Читать книгу What Happens In Vegas... - Lauren Dane - Страница 16

Jack thought of me as a piece of ass.

Relief cruised me even as my heart gave a nasty little bump I hated to acknowledge was disappointment. I didn’t want a relationship with any man, but I loved waking up in Jack’s strong arms.

Too much.

It was good that I’d been mistaken about his feeling more for me than friendship. And not just because it meant I could safely give in to my lust and sleep with him tonight. Though, I will admit that was the biggest reason on my mind at the moment. How could it not be when all that beautifully defined sinew and sun-bronzed skin was winking my way?

Jack stretched across to the far side of the tub, muscles rippling in his back as he turned on the jets. Bubbles churned to life within seconds. He pushed a second button that released soap into the water, which foamed the surface and stole my view of everything from his waist down. I almost pouted. He’d concealed some of my most favorite parts.

The scent of the soap hit me then. Something light, floral. Possibly lilac. Not even close to Jack’s style. Had one of his previous lovers given the soap to him?

My belly ached a little with the thought. I mentally eased the sensation aside, aware it had more to do with the idea of some other woman giving him better sex than me than the thought of his actually being with someone else. Maybe he’d had better lovers up to this point, but that was about to change. I knew Jack in a way some random woman paying his body a night or two of homage never could.

I knew about his fetish.

It wasn’t just the sleek, hot body styles and the growling thunder of the engines that fueled his love for classic cars—he had a serious chrome fetish. A fetish that extended to the moldings and fixtures of his Jacuzzi tub. A fetish that was about to grab him by the balls.

Flashing an X-rated smile, I stepped free of my sweatpants and climbed over the side of the tub. Jack’s eyes were dark with carnal anticipation. He expected me to sink into the tub, or plop in, the way he’d so inelegantly done—and knowing I destroyed his grace gave me no small pleasure.

And it was no small pleasure on his face when I bypassed his expectation and lowered myself onto the arm of the tub’s faucet. My pussy lips opened around the glistening shaft. Cold chrome kissed my hot folds, splintering ache deep in my core.

I’d never honed my contortionist skills, so I couldn’t take the shaft inside me, but the drooping of his eyelids and the gradual parting of his lips said it didn’t matter.

Well able to imagine the throbbing of his cock, I closed my eyes, tossed back my head and ground my pussy up and down the length of the shaft. My clit hit hard with each pass. I didn’t bother to hold in my throaty sighs. Jack’s moan punctuated the third one, the hot, husky sound bringing to standing attention every sexual neuron in my body.

My belly warmed, tightened. Heat spread up my torso, making my breasts feel heavy and achy. I blinked open my eyes with the intensely fast-building orgasm.

Jack’s lips were pressed in a firm line, his eyes riveted on my crotch and his right hand working beneath the water. I couldn’t see past the damned bubbles, but I easily imagined his long, strong fingers petting his cock, fingering the plump head, squeezing when he was about to blow it because he wanted to save his orgasm for when he was buried inside me.

My legs shuddered, a cross between fatigue from the way I was squatting over the shaft and thrill to know Jack would soon impale me with his own much bigger, longer, thicker shaft.

“How’s that chrome fetish working for you now, Jack?” I taunted, as I brought a hand to my sex and spread my folds wider, wanting to ensure nothing blocked the show of my pussy exploding with cream.

“Never better.”

He sounded strung out, pushed to the edge and ready to snap. I took mercy on him and increased the pumping of my hips, applying my full weight as I ground the sensitized pearl of my clit hard against the chrome shaft.

Once.

Twice.

My clit throbbed. My pussy spasmed. Pleasure pain erupted deep within my core. I worked the fingers that separated my folds in a quick and carnal up-and-down rhythm. Orgasm raced through me so intensely it threatened to topple me into the water. Jack stopped that from happening.

His hands holding my thighs in place, he bent his head and feasted on the juices seeping from my body. The lash of his tongue up my center and against my clit started a second wave of tremors, even stronger than the first. These ones I couldn’t stop from crying out over.

I screamed my ecstasy. “Jesus, Jack! I love your tongue! Never stop licking me! Never ever stop!”