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“I have never felt anything like this before,” he whispered, brushing hair from her face. “You feel incredible.”
She stared deep into his dark eyes. “So do you.”
“I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured, “so many times. While lying in this bed, touching myself.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
He smiled. “It didn’t feel anything close to what it feels like to be with you.”
“I know,” she murmured back, her cheeks burning.
“You do?” He seemed surprised by her admission.
“I’ve dreamed of you, too,” she said, lowering her eyes. Somehow saying that felt too intimate, even after what they had just shared. Admitting that she was thinking of him during cold, lonely nights, touching herself, bringing herself to pleasure, which didn’t even compare to the pleasure she felt just being in his arms, felt… strange. Embarrassing even.
But his gaze gained a devilish spark when he said, “Show me.”
Chapter 19
“S-Show you?” she stammered, her cheeks burning.
“Yes.” His voice was thick with desire. The image of her lying naked in bed, pleasuring herself to thoughts of him, burned in his mind. It had startled him—then thrilled him beyond measure. He wanted to see her, to watch her in the act. He had no words for the hunger it stirred within him.
His cock, not fully softened, still inside her, sprang eagerly back to life. He wanted to know her fantasies—her deepest, darkest desires.
“Show me what you like,” he whispered. “Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself.”
She let out a small sound, her lips parting slightly. He took the opportunity to lean in and kiss her, slipping his tongue into her mouth, tasting her heat.
“Tell me.” He thrust his hips, letting her feel his rising need.
She dropped her gaze. “I think of this. Of you kissing me… touching me.”
“Show me,” he murmured, his voice low and urgent.
Her hand slid into his hair, pulling him closer as her tongue invaded his mouth, claiming him. Then she rolled him onto his back, straddling him, and sat up.
Jacob didn’t know where to rest his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair loose and tousled around her shoulders. Her small breasts, rising and falling with each ragged breath, seemed to beg for his hands, her rosy nipples tight and peaked. The soft plane of her stomach led down to the place where they were joined, framed by a delicate patch of light-brown curls that only hinted at the pleasure beneath.
She solved his dilemma by running the tip of her ring finger across her belly button, then tracing up to the middle of her chest and back down. Her hands skimmed her thighs, then slid upward until they reached her breasts. She cupped them in both hands, thumbs teasing her nipples.
“I imagine you touching me like this,” she whispered, her voice husky.
As she rolled and pinched her nipples, her hips moved against him, her rhythm slow, deliberate.
Her eyes locked on his. Then she brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked on it.
His hips thrust involuntarily, his cock swelling inside her.
“I imagine this is your tongue,” she whispered, bringing her wet thumb to her breast. “While I touch myself here.” She circled her nipple again, pressing, pinching gently. Her head tipped back, a gasp escaping her lips.
One hand slid lower, fingers moving between their bodies, gathering the slickness there. She brought it to her clit and began to stroke it in tight circles, her motions growing more urgent by the second.
Jacob grabbed her thighs, unable to help himself, his fingers tightening around her hot, silky flesh.
Her hips joined the rhythm of her hand, rocking against him. She was gasping now, body writhing, her inner walls clenching around his cock, then releasing, only to tighten again.
Her head was thrown back, one hand still at her breast, her fingers working feverishly between her legs. She came with a loud cry, her whole body tensing, trembling. He could feel every pulsing contraction inside her, teasing his cock, pushing him closer to the edge.
