea and a prayer.
The way his back arched off the bed and sounds of him rapidly unraveling, and knowing she was the cause, gave her a high she’d never experienced.
“Greta…Greta, you need to stop…have to stop. I’m not ready for this to end.”
His short, choppy breaths told her he was close.
Suddenly, he gripped her under her arms and drew her up his body. When she was flush against him, he rolled over and glided down her, deftly removing her panties. Coming back, he stopped at her waist and bit her hip. She bucked at the unexpected pleasure, and he grasped her bottom, covering her sex with his mouth.
Greta tried to press her knees together. Her ex had disliked the act, and, in turn, she now shied away from its pleasures.
Jacob pushed her legs apart. “Don’t you dare.”
She hesitated, peering at him through her uncertainty and apprehension. Hunger stared back at her. Desire was etched on every hard plane of his face. He wanted this, wanted her. Her insecurities vanished and she relaxed her legs.
He conquered her with his mouth. Within minutes, he had her writhing and whimpering with complete abandonment. Then he did something incredible with his tongue, and all coherent thought escaped as she was engulfed in a wave of pleasure. Her legs tightened around him, but he continued to lave her with his mouth, not stopping until her spasms had subsided.
She relaxed and released the death grip she had on his hair, hoping he wouldn’t rebuke her for the loss of control. He made his way up her body, placing soft kisses along the way, with the last one on his neck. She prayed they weren’t done. His erection pressing against her thigh suggested they weren’t.
Thank God.
Her climax had been pure bliss, yet she wanted more. This new insatiable side was thrilling and scary.
“I don’t have any condoms.”
“What?” Her lust-fueled brain didn’t want to comprehend his devastating words.
“No condoms. Your touch, your mouth, it drove me crazy. I only remembered two seconds ago.”
“Really?” She huffed in consternation. “Aren’t guys required to carry them?”
“Believe me, had I known…”
An old memory jolted her. Months ago, her sister, Cindy, had jokingly given Greta condoms as a breakup gift when she’d left Blake. “I have a couple in my purse, on the kitchen table. Would you—”
Jacob out the door before she finished her sentence, returning in record time, purse in hand. He was a vision of pure male satisfaction as he strode toward her, without a hint of shyness.
Why would he be? He had the body of a Greek god and a wicked countenance to match, one that promised naughty and delightful times.
“You have any idea how good you look lying there rumpled and sexy?” He slid in next to her.
He leaned over, kissing right under her ear. He moved to her jaw, to her mouth and stayed. Kissing and nibbling her into a frenzy, all the while removing the condom from its wrapper.
Once on, to her surprise, he didn’t immediately push inside her. Instead, he rested on his forearms and leaned in to nuzzle her neck.
Did he want her to beg? She would.
“Please, Jacob.” She rocked her hips, needing everything he had to give.
He looked into her eyes. “Are you sure?”
“God, yes,” she breathed. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought his mouth back to her lips.
He entered her slowly; desire stamped on every strained muscle and every shallow breath.
She gasped at the pure ecstasy of it.
He immediately stilled. “Are you okay? Want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare.”
He let out a low, sexy laugh against her neck. “Thank God. It might’ve killed me.”
Driving in deeper, he filled her completely and groaned. He rocked his hips, slow and steady, transporting her to a paradise where only touch and need existed.
She met him thrust for thrust, each one becoming more powerful and urgent than the previous. Rapidly, her body tightened as another powerful orgasm built.
“Greta, you feel incredible,” he grated through his clenched jaw. He looked like a man trying to hold back a violent storm, and barely able to contain it.
Without warning, another orgasm ripped through her body, and she splintered into a million pieces. She bit down on his shoulder, hoping it would hold her together; instead, he groaned her name as his body shuddered with his own release.
Later, rain drummed against the window, tapping on her conscience, reminding Greta she was entwined with a stranger.
She tried to care but couldn’t. Her body was too languid and satiated.
Jacob smiled and kissed her temple before leaving the bed to dispose of the condom. As he shut the bathroom door, Greta’s phone chimed inside her purse. It was her mother’s ring tone.
So much for the afterglow.
No one knows me—not the true me shaped by my sordid past. I cover the scars on my soul as well as I hide the ones on my skin.
