Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Ah fuck,” Jack murmurs before meeting my eyes. “You good?”
“More than good,” I reply, giving him permission to start moving, and he snaps his hips and pounds into me. I wind my hand around my cock and jerk myself as I watch a bloom of color spread across his neck and down his chest. He’s even more enticing like this than when I first laid eyes on him.
Every thrust feels ultrasensitive, a tremor teasing my nerve endings, waiting to erupt.
Pushing my legs higher, Jack changes his angle, nailing my prostate at the first go. I tremble because the sensation feels like it’s swallowing me whole. I’m already too far gone, and with a final weak jerk of my cock, I spurt ribbons of come across my abdomen.
He bends down, sealing our mouths together and absorbing my moans. Feeling weak, I wrap my arms around his neck to ride out the last of the tremors racking my body. When I collapse to the mattress, I watch as he doubles down and chases his own orgasm. Back bowed, he clenches his teeth as he comes and faintly calls out my name. I’ll admit I enjoy hearing it in the throes of his passion.
When I lower my legs, he sinks against me, burying his face in my neck.
His softened cock slips out, but he doesn’t seem to care, the weight of his body like an anchor.
Placing my lips against the pulse at his neck, I feel it beat wildly like the fluttering of wings. I stay still, steadying my breath, hoping this night isn’t over too soon.
10
JACK
We lie side by side on the bed, trying to get our bearings. Before I can let reality set in and decide it was a bad idea to have him here in my sheets and personal space, he rolls on top of me and kisses me soundly.
I don’t resist because, damn, he’s fucking hot, the way he begs for my cock, and kissing him is not a hardship.
After another minute of my brain turning to mush, he flops to his back. “So now will you take me to your red room of pain?”
I throw an arm over my face. “What the hell is that?”
“You never heard of Fifty Shades?”
“Sure, I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never read it.”
“Who needs to read it when there’s a movie with Jamie Dornan in all his nude glory?”
My chest rumbles with a laugh I can’t restrain. Maybe it’s the happy endorphins after a good orgasm, or maybe, it’s just him, but it feels good.
“So in the movie—and book—Grey has a red room of pain where all the BDSM stuff takes place.”
“Ah, I see.” I open one eye to peek at him. “I’ve never been into giving or receiving pain.”
His fingers brush over the area on his shoulder where my teeth had grabbed hold of him. “Could’ve fooled me.”
My pulse spikes. “Shit, did I hurt you?”
“Did it sound like you hurt me?” He chuckles. “I loved it.”
I relax my limbs and blow out a sigh of relief. “Same. Which is why you requiring me to move my ass out of this bed to show you my studio right now is out of the question.”
“Oooh, are you an after-sex cuddler?”
“I enjoy a good cuddle from time to time.”
He places his head on my chest and throws an arm over my waist, and it feels…good, comforting. Nice to be this close to someone again. The hollow cavity in my chest aches.
Aaron yawns and settles in. “Any more of this, and I’ll fall asleep in your bed.”
I nudge him to sit up. “Guess the darkroom is not such a bad idea.”
“I win,” he teases as if that was his plan all along.
We clean up, dress, and pour more wine before heading out the back door.
It isn’t lost on me that not only did I invite Aaron to my home, but now I’m leading him to my private sanctuary. I should’ve asked him to leave right after we hooked up, but the way he talks about my art stirs something inside me. Makes it feel more important to me than I’ve realized.
And it makes me want to let him in, just a little. Even if it’s a bad idea.
I open the padlocked door and pull the string for the light.
“Totally old-school, but I like the rustic charm.”
“Me too,” he replies as he takes in the concrete floors and planked wood walls that store all my art and equipment. I could’ve remodeled, like I did inside my house, but I wanted to leave most of the original shiplap and only give it a fresh coat of paint. Plus, I’d brought in furniture to make the space more comfortable.
Aaron walks around, taking in my framed and unframed pieces leaning in rows against the walls. “Am I allowed to look through your prints in case I can’t make it to the art fair?”